Of Heirs and Havoc ✔️ | Of Crimes and Crowns Book 2

twenty-six : of infants and instability

Shafts of moonlight fell in slices across the dungeon cell, illuminating a ragged, once-powerful but now bruised, tattered, and disheveled man, as well as his equally miserable surroundings. A bucket served as a chamber pot and stinking of refuse in the corner, rusted chains weighing down his wrists, stained shackles cuffing his ankles, and most importantly the water-stained ceiling which looked, at any minute, to be capable of caving in, but currently was acting as an irritation by delivering a constant drip of brownish water onto the King of Seralia.

"So we meet again, king Robert," Natasha greeted him now, holding her scarlet skirts up to ensure that they did not come near the stained and cracked floor. "What a change from our previous visit. No threats nor insults for me, or my husband, this time?"

He remained silent. Like a kicked mutt, she thought, though dogs had more use and humanity than the hateful wretch she saw before her.

"What do you want, Natasha Blackmore? To gloat?" His chains rattled as he brushed back a lock of lank hair, which was usually held in place by a heavy crown. "You've done quite enough of that."

"I will decide what I have done enough of, though I thank you for entertaining me with your statement. It is quite laughable that you consider even a prisoner such as yourself capable of giving advice to a queen." Natasha dropped her skirts, not wanting to seem overtly concerned with her appearance rather than the true matter at hand. "Perhaps I will decide that what I have not done enough of is interrogation, via the rack."

She savoured the terror on his face. Pride did go before a fall, and Tasha was certainly glad to see that his had certainly led to a drop in station, respect, and reputation.

"What is there to interrogate me about? I am sure your traitorous sister has already divulged the details of our bargain."

"My sister is no longer Arlean. Her acts are not treasonous, and as for that bargain..." Her heels clicked as she stepped closer to the cell. "It is hardly a bargain at all if you used her own child against her."

"What can I say?" The man shrugged, as though he were holding court and discussing a particularly brilliant chess move he had made. "A mother can almost always be trusted to save her child. I simply used that characteristic to my advantage."

"You enjoy threatening others, do you not?" She stepped closer yet, revealing the dagger that glinted at a sash around her waist. "How Would it feel for you to be on the receiving end of a threat to yourself? To your reign?"

"Have you not already carried out these threats? Surely I can sink no lower." The king sounded bored. She endeavoured to change that, even if it was only a facade created to avoid showing weakness.

"Really? I believe that rats such as yourself can always sink lower." Natasha removed the dagger, toying with it, watching the rubies in its hilt shine blood red in the flickering torchlight. They seemed to glow, as if alive. "I will make you a bargain, involving your children. Promise Dominica's daughter, Margaret Romero, the crown. Make her queen beside her husband, your son the future king."

"A bargain benefits both parties, does it not? Please, my queen, explain to my dim witted, rodent's mind, as you call it, how this deal would provide an advantage to myself."

"I will allow your son to live. I have assassins placed to kill him on my word—and my word is law. Make the decision, King Robert."