Casspian
The Hall remained filled with the sound of crying.
Palace women stood near the pillars, wiping their eyes with linen cloths.
They whispered about Josephine, talking about her gentle nature, how she had never raised her voice at a servant, and how she had treated every person in La Fita with respect.
“She was such a good queen,” a woman near the archway whispered, pressing a handkerchief to her nose.
“She did not deserve to die in that fire,” another woman said beside her.
“She was still so young,” a third woman added, her voice trembling.
“And she was carrying a child too,” a man near the back muttered, shaking his head.
Their voices blended together into a low hum.
I lowered my head toward the cold floor and let wet drops fall from my eyes.
I cried with them, making my shoulders shake in quick, irregular jerks.
I pulled air into my chest through my teeth, producing a rough, choked sound in my throat.
I covered my face with both hands, pressing my palms against my cheeks until the skin turned red.
I rubbed my eyes hard to make them water more.
Anyone watching me saw a man broken by grief.
Underneath my hands, my lips wanted to pull back into a wide smile.
Inside my chest, my heart beat with a calm, steady rhythm.
Josephine was dead.
Her father’s bloodline has ended.
The path to complete control over La Fita had opened wide before me.
A laugh built in my throat, but I bit the inside of my cheek until I tasted blood to keep the sound from coming out.
I had to play the mourning husband.
I had to convince every noble in this room that her death had destroyed my mind.
Footsteps scraped across the floor.
Chancellor Logan stopped two steps away from me.
He bent down and placed his heavy hand on my right arm.
“Your Majesty, please,” Logan said, his deep voice sounding strained as he tugged at my sleeve.
“We understand your pain, but you have to get off the floor.”
I did not look up at his face.
I kept my chin pressed against my chest and shook my head side to side.
“I cannot,” I said, letting my voice sound weak and breathless.
“You are the king,” Logan insisted, pulling upward on my arm.
“The people in this hall need to see their ruler standing.”
I let my knees bend completely and dropped my body backward, letting my back hit the bottom stone step of the dais.
“No,” I groaned out, closing my eyes.
Lord Thomas and Lord Gerald rushed forward from the crowd.
Thomas grabbed my left elbow while Gerald grabbed my right coat sleeve.
Together with Logan, they lifted my body off the floor and guided me up the three steps.
They lowered me into the high wooden seat of the throne.
“Please, Majesty,” Logan said, standing beside my chair. Find the original chapter at g.com.
“You cannot remain on the floor. You are the king of La Fita.”
I sat back against the velvet cushion and looked at the crowd through wet eyes.
“My wife,” I said, letting my voice shake on the second word.
“She was pregnant.”
The whispers near the pillars stopped immediately.
The entire hall became quiet.
“I was told she was in labor,” I said, lifting my hand to wipe my wet cheek with my sleeve.
“That was the last report I received before I entered this hall. I was told she was about to give birth.”
I swallowed hard, making my throat move up and down in full view of the nobles.
“I remember feeling so happy,” I continued, looking down at my flat hands in my lap.
“She was supposed to give birth around the time of her birthday. I had already ordered new clothes for the baby. I had workmen preparing the small cradle in the east wing.”
My voice broke on the word cradle, and I paused for five seconds to pull air into my lungs.
“I do not know how to move forward from this,” I said, looking up at the rows of lords and tax collectors.
“My wife is dead. And now my child is dead with her in the ash.”
Lord Thomas lowered his head, staring down at his black boots.
Lord Gerald wiped his cheek with a folded cloth.
“How am I supposed to continue?” I asked, turning my hands palm-up on my knees.
“How am I supposed to wake up every morning in this palace, knowing that both of them are gone forever?”
Logan cleared his throat loudly, turning his body toward the center of the hall.
His gray beard looked stiff against his high collar.
“That is exactly why we must think about the kingdom, Your Majesty,” Logan said, his voice ringing out across the room.
I tilted my head up slightly, keeping my expression tired.
“The kingdom?”
“Yes, Majesty,” Logan replied, sweeping his hand toward the gathered nobles.
“Our ancestors warned us about a situation like this.”
A low murmur moved through the rows of men near the back.
“The elders in the hills have always said that La Fita falls into ruin whenever the throne loses its legitimate backing,” Logan said, his voice growing heavier.
“I do not want to die in a war over succession. I do not want our farms burned and our people left to suffer because of this fire.”
I lowered my eyes, keeping my lips closed.
“Without the Kingmaker bloodline to approve your crown, your reign itself is at stake,” Logan continued, stepping to the edge of the dais.
“I am afraid of what might happen to La Fita now that the Queen is dead.”
Logan looked around at the guards standing near the entrance.
“What about her father, Lord Orion Vale?”
My pulse gave a quick jump behind my neck, but I kept my hands still on my lap.
“Call him,” Logan commanded the guards, pointing his finger toward the heavy wooden doors.
“We need to hear from Lord Orion Vale. We need to know if any other branch of his family carries the Kingmaker blood.”
Before the guards could take two steps down the red rug, Corvin moved out from the shadow of a pillar.
His gray coat was still dirty His hair stuck to his temples with sweat.
“I am afraid that is impossible, Lord Logan,” Corvin said, his voice flat and steady.
Logan stopped and turned his head toward Corvin.
“Why is it impossible?” New chapters come out on g.com first.
Corvin lowered his head, looking at the stone floor near his boots.
“The Queen’s father passed away as well.”
I widened my eyes immediately.
I pushed myself up an inch from the velvet seat, grabbing the wooden armrests tightly.
“What?” I shouted, letting my voice sound thin and shocked.
“What did you say?”
I looked at Corvin, letting my face express complete shock.
“Her father died too?”
“Yes, Majesty,” Corvin said, keeping his eyes on the floor.
“Lord Orion Vale passed away in his bed an hour ago. His heart failed when the news of his daughter reached his house.”
I brought both hands up to cover my mouth, letting out a low groan into my palms.
Inside my mind, I felt no shock at all.
I had known the old man was dead before I ever walked into this hall.
I was the one who had instructed Corvin behind the window to erase every member of that family.
Corvin had carried out the murder quietly, putting a pillow over the old man’s face or poison in his cup, and now the story was set.
I was only acting surprised because no public officer had announced his death yet.
“What am I going to do now?” I asked, letting my hands fall back to my lap.
“What am I supposed to do with an empty house?”
Logan stepped up the first stone stair of the dais, stopping close to my knees.
“Enough, Majesty,” Logan said.
His voice hardened.
“Your wife died. It is a painful loss, and every man in this room understands that. But you are the king.”
I wiped my face with the back of my hand.
“The law,” I whispered, making my jaw tremble.
“The ancient law demands Kingmaker blood to make a ruler legal in the eyes of the towns.”
I looked toward the rows of nobles.
“And now that entire bloodline