Long Live the ..........? [ONC 2024]

Chapter Seven: Going Draco

two nights later.......

Roz stepped out into the moonlight from the conservatory and felt the cool night breeze about her. The full moon illuminated the marble stone of all the fountains and railings in the Royal Gardens, giving them a shimmering glow. Dressed only in her nightgown, bedrobe and fluffy slippers, her long hair in a night braid. Roz took one last look behind her into the darkness of the palace's interior. Nothing stirred. Feeling relieved that no one had discovered her, Roz continued down the steps into the gardens. She had not gone Draco since her father's funeral and the desire to free herself from her two-legged body was all too strong. Tonight, she would unfurl her wings and take to the skies in ecstasy. But first, she needed to find a place to hide her night clothes.

Despite the public knowledge of Roz's ability to transform into a dragon, her father limited encouragement to special occasions. Such as a visit from a foreign ruler or dignitary he was trying to impress or intimidate, often both. Having a daughter who could turn into a scary monster was certainly of benefit to him. But as Roz grew older, transforming on command or just to please her father began to lose its charm.

And so she had taken to sneaking out at night to go Draco on her own terms and it felt liberating. From the air, she could look down over the whole of Mete, the capital city of Metica. Which was situated on top of a hill and so commanded excellent views even from the ground.

The Maze was her usual haunt for changing. It was a place where she could disrobe and transform untroubled. The grand fountain bubbled quietly as she passed it on her way to the maze's entrance. Two iron gates guarded the way, but no one ever locked them. The metal clanged as Roz slipped through. There was barely any light along the sandy paths that wove their way around the high hedges. But she knew the route to the centre like the back of her hand.

As Roz approached her destination, she was taken aback by the sound of voices. Someone was already there. "Did you hear that?" a familiar voice whispered.

"It is merely the wind, uncle. No one comes here at this time."

Elspeth, what was she doing here? As Dowager Queen, she now resided in the house of Matrons with the King's former mistresses and Roz's half-sisters. She had no business on palace grounds without her permission. The same could be said for her uncle, the Archbishop. Roz was fuming, but maintained her composure and listened on.

"So how long am I going to be stuck in that drafty mansion? There is barely enough room for us all."

"You must be patient, Elspeth, my dear. The Holy Mallard works in mysterious ways. You must have...."

"Will you cut the crap, uncle? You don't believe in any of that nonsense and neither do I. That cushy job is down to me and don't you forget it! If it were not for me putting a word in to the order and a substantial donation to their funds. You would still be treading the boards in the Mete Playhouse. Now, are we on track for the plan?"

"Your former stepdaughter is still prepared to go through with her father's wishes and I will, of course, press for the suit that will best suit our purposes."

"But I do not wish for her to fulfil her father's wishes. I want her to fail so that the council will have to put Saffron on the throne. She will be much easier to control than Rosamund, and less dangerous too. Once we put Saffron on the throne, it will be easy to convince her to abdicate and dissolve the monarchy. After securing the election victory, I will return to the palace as Metica's first president.

"But Queen Rosamund will still be on the privy council as it states in your late husband's will."

"I want her gone! Being convicted of treason would be the most useful way of getting rid of her. But a terrible accident would be quicker."

The Archbishop chuckled. "Proper little dragon slayer, aren't you? Who needs a knight when we have a Dowager Queen to do the job!"

Roz shook and her breathing grew fast and shallow as she took in all she heard. Her stepmother was planning to bump her off, then overthrow the monarchy and rule Metica in her own right. The urge to transform was now overwhelming. She had every right to torch them both for their treachery. But she managed to compose herself and listen further.

"Speaking of knights, I think Sir Hugh would best suit our purposes. An old man's death is easier to cover up. Perhaps we could even frame Rosamund. Kill two birds with one stone." They were both chuckling now. An icy laughter that gave Roz chills.

"I should take my leave, Elspeth. I have one of those dreadful late-night devotions to officiate."

"May the Mother Hen wrap you in her downy.... "

"Oh shut up, Elspeth!"

Roz realised she needed to hide. The last thing she needed was to be discovered by the murderous pair. An alcove provided her with excellent cover and she managed to crouch behind a vase on a plinth. Just in time to see the cloaked figure of the Archbishop waddling along the pathway. Roz remained exactly where she was, expecting her ex-stepmother to follow suit. But she did not. Then she heard Elspeth's voice again.

"Marchpane, calling, Half Baked. Come in Half Baked!"

There was a strange sound, like a very tinny voice, but Roz was not close enough to hear what was being said.

"Half Baked, Good. I have been speaking with the Holy Duck, and he is all go for the plan. Repeat, all go for the plan."

Another inaudible reply.

"She wants what? Well, carry out her orders for now. But the Privy Council will never agree to it. Marchpane out!"

Shortly afterwards, Roz watched as Elspeth, covered in a dark cloak, passed her hiding place. She stopped for a moment and looked about her. Roz held her breath, not wishing to betray herself. Elspeth then took out a little ball on a chain, shook her head and returned it to the folds of her cloak. Before passing by into the night. A few minutes later, Roz heard the metallic clang of the gates. Breathing a sigh of relief, she made her way to the centre of the maze and collapsed on one of the marble benches.

She had always known that Elspeth disliked her. The feeling had been mutual. But to go as far as plotting her death and overthrowing the monarchy. That was something else. And who was the mysterious person Elspeth was talking to? A courtier, a servant? Was there no one she could trust? The walk back to the palace was a sombre one. The urge to transform had passed and the half yellow, half beige palace looked more and more like a prison than a home. For the first time in Roz's life, she had a desire to leave the compound.

But how would she do that without arousing suspicion? And how could she keep Saffron safe while she was away? Roz needed help. And there was only one person that came to mind. but when she reached the palace steps and tried to open the conservatory door, she discovered to her horror that it was locked.  

(W/c 1251)