Out Of The Ashes Ch 21

Chapter 21: An oath to the future

(7,3k words, futa, dialogue, plot chapter, drama, political intrigue, wholesomeness, tension, size comparison, mini-gts)

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Margaret's fingers trickled nervously over her stomach as dread and fear silently consumed her. Her blue eyes wandered around the marble pillars leading to the upper ranks which were left vacant - like the rest of her throne room. She hoped these halls would be filled with odes to cheers and joy, filled with both her prospering people as they mended their wounds together. Instead, she might have to fill them with death just to hold on to the crown that didn't rest on her head yet but already would turn her into a hypocrite -- with blood on her hands.

Margaret looked down at her belly, dressed in the finest of all fabrics but never did she feel filthier. For she could expose her daughter to another murder before she was even born. Her fingers dug in deeper into her soft stomach as she wondered if her daughter could already make sense of the world around her. What a rotten place that must be to her and what she might think of her mother who would face this much death. Would she want to be born in this world? Margaret dreaded this answer more than the arrival of the archduchess.

"Do not be disheartened, sister. Everything will be alright," Sybilla said in her seat next to the throne.

Margaret smiled but couldn't muster any words of encouragement, and failed to move her hands away from her watchful daughter and grab the sceptre that rested on her armrest.

"Have faith Margaret," Euridike said to her right from the throne she called her own for decades. "Ana will not fail. She never does."

"I am the living proof that this is not the case," Margaret returned calmly.

Euridike leaned forward and took her daughter's hand with her own motherly grasp.

"Not when is taking fate into her own hands. She will not fail you," Euridike said with inspiring certainty.

It was impossible to not feel uplifted by such unwavering trust and sincerity from a woman that despised war and destruction as much she did, but the doubts remained.

The king sighed and took hold of the ebony grip of her royal sceptre as footsteps echoed from the third and highest row of ranks towering above the hall. One single figure emerged from the depths of the palace and met the king's awaiting gaze. The 10ft soldier, clad in the black of the royal guard nodded as her own green eyes pierced through her helmet and filled the king with hope.

Then the clock struck eleven and announced Margaret's darkest hour.

"Wasn't she known for being punctual?" Sybilla asked.

The princess' words barely escaped her mouth when footsteps crept up on the royal family. Distant footsteps, many footsteps from past the ornamented door that marked the northern entrance to the throne room. One could tell by the sound and rhythm alone that they were not from the royal guard, which was not present as it was agreed with the archduchess. No guard or soldier should be accompanying this meeting and yet the archduchess seemed to have arrived with her entire retinue. Just like Margaret dreaded.

"She was also not supposed to come with her soldiers," Margaret whispered and drew in sharper breaths.

"But we also came prepared," Euridike said calmly and look up to the single soldier who vanished back into the darkness she emerged from and took hidden passaged that only very few knew.

"And if things turn for the worst, you can rely on me too, sister," Sybilla said with an adamant tone.

Margaret hoped nothing more than it would not come to this. That her sister had to reach out to the sword she hid behind her seat and defend her king against those how might wish to depose her.

"Let's pray your hands will remain as unstained as they are now, Sybilla. For your sake and theirs," Margaret said.

The entourage stopped just outside the gate and whispers took their footsteps' place. Too distant to give meaning to the uttered words, but seemingly ones that made the whole troop of soldiers stiffen and punch their armoured chests at once. Then the gate opened and a lioness and her two cubs entered.

The archduchess' older daughter's steps thundered through the deserted hall that were more used to banquets and feasts than to brokering the kingdom's fate. With her being dressed in armour all the way up to her neck and a sword hanging from her side the die has been cast and Margaret shuddered as she found the same frightening determination in her eyes as in her mothers'.

Theresa's steps were not one of hurry, but calculated calmness and dictated the tempo of her daughters, one clearly willing to bring conflict into sacred halls and one that looked as uncomfortable as one could ever be. The trio walked closer and the archduchess' stoic gaze paralyzed Margaret who tried her hardest to look composed and royal, but couldn't stop her eyes from travelling back up into the ranks, hoping she would get the sign that everything would be alright.

