The Broken Crown

Chapter 43

 “You swear what?” Raphael spat back. “You can’t say she has not changed you. You can’t say you’re still the same.”

 Raymond was remotely aware of the fact that everyone around them has stopped to stare at the scene unfolding. He ignored it, though, focusing all his anger on his brother. “For the better, yes.” With a hard push, he let go of his brother. “Or maybe you and your mother just wanted me to be unhappy? Maybe you wanted me to stay in that drunken stupor so that I could not confirm what everybody is thinking.”

 “And what might that be?”

 Raymond backed away from his brother, walking in a large circle. If he were to do this… were he to do this? “You know what,” he said, finally.

 Raphael’s eyes narrowed. “You have nothing.”

 “Is our mother’s absolute lust for power nothing?” he shouted, unable to contain it. “Is it nothing that she time and time again sabotaged the work of the King’s Council, manipulated her way into the inner circles, for her own power. Is it a lie that she has spent her hours listening to dubious spies?”

 “You know why,” Raphael whispered spitefully. “You know she is investigating her husband, our King’s death.”

 “Is she?”

 And then it came to him – all the meetings she had attended, all the sneaking away, all the religion. It was her who had seen to her husband’s finances, Thomas had said so himself. Had it not been for Lucretia, the finances would have been much worse.

 Or had they?

 Then he remembered her fighting against the idea of Adrianne going on tour. At first, he had thought she had wanted to stay the Queen in the eyes of the people, but had there been more? What could have been her reasons? What could have been her reasons, if not an actual wish that the people were not distracted. That they were, indeed, to become endangered even further?

 Lucretia wanted power, that had been obvious for as long as she had lived, but for how long had she planned it, and for how long would she continue her fight?

 “You know what?” His eyes met with his brother’s in a challenge; a wish that his brother would see reason. “I don’t think she needs to investigate.”

 “Raymond…” His brother trailed off, and it was a clear warning.

 “Would it be a lie to say that our mother controlled King Clement’s finances. Would it be a lie to claim that she could have stopped his extensive use of money – if she wanted to!” Raymond turned around then, looking around him. “What if she did not want to? What if this is what she wanted?”

 “What are you saying?”

 “Councilman Thomas Bonney, the Head of the Royal Bank himself claims that Lucretia, the Queen Dowager had a large impact on her husband’s spending. What if she did not mind? What if she wanted this war?”

 Someone grabbed his arm and yanked him around. Raphael’s breath was hot on his face as he shouted, “Have you gone mad?”

 Raymond stumbled backwards from his brother, suddenly shaken. “Don’t say it’s not possible,” he dared. “They always said it was a woman or someone close to him. Who is to say it were not both?”

 Raphael took three stern steps and grabbed his brother by the arm, pulling him away from the eyes of the crowd. “This is unacceptable,” he hissed.

 In that moment, Raymond wished he could have felt bad. He wished he were ashamed of casting his mother into bad light, but it felt like the best thing he had ever done. Saying those words, after so many years of saying nothing, felt so freeing. His chest seemed light enough to lift him off the ground.