The King's Collie

Part V, Chapter 16: Dear Valentia

DEAR VALENTIA,

I have upon this writing decided to solemnly exit my throne, with means that will afterwards become clear. Mourn. Take your time. Do whatever you might do except fear for me. I shall rest where Our Lord sees fit.

I had recently gotten around to listening to our Cardinal. I took what he said, and did what he suggested. Some of you might still think this is a good thing, but if you're like most people, you know to think for yourself, and heed wisdom when only you deem it fit. I was unlucky enough to have forgotten this, especially when given the motive of bringing justice to my dearest wife, Ophelia, and to our nation. I was convinced me that she died in the hands of the God I angered.

What sin, then, might have warranted the Queen's death? I believed it to be this much: I knew a man, after having been starstruck by him and him alone, ever since the Queen, my merciful wife, had ever allowed him to set foot on the castle grounds, but especially since he took his title as knight and his role as the most invaluably treasured of my court. Yea, I knew him closer than I ever could her.

I endlessly and enormously regret the slaughter I was persuaded unto, in the vain effort to avenge her. I paid the price for a personal crusade against what I was led to believe was sin, but what ended up only being love for me.

I cannot rule as I now am, my mind now lame with guilt. I am castle-ridden. Not even my own company delights in my presence. I make my appeal to a new domain.

Rest me next to dearest Ophelia, Take a few things and keep them with my body: Cameron's works, and any manuscripts left; a smaller lute of his; the sword I hold; and every earring, necklace, or piece of jewelry presently in his room, most importantly his ring to match my own, which Ophelia gave to him as her own dying wish.

Lætitia. I spoke to you last and address you first. I will miss you dearly, and do wish I had given other last words to you in person, as you were. I took my leave.

Marco. Your rather deserved last words to me do bring a smile to my face now, however harsh you might have meant them to be. Long may you bring your melody to the court Valentia.

Nadia, Your Majesty, my friend. I am sorry that I couldn't fulfill my promise to be your ally for as long as I anticipated. I stress my successor to continue it. He will help you as you need, and there is no need to hesitate to do the same for him if the need arises.

Rhys. I'm sorry for so loathsome a last convening with you. I applaud your skill, and invite you to the castle, if my successor wills it, and to also take anything you might need from our supplies when it comes to your profession.

Dr. Scarpezo of Alemania. I am forever grateful for your service to my wife in her last moments, and I truly must recommend you as physician to the next royal family.

Your Holiness. [sic]

Byssus. May you take this to no fault of your own. I convened with the Pope on some matters. I hope you find it well.

My nephew, Prince of Aragonia, Michel.
I remember that since your younger sister Anna came along those distant years ago now, you were saddened that you would not become King like your father Argenti, and that she would instead earn the throne. You met that collie for yourself. Destinies aren't always set in stone; they can change at the whim of the world. He was surely so much more than a lowly collie to me. In the effort to make up for the fact that I have so seldom visited or even written to you, and been so poor of an uncle, now troubling you with development after hopeless development, I now make today your day of such destiny. In the absence of a child to make my heir, I declare you King of Valentia. Treat the throne well. I wouldn't give it to anybody else, and you know this. A noble young prince such as yourself should, indeed, become king, as you now will.

Lastly, spare my heart, for it was full of love.