The Usurper's Queen | COMPLETED

07 | his story

I then wondered, how old was Edmund at that time, and did he witness it with his own two eyes? For such a young child witnessing his own father's death, especially in such manner, would he not become scarred for life?

        "What about Edmund, Father?" I asked. My father wiped his tears away and continued, "The duke was barely four at the time, and he was with his mother, so I doubt he saw it happening. But his sister, Anna-Claudia was with Prince Edgar when the chandelier fell. Her face was horribly scarred, and the King used that reason to justify marrying her to a minor nobleman."

        "Edmund must really abhor the royal family then," I spoke. "Framing his father, exiling his mother, and sending away his sister. There is no reason for him to like them."

        "The Duke is a grown man now. The King allowing him to grow up is like signing his own death warrant. Him proposing to you is only the first step. He knows that we are rich, that we are powerful, and he knows the kinship between his father and I. He is smart, and I know he will be good to you."

       "I hope so, Father," I laughed lightheartedly, but my father did not follow suit.

      "He has to, Anne. Now, his fate rests in our family's hands. If he mistreats you, I will ensure that he will not live another day, let alone ascend the throne."

As time passed, I went on with my days as usual, but with a sense of secureness in my heart. I no longer had to worry about becoming an old maid, nor a wronged wife, as I had my family to back me up.

     Edmund had sent me a long cape trimmed with ermine fur, as winter was steadily approaching, and not long after, Lisbeth's betrothed sent her a cape too, but it was trimmed with common hare fur.
Then, I heard Lisbeth complaining to Mother, followed by the sounds of something being ripped. When I walked into the room, I saw the cape lying on the floor, in shreds.

Days went by, and Lisbeth became even more hostile towards me. Gilbert remained the annoying younger brother that he was, but Lisbeth was like a stranger to me. When I turned up to dinner wearing one of the dresses that Edmund sent, she just pushed her plate away, stood up and left.

          "Anne, don't be too hard on your sister," Mother had said, and I could only stare at her in disbelief.

          "When was I being hard on her?" I questioned, almost laughing at the absurdity of the situation.

         "She feels belittled when you go around wearing dresses that the Duke sent over, especially since your dresses are better than what she has. You will be a royal duchess one day, while your sister will only become a countess. There is no need to constantly remind her that she is below you, Anne," Mother explained while rolling her eyes, as if unable to believe what I just said.

         "Oh, the audacity of me wearing the dresses my betrothed sent over! Should I lock them away in the attic to rot, because wearing them will hurt wee Lisbeth's feelings?" I scoffed angrily.

Mother slammed her hands onto the table, and glared at me with those cold grey eyes of hers. "She is your sister Anne!"

           "And she revealed the poisoning to Edmund, with the intent to implicate me!" I retorted hotly.

           "Enough of this nonsense!" Father bellowed, and Mother, who had already opened her mouth to scream at me, immediately quieted down.

          "Belle dearest, I hope you realize that Anne and Gilbert are also your children, not just darling Lisbeth. And since you have the time to reprimand Anne, I believe you also have the time to remind Lisbeth of where she stands," Father said in a lukewarm tone, and Mother could only nod silently.

For so long he had given her free rein of the household, and she was allowed to do as she pleased, and Father had not once scolded her. Hence, his chilling words must have cut in deep.

         "And Anne, you must learn to control your words. Running your mouth freely in the palace is a very dangerous thing to do," Father said to me, and I too quietly nodded my head.
Dinner was silent, and I had placed my focus on eating and retreating back to my room as fast as I could.

         "The King has proposed to Jane Ainsworth," Father suddenly said. I gasped in shock and looked at him in disbelief.

         "It's barely been a year, Father! How can he remarry so soon?" I asked, sputtering on my watered-down wine.

         "Who's Jane Ainsworth?" Gilbert asked at the same time, his mouth full of roast chicken.

         "He is the King," Father sighed, ignoring my brother. "He can marry whoever he wants, whenever he wants. Especially since this Jane Ainsworth is the spitting image of his dead Queen, but much younger and can bear more heirs."

          "Then what about me, Father? What of my betrothal to Edmund?" I asked urgently. The Ainsworths were no doubt cunning, having yet another of their daughter to marry into the royal family as soon as the mourning year for the eldest daughter's death ended.
     Like the Ainsworths, I too craved for power, and I feared that this new union would become an obstacle for me.

The Ainsworths had tried to forge an alliance by arranging a betrothal between Lady Grace and Benedict, but that ended horribly. However, I could not rule out the possibility that they would try to match one of the two princesses with Edmund, or any rich, powerful eligible bachelors.

     I then glanced at my brother, heir to my father's earldom and titles, whose wealth and richness likely exceeded even the royal family, and he looked back at me while his mouth was stuffed with a whole chicken leg.

     "What?" he said, his voice muffled and his cheeks bulged like a hamster.

    "Don't talk with your mouth full," I retorted, and at that moment, I doubted that the Ainsworths would target that simple brother of mine.

I turned around and saw Gilbert wiping his greasy lips on a napkin and proceeded to add three more chicken legs to his plate.

        "You should eat more, Bertie," I smiled while scooping a generous serving of pottage into a bowl and placed it next to him. Gilbert looked at me curiously for a short moment, before picking up a spoon and gulping down the bowl's contents in mere seconds.

      "How kind of you, Annie," he said between mouthfuls, while Father shook his head in amusement.

     "Why are you eating so much, Gilbert? Usually, you are not like this?" he asked.

     "I need to eat to become stronger, Father. Annie's big ol' duke had defeated me in that jousting tournament once, and I'm not going to let it happen again," Gilbert huffed and glared at me playfully.

     "If I knew that you were going to be this bitter, I would've told him to go easy on you," I chuckled.

     "Well, he did say that he wanted to win for you, Annie. I heard him saying it. And he did win in the end," Gilbert sighed. "So, I've come to the conclusion that I also want someone I can fight for."

       "Cut to the chase, Gilbert," Father chuckled. "What are you trying to say?"
Gilbert's face became red, and he cleared his throat slightly.

     "What I'm saying is that. . . I think I also want to marry someone, Father.
It's unfair how Lisbeth and Annie are both betrothed, while I'm still alone."

I looked at his blushing face and foolish smile with shock, not at all expecting my twin brother to have such thoughts.

        "And who is this lady your thinking of marrying?" I heard Mother ask, and his became even redder.

         "There is this one girl, Princess Margaret. She's so sweet and lovely, Mother. Her eyes are so blue and dazzling, and God, her hair-" Gilbert went on and on praising the princess, but I was shaking to my core.

     How could he fall for the person whose family I had destroyed, the sister of the baby I killed, and the daughter of the woman I drove to suicide ?

       Princess Margaret is the daughter of the queen that my family demonized, the princess whose father was both a murderer and an usurper, one that we longed to overthrow, but there my brother was, pining for her.