The First Queen (Currently Being Updated)

Chapter 29: Part 1

Hi all! Before I let you read the first part of Chapter 29, I just want to remind you all that this first part is told in the third person point of view, and the second, which I'm working on at the moment, will be from Eleanor's POV as she recovers. Chapter 30 will follow after and then that should be a wrap for the first book. 

Also, I fixed the language in Chapter 2 (I used the f-word and "whatever", so that's all deleted because apparently y'all don't think Eleanor should be using that kind of language, and I think that stirred some readers away, so it's gone.).

I will warn you though, this is LONG, like really long! So, without further ado, enjoy Chapter 29: Part 1!

It was quiet.

It was dreary.

It was sorrowful.

That is what someone would say if they were to describe Alendar right now.

Five days ago, the queen had fallen. Today is the fifth day, and her majesty gives no sign of rising.

Just as the sun began to peak over the horizon, the people of Alendar were off to work in Carpo. Merchants were setting up shop and checking their goods as the sound of hooves meeting the cobblestone road caused them to turn their attention to the road. There rode the Torvan king, kicking into the sides of his steed that was already galloping at full speed. The merchants, the buyers, and the children playing in the streets would have turned away, but shock overwhelmed them when they saw who Francis had sitting in front of him. Queen Eleanor was unconscious, her fair skin that would slightly tan in the summer was deathly pale. Behind the two royals rode a company of four soldiers, two belonging to either monarch. Gasps and mutters filled the air:

"Is she dead?"

"My God!"

"It's just like what happened to her father!"

"What happened?"

The voiced concerns of Eleanor's people were tuned out by Francis. All he wanted to do was make sure that by the time they reached the palace, Eleanor was still alive. The fiery queen was one of many that his father had selected for him to think about marrying. That is, when she was just a spare princess. Then she became a queen, and word spread to Torva of the ruler. He heard the murmurs in his court of how she was just and fair, looking out for the good of her people before thinking of herself. She had grown on him. She was different from the women he had taken to bed or simply flirted with; Eleanor sparked a fire in him. She pushed him and infuriated him. But that made him want her even more. Yet, she would not let the drawbridges down to her heart so easily. When he kissed her in the throne room, Francis believed he had a chance. Maybe he was thinking too soon, but he wouldn't mind having Eleanor by his side. But he knew that she was no princess or duchess; she was a queen in her own right ruling over a kingdom that has only seen queen consorts alongside kings, never a lone queen.

Hours ago, Francis lost his sanity as he saw Eleanor enter the stateroom to face her brother. No, he lost it when General McCormick had to hold him back, Eleanor's orders. A part of him was impressed by the loyalty Eleanor wielded from her servicemen, but he still fought against the older man. Francis could hear Eleanor fighting. Minutes felt like years. Francis felt useless. Eleanor called him to be her ally, he didn't cross an ocean just to be held back! His anger soon washed away when he heard a weak voice from the other side call out for the general. The two men looked at each other before busting the door open. There before them were the two siblings. One the former heir and one the former spare. Both were lying in pools of their own blood. Francis could only focus on Eleanor, not the man who laid on her left with her sword still in his body. He did not think twice when McCormick told him to take care of Eleanor. The young queen did not leave his arms until they reached the palace.