Not My Fairytale

Chapter 8

A Moment of Hope

I rode the high from the successful speech– and potential clue– all the way back to the castle. I was in such a good mood, in fact, that I decided I was ready to do what I had been avoiding for days.

After a quick stop in my rooms, I began scouring the castle.

That was, of course, where my good mood died. With each empty room I tried, I felt my feet stomp just a little louder in the heels I had chosen not to discard in my rooms. It was a decision I was beginning to regret.

Just as I started to give up, a smell from the kitchen down the hall hit my nose. If I were not in the open for any passer-by to see, I might have smacked myself on the head for not thinking of it earlier.

At first, my mother didn't notice me as I slipped into the cavernous kitchen, too wrapped up in cracking eggs into the large mixing bowl before her. To her credit, she didn't jump when she did notice me, and if I were human, I might not have caught the sharp intake of breath before she let out a breathy laugh, "You haven't been there long, have you?"

"Hours." I teased, pretending I couldn't feel the tension building around us. I crossed to the sink and began washing my hands.

"Your father and I watched your speech."

I caught myself chewing on my lip, and removed it from between my teeth before asking tentatively, "I hope I didn't cross any lines?" I should have asked for permission before sharing her family's darkest moment live in front of the entire kingdom, and suddenly I was filled with dread, worried that she would be angry with me.

She didn't look up as I sidled up to the counter beside her, too busy measuring out the sugar in her hand. "Of course not," I peered inside the bowl as she spoke, trying to determine what sweet she was preparing. "It was moving. It was powerful. It was honest. It was definitely better than what was prepared for you. Your father agrees, though I'd recommend warning him next time you plan to go off script."

I pursed my lips as I searched the cabinets for the rest of the ingredients she would need. I couldn't think of anything to say– a sadly, not so rare occurence these days– but with each passing minute, the tension in the room grew more and more suffocating.

When I returned with a handful of items, she sighed. "Giules," She began.

Before she could finish what sounded like the beginnings of an apology, of all things, I cut her off, crossing the room quickly and pulling the gift from the bag I had discarded on a chair by the door. "I got you something."

She wiped her hands on her apron before carefully taking the gift from my hands. I turned to the counter and began measuring out ingredients, if only to give myself something to do with my hands. I felt awkward. It was an emotion I was not familiar with, and quickly decided I never wanted to feel again. "It's a sort of congratulations gift."

As she began removing it from the silver wrapping paper, I couldn't keep more words from bubbling up my throat, "I know it has nothing to do with, uh – babies, or anything– but I thought it was pretty." I was rambling. I had never been a rambler before. I was raised to be calm and collected no matter the situation. But, I had also been raised to rule the country, and if that could change so quickly, perhaps the rest of it could change just as easily.

I kept my eyes leveled on the ingredients in front of me, feeling the full force of my devastation fill me as it had on the day I first found out about my mother's pregnancy. Suddenly, she was tugging me into her arms. I hesitated only a moment, before returning the embrace, wrapping my arms tightly around her small waist, wondering how much longer I would be able to do so without a baby bump in the way.

She didn't release me for some time, squeezing like she was scared of losing me. Finally, she spoke. "I know this must be a very confusing time for you."

That was an understatement, but I didn't say that. I didn't say anything. She pulled back just enough to grab my cheeks and force me to look into her grey eyes. "I've been working on a way to help you."

I blinked. "What?"

She grinned at my surprise, still holding my cheeks in her grasp. "I said I'm going to help you."

"But, how?"

"The law states that if the child I'm carrying is male, then he will hold a higher claim to the throne than you do. That hardly seems fair, does it?" I knew from the way the corners of her lips were still tilted upward that she was drawing this out on purpose. My mother was sweet as could be, but even she still had a mischievous side when she felt like it. This news must have been big if she was trying so hard to build suspense.

"No, it doesn't." I agreed, playing along.

"You would agree, then, that it's about time we change that?"

I pulled my face from her grasp, turning my attention back to the cookies she was baking, if only to hide my expression from her– to hide the hope I knew I shouldn't be feeling. Changing the law was no easy task, even for the queen herself. "That sounds easier said than done."

She joined me as I began throwing in the rest of the ingredients, responding only after turning the mixer on. "It's not so complicated. Your father and I have changed laws before." I kept my gaze locked on the mixer, watching all of the ingredients we had gathered as they blended together into one gooey mass, waiting. She continued, "You just need the majority of your fathers council to vote in your favor."

There it was. The impossible task. My father's council consisted of a dozen of the most powerful, influential men in the entire kingdom. They were not known for being particularly welcoming of change, and I doubted this would be any different, especially with the future of the kingdom hanging in the balance. They would probably vote against me, just for the fact that I'm a woman. I didn't say any of this to my mother, however. "What does father think of this idea?"

She turned off the mixer and began scooping little balls of the dough onto a baking sheet. "He's in a meeting as we speak, he called it right after your speech ended. He's trying to set a date for the vote while all of the members are present."

My eyebrows shot up. This was all moving very quickly. "What date?"

"We were hoping for some time in the week before summer solstice." She replied as I helped her scoop cookie dough. "But, we didn't want to set an exact date, the council would only find a reason to change it to one of their choosing, anyway."

That brought a small smile to my lips. At least she was aware of just what kind of men she was hanging my future on. The thought brought out just the faintest sliver of hope in me, though I tried to squash it back down.

"Of course, you will need to begin attending council meetings yourself if you plan on winning over any of those old grumps." She continued, oblivious to the spark of hope she had ignited in my chest. "Though, in hindsight, we probably should have begun making you attend those years ago. Francesco as well. As future alpha and beta, you will both need to get comfortable working closely with the council."

I smiled to myself, momentarily forgetting all other problems I faced. I had a chance to save my future. "Do you really think I can convince them?"

She gave me a warm smile, "If anyone can, it would be you."

She was my mother and, she had to say that. But, maybe, just maybe, I could actually swing this. "When do I start?"

~*~*~

What do you think of this law?

Do you think Giules will be able to get the votes?

More Angelo next chapter!