05-02-2024, 06:39 AM
Royal Palace, Lumiere
May 1st, 2024, 8:55 PM
What has our family become?
The sound of slowly rustling papers echoed through the salon, providing some noise in what would otherwise be unbearable silence. Katherina Laurent slowly adjusted a small stack of papers that sat on the polished bar next to an untouched glass of Spece that the Queen couldn’t bring herself to drink. A small, opened envelope sat atop a stack of security logs grainy screencaps of security camera footage.
Katherina stared vacantly at the mural of a berry field on the nearby wall, feeling almost completely numb. The recent spike of emotion from the past couple of hours had combined with her rising stress levels from the ongoing parliamentary debates, leaving the young monarch completely drained. However, unlike many monarchs before her, she found solace in neither local liquor nor imported luxuries. That particular night, for Katherina, all of the elegant trappings of the palace only highlighted the ironic reality that her family was falling apart at the seams.
A few knocks reverberated through the old oak door. The Queen didn’t answer, but the guard on the other side opened up the door anyways, revealing Prince Tōmas and his entourage of Golden Guards. “Mōs atstiet,” he said, dismissing his detail to the hallway. Katherina barely looked at him, instead continuing to examine the mural.
“You missed the fundraiser downtown. What happened, Kat?”
The Queen held back a sneer, electing to close her eyes instead. “I should be asking you the same question, Breima.” That term, usually used to convey familial endearment, now took on a more sinister tone.
“What? What do you mean? Kat, I-”
“Don’t. Just don’t.” The Queen still didn’t look at her brother. “I know about your spies on my staff. I know about your little meeting with monarchist holdouts in the Convention. And I know about the speeches that you keep on hand just in case I slip up.” She pointedly glanced over her shoulder. “Tell me, how long have you intended to overthrow me?”
Tōmas’s expression hardened. “Overthrow you? How dare you! You accuse me of trying to overthrow you while you let radicals strip away the Monarchy piece by piece? Your lack of consistent and decisive action has caused the people to lose all faith in us. It’s not me who you should be afraid of.”
“You think I’m afraid of you? You think I’m desperately trying to thwart your little games to keep control for myself?” Katherina looked away again as her eyes started to fill with tears. “I’m afraid of the damage that you would cause. That you have caused.”
The Prince’s face fell. “That I… what happened?”
Katherina grabbed the stack of papers and the glass from the bar, turning towards the door. “Why don’t you use your little network of spies and figure it out?” She briskly left the room, not stopping to breathe until she got to her private chambers. She carefully placed the papers on the bed, delicately opening the envelope once again to reveal a small note in a familiar handwriting.
I don’t want to be part of this anymore.
I’ll be safe. I don’t know if I’ll be back.
Don’t look for me.
The tears fell down in earnest now, staining the cream-colored stationary a shade of light grey.
With an unsteady sigh, the Queen reassembled the papers when a thought caused her to pause. She opened a drawer in her nightstand and removed a small metal object as well as the small trash can from the side of her bed. Walking over to the outer door, she waited for a nod from the supervising guard before stepping onto the balcony overlooking the courtyard. The crisp autumn air blew her hair back as she placed the trash can on the stone floor.
With one fluid motion, she tossed the screenshots and the letter in the bin before pouring out her glass of Spece on top of it. She fished the small lighter from her pocket and ignited it, tossing it in the bin before stepping back. The liquor caused the flames to spread quickly and burn brightly, quickly burning through the papers stacked within the bin.
As the smell of smoke drifted up to her nose, Katherina looked upwards towards the stars, saying a silent prayer.
May the Angels protect you, Matēu.
May 1st, 2024, 8:55 PM
What has our family become?
The sound of slowly rustling papers echoed through the salon, providing some noise in what would otherwise be unbearable silence. Katherina Laurent slowly adjusted a small stack of papers that sat on the polished bar next to an untouched glass of Spece that the Queen couldn’t bring herself to drink. A small, opened envelope sat atop a stack of security logs grainy screencaps of security camera footage.
Katherina stared vacantly at the mural of a berry field on the nearby wall, feeling almost completely numb. The recent spike of emotion from the past couple of hours had combined with her rising stress levels from the ongoing parliamentary debates, leaving the young monarch completely drained. However, unlike many monarchs before her, she found solace in neither local liquor nor imported luxuries. That particular night, for Katherina, all of the elegant trappings of the palace only highlighted the ironic reality that her family was falling apart at the seams.
A few knocks reverberated through the old oak door. The Queen didn’t answer, but the guard on the other side opened up the door anyways, revealing Prince Tōmas and his entourage of Golden Guards. “Mōs atstiet,” he said, dismissing his detail to the hallway. Katherina barely looked at him, instead continuing to examine the mural.
“You missed the fundraiser downtown. What happened, Kat?”
The Queen held back a sneer, electing to close her eyes instead. “I should be asking you the same question, Breima.” That term, usually used to convey familial endearment, now took on a more sinister tone.
“What? What do you mean? Kat, I-”
“Don’t. Just don’t.” The Queen still didn’t look at her brother. “I know about your spies on my staff. I know about your little meeting with monarchist holdouts in the Convention. And I know about the speeches that you keep on hand just in case I slip up.” She pointedly glanced over her shoulder. “Tell me, how long have you intended to overthrow me?”
Tōmas’s expression hardened. “Overthrow you? How dare you! You accuse me of trying to overthrow you while you let radicals strip away the Monarchy piece by piece? Your lack of consistent and decisive action has caused the people to lose all faith in us. It’s not me who you should be afraid of.”
“You think I’m afraid of you? You think I’m desperately trying to thwart your little games to keep control for myself?” Katherina looked away again as her eyes started to fill with tears. “I’m afraid of the damage that you would cause. That you have caused.”
The Prince’s face fell. “That I… what happened?”
Katherina grabbed the stack of papers and the glass from the bar, turning towards the door. “Why don’t you use your little network of spies and figure it out?” She briskly left the room, not stopping to breathe until she got to her private chambers. She carefully placed the papers on the bed, delicately opening the envelope once again to reveal a small note in a familiar handwriting.
I don’t want to be part of this anymore.
I’ll be safe. I don’t know if I’ll be back.
Don’t look for me.
The tears fell down in earnest now, staining the cream-colored stationary a shade of light grey.
With an unsteady sigh, the Queen reassembled the papers when a thought caused her to pause. She opened a drawer in her nightstand and removed a small metal object as well as the small trash can from the side of her bed. Walking over to the outer door, she waited for a nod from the supervising guard before stepping onto the balcony overlooking the courtyard. The crisp autumn air blew her hair back as she placed the trash can on the stone floor.
With one fluid motion, she tossed the screenshots and the letter in the bin before pouring out her glass of Spece on top of it. She fished the small lighter from her pocket and ignited it, tossing it in the bin before stepping back. The liquor caused the flames to spread quickly and burn brightly, quickly burning through the papers stacked within the bin.
As the smell of smoke drifted up to her nose, Katherina looked upwards towards the stars, saying a silent prayer.
May the Angels protect you, Matēu.
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