Honor the Throne (EXCERPT ONLY)

Prologue

Dorish Court 1529

The skirts of various colors and cloths twirled with the precision that the ancient Euro-Asian dance called for. The musicians worked their instruments wearing bright smiles reflecting their hearts filled with joy. The court of the small yet prosperous kingdom was alive with cheer. For the first time in ten months, the young king, Maxwell Beckham, had called for a grand dinner. A dinner which was being held in the great hall with gold furnishings and decorations.

Finally, the ruler's period of mourning had passed. The man in his prime once again acted as such. Even with the joyous air surrounding them, every person remembered the reason such a great time of mourning had been forced upon them. The queen was gone, Susan of Cleaves, a fair skinned beauty with hair nearly as pale as snow. She was a delicate flower with a voice soft as a baby's mew. Her eyes mirrored the sea. The late queen's thin pink lips were always drawn into a smile never giving way to the hardships she had faced in life.

Queen Susan was young when she was sent from her German principality to marry the boy King. She was a youthful princess. Her and the king were both the mere age of ten. It was five years later when their marriage was consummated. Within the first year after consummation, the royals had a prince. He was named Edvard. Within four years the couple was childless once more. King Maxwell never stopped caring for Susan. He cherished her and comforted her after each failed childbearing. Until the winter of 1525 when he turned his eyes to Mistress Jane Carlton. She was the youngest daughter of a knight. Mistress Jane was everything the queen was not. She was a mere sixteen years in age, three years the king's junior, with hair dark as honey and shining like the sun. Her eyes were golden. Her lips were always a tempting pink. The king made her his mistress. For three years he courted her. Eventually she bore his child. The queen bore his child once more as well. The kingdom was alive with expectation. All anxiously waited to see which child would be born first.

It was the queen who went to the labor chamber first. It was a month before Easter. Susan was shut away for many days before her nurse announced that she was delivering. Within an hour the court cheered for the birth of their living prince. He was to be the heir to the Dorish throne. Celebrations were held each day of the week, until it became known that the queen was not recovering from childbirth. Susan of Cleaves never left the labor chamber. She passed away in her sleep during the fourth night. As if fate had demanded it, the prince fell ill the night of her death and soon he joined his mother.

Jane's turn to deliver came shortly after the queen's. Most would say that she suffered a worse fate. After many hours of trying to birth her child, the frightened girl was forced to endure the pain of the physician slicing into her belly and pulling her still daughter from the womb. Every person in the chamber was focused so heavily on not allowing another of the king's children to pass that they allowed Jane to bleed away frightened and alone. The king was heartbroken. No man had known such great loss in such a short time. He secluded himself from his subjects. Having lost both his wife, the woman he loved, and his children brought despair into his happy life.

That darkness was ten months prior. The time of seclusion was no more. Now the young King Maxwell, still full of life with twenty-four years of age, sat on his hand crafted Italian throne with a wide grin and bright eyes despite them being dark as the night sky. His short muddy curls hung with happiness. His prominent cheeks cratered from his large smile. He was no longer the boy who lost it all. He was now the man who had much to gain.

"He seems almost himself." The aging Duke of Leighton spoke to the cardinal. "Actually, he seems better than himself." Both men were dressed to show their position. The duke wore hose that were black and a shiny grey color in tilted thick lines, a dark grey jerkin, and doublet with small white beads sewn into it with sleeves of the same design as his hose, and a black over gown. Dark jewels in silver hung on his shoulders and his large and aged hands were adorned in many rings. The cardinal was dressed in the standard red robe and cap of the clergy, but he wore many jewels as well.

"Yes, I dare say Max is happy once more." Cardinal Clifton agreed with a subtle nod of his grey head. "Perhaps he will entertain proposals for a second wife soon. He is still young. He is more than capable of producing heirs." The cardinal commentated. "There is a princess in Italy whom recently gained her twelfth year. Her name is Ava di Vanco. I believe she would make a beautiful wife for our king."

"I am not sure His Majesty ever plans to marry again. He endured great sorrow a single year before sire." The duke, Charles Remington, disagreed.

Cardinal Clifton frowned as his bushy eyebrows merged together on his wide forehead. His frail and unpleasantly cold hands clasped over his protruded belly. "Hm, perhaps you are correct. Max needs to be reminded of what it is like to share his bed with a woman before he will open himself up to marriage."

The duke agreed wholeheartedly. "Yes, we should gradually move him towards a new marriage. He needs an heir or else this fragile kingdom will fall to ruins from a civil war and the English will swoop in to claim the land once more."

"Our forefathers shed their blood and were victorious in taking our independence from the English tyranny. We would shame them if we were to fall into their rule once more." Cardinal Clifton fussed. "However, as a man of the clergy, I can only stress the importance of having His Majesty take another wife. God will allow it since he so tragically lost his first."

Charles placed a steadying hand on the holy man's shoulder. "Do not worry yourself about the king and any new vows he shall make. I will make it my personal crusade. In a year's time, there will be a new Queen of Doraland." He vowed in a sure voice.

The cardinal nodded his consent. "I have no doubt that you will succeed, but how will you?" He questioned.

"I have my ways." The duke spoke vaguely. His light eyes drifted across the hall where his only living daughter, still young in age, danced with his eldest son. She was a beauty taking after her mother with fair skin, a petite structure, blunt features, and hair as bright as fire. She could draw a man in with her innocent pearl eyes and hold him with her talon like fingers. She was the light of Charles's world, especially since his wife passed. Charles had promised his late wife that he would secure a great future for their Chelsea. There was no greater future than being queen.

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A/N: This complete story (fully edited and slightly rewritten) will be available for $0.99 on Amazon Kindle beginning November 27, 2018!