Theresa noticed her king's mute plea for aid and stopped before turning around and looked up towards the ranks that could have made for a perfect ambush. There was no one there, not yet, but hopefully that would change soon. Better sooner than later.

"You let us wait, your highness," Theresa said and eventually turned around and returned to her calm pace. "I thought you might have forgotten our proposal."

Urgency didn't travel with her words, neither did anger as one could have expected to come from someone who waited almost two weeks since her bombastic arrival -- and her unspoken demand. The royal guards already informed her that the archduchess' wasn't idle either and tried to get a hang on the situation and to find out what happened with the highking she swore loyalty to. Like kingmother said, they had to act fast, for every moment that was handed to Theresa her next move would have been an even more decisive one. And she was a masterful chess player already.

"Your proposal was one of great significance, archduchess," Margaret said and straightened her back and gripped her sceptre more tightly as she withstood the lioness' silent stare. "One that deserved all the consideration from all of us. For your offer was a showing of great heart and even greater wisdom. The most loyal friend to the crown should not have received any less care than that."

Theresa's face was chiselled in stone and did not react to such a call of friendship, nor did she look inclined to pledge her loyalty either. She just kept slowly walking forward, her eyes nailing Margaret to her throne without any ounce of respect for her king.

The archduchess came to a hold right before the steps that led to the two thrones that were accompanied by the seat of the princess. Lucilla was the only one attempting to stick to the royal protocol and wanted to show some respect by bowing down towards her king. A silent gaze of her mother froze her in place before she could finish her posture and made her stand up in shame. Theresa did not bow, not even nod, as well as her older daughter who rested her right hand on her sword's handle as soon as stopped and showed no shame in breaking a rule that could have been punished by death -- if the royal guard would have been present.

"Your invitation came almost unexpected, your highness. And the way it had been delivered to us. One must wonder if you have changed your mind on who your closest and most loyal friends are," Theresa said and kept her eyes solely fixated on Margaret.

"The early days of a king are the ones that demand the most caution. As you were once witness yourself, archduchess. Although those days were luckily many winters ago," Euridike said and took Theresa's gaze away from her daughter.

"Aye, Euridike. Indeed, we were younger minds back then, but while those were days of what feels like a different age not too much has changed as one would have thought," Theresa said.

Margaret shifted in her seat as soon as the archduchess' eyes were off of her and inspected both of Theresa's daughters. Poor Lucilla, her head remained low and whilst wearing such joyful, colourful attire the sadness and shame radiating from her could not be denied. Whatever her mother planned, she took no pride in being a part of it. Contrarily to her older half-sister. The armoured blonde stood proud in open rebellion against the royalties sitting before her. Her blonde hair tied together into a lazy ponytail and with a stern gaze she looked ready for battle and seemingly found her first opponent. And it was the only one that could possibly match her brawn and skill in this room.

The highking slowly looked over to her left and saw that Sybilla already silently started battling their armoured guest. Her hair as well was tied together, her green eyes fierce and cold as ice like the rest of her muscled body tense and ready to jump at any moment. And she let Theresa's daughter know what would await her. She might wear no weapons with her right now and her padded uniform would be no match to the archduchess' famed smithery, but Margaret saw her sister train. And holding her own against the fiercest of guardswomen. The moment Sybilla would get her hands on a sword she would be a terrifying foe to anyone -- unless they would draw a pistol.

Queenmother played for time and managed to keep her intention hidden for longer than both her sisters would have been capable of, but Theresa eventually cut their nostalgic revelling in their shared past short.

"Yet, todays arrangement is not about us, Euridike," Theresa said and returned her attention to Margaret. "Neither about the fate of mere people. Like back then, we are united in our endeavour to find a course that would steer this kingdom and its people through future storms. To preserve what has been won and to assure that a balance this fragile would have been overseen by one who shares this vision."

Theresa took a step forward and planted her strong feet at the first stair towards the throne in a calculated display of dominance.

"Do we share this vision, my king?" she asked.

Margaret's lips subtly quivered and the comfort of her sceptre vanished. Almost liked It was already ripped away from her, but she had planned for this question.

"My dear, archduchess. It saddens me to see that your trust in your new king has been shaken already. So much so, that you question if we share our mutual interest in seeing our people prosper," Margaret said and got nothing in return as eery silence took hold of the hall.

"It is far from hard to claim noble intentions, but when it comes to staying true to those noble goals amidst adversity and hardships one truly shows how much they value their virtues, my king," Theresa returned eventually.

"I can assure you, archduchess, that I have never been more committed to put myself into the service of our people and hold up any virtues that are expected from a king that is wise and just. Otherwise, my family will make sure that their wisdom will reach my ears," Margaret returned and for once noticed a reaction on Theresa's face.

Her wrinkles shook slightly as she controlled the corners of her mouth and held back a smile and wouldn't it have been for her age; she would have remained in full control of herself and not have exposed her amusement.

"Nothing warms my heart more than hearing those words, my king," Theresa said and for the first time moved her idle hands in a wide, inviting gesture. "Your mother, more than anyone knew of the importance of the crown. Its value was not measured in the jewels that graced her head or the riches and power it could wield, but the knowledge that the price for peace and stability were sacrifices. Sacrifices that only a true king, worthy in mind and strength, would be able to make and to endure. Are you ready to pay this price?"

"I am willing to pay any price, to see this kingdom's future secured for generations to come. And I am willing to lay the foundation for this kingdom today," Margaret said with as much authority as her voice allowed.

This appeared to have pleased the archduchess and made her hands travel to her waist and push out her chest with pride.

"So, you have come to agree to our proposal. An arrangement that brings the two strongest families together into one. One family, one purpose and one destiny to be the guardian of our people and lead them with wisdom and strength?"

The highking's blue eyes fired up again when she spotted motion from the furthest corner of her vision that still held on to the highest ranks behind the archduchess. It was time then and not one moment too early.

She looked to her left and nodded to her sister who still measured up Theresa's daughter.

"Bring her in," Margaret said softly and made Sybilla snap out of her mute battle.

She obliged, bowed towards her king and ignored the puzzled look on the archduchess' face.

"Bring who in?" she asked as the triumphant expression on her face was washed away.

The southern gate behind the throne was pushed open by the hulking princess and one single woman waited at the other side, dressed in her military uniform and accompanied by the sword of a former sister that once wore it in those sacred halls -- just like she once did.

"Your highness," Alexia said and slowly stepped forward.

Margaret could tell how much her lover struggled to keep her wounds hidden. Every step tormented her, just like wearing her agonizingly tight attire. Margaret could tell that with certainty, since she had to help Alexia get into her outfit in the first place -- and listen to her growls of pain. The weight of Beth's sword and even of those few medals she reluctantly wore weighed her down and would have restricted most to the confines of their beds. But Alexia pushed on, with steady pace and an expression out of marble, just like the colour of her face.

She turned to face the royal family and bowed. Her black curls only partially obstructed her grimace as colour shoot back into her face. Alexia bit her lip and held back a groan and straightened her back up again, all in one precise motion as it was expected from the former commander of the royal guard. Her grey eyes only shortly met her lover's and were filled with the same unwavering commitment Margaret learned to love from her future wife. She was adamant the plan would succeed and so should Margaret.

"What is the meaning of this, my king?" Theresa asked and eyed Alexia top to bottom who this time withstood her piercing gaze.

"This, my dear archduchess, is the woman that combined all the virtues that you deemed would make one worthy of a crown. The woman who was willing to pay any price to save the ones she holds dear, no matter the cost. And the woman that taught me what it means to be selfless and stand firm in the darkest of times," Margaret said with growing enthusiasm.

The archduchess seemed to have realised where this was going on and her expression shifted from mild confusion to growing annoyance.

"Come to the point, my king."

"Who you see standing before you will be your future queen, archduchess. And the woman that secured the line of succession for she is the mother of the life blossoming within me," Margaret said and initially planned to go on, but Theresa's sudden shift in her body language made her pause.

She crossed her arms before her, and displayed that for someone who claimed to be oh so fragile and one with only few winters left, that she was still in great shape. Her eyes darted between Alexia and Margaret as her prodigious intellect conjured up her reply, until she seemingly found the next move. It must have been a great one, otherwise she would not have smiled this openly.

"You disappoint me, your highness. Not only are you humiliating me and my daughter by choosing someone this much below our standing, but also one who would be better suited to a prison cell than the throne by your side. Or even the gallows, if some of the stories about her are to be believed. Not that a woman that took the black should need reminding that she forfeited any life beyond her oath. If she ever considered fulfilling such a holy promise in the first place," Theresa said coldly while singling out Alexia with her predatory stare.

Margaret saw her lover's knuckles whitened as she clenched her fist behind her back, but still somehow kept her emotions in check. She granted the archduchess not an even greater victory by showing how deep that dagger hit her, but the king could tell that it was a stab deeper than one could imagine.

"But what else is to be expected of children that haven't yet learned the most important lesson in life," Theresa said, whose unrelenting eyes once more rested solely on Margaret.

"And may I ask what this lection might be, archduchess. For I am even less experienced in life than the king you dare to name a child," Sybilla asked so her sister didn't have to.

"That it doesn't matter what we want, my dear princess. That the ones given the strength and wisdom to protect the many seize to exist as an individual. That their lives will be devoted to greater purposes than their own existence. This is the price we have to pay, my young princess and the one your sister clearly is not prepared to pay."

Theresa's voice barely faded before she turned her attention to Euridike.

"What disheartens me most, is that you are putting no stop to this madness, Euridike. You were there when we set out and did what was necessary. When we gave up ourselves so that the others could thrive. But who am I to tell you this story again? You and Anastasia were there when it was written, you should have known better and made sure your daughters learned that lection."

"Do not lecture me on how to raise my daughters, Theresa," Euridike returned uncharacteristically coldly.

"Aye. It's a tragedy I have to lecture you on such things. And also, that I am the one who has to inform you about the secrets your beloved daughter kept hidden from you," Theresa said and shot Margaret a look of pure disgust. "The woman that was asked to protect this kingdom stood in the way of the daughter you two failed to raise proper. Not only does she show no regard for the shoes she tries to fill, but left her imprisoned, rotting away or maybe got rid of her already in her pursuit of childish power."

Margaret frowned and stole a short glimpse on the sole figure looking down at the scene from the highest ranks and saw her silently head downstairs.

"What are you referring to?" Margaret asked.

"I am referring to the prisoner who no longer resides in your cells and who after weeks of humiliation disappeared without a trace. You look surprised Euridike, maybe your daughter didn't deem this information worth mentioning when she asked you to uphold the importance of family?"

Theresa's wrinkled face grew darker by the second. She was visibly fuming with anger by now and her daugher's grip around her sword tightened as well as she awaited the order that would mark their fate. Like kingmother told Margaret, the archduchess came prepared and did weave her net of intrigue around the palace before committing to her course of action. She dug her claws into the royal guard and without a doubt used her influence to get the information she needed ... and probably even more. Just like kingmother expected. And just like she told Margaret minutes before the clock struck eleven, the archduchess would be defeated while playing her own game.

"I am well aware about the ongoings within my family and in my palace, archduchess," Euridike replied.

The archduchess sighed and shook her head in resignation. She looked genuinely struck by the situation she found herself in and stumbled back until she stood between her brawny daughter and poor Lucilla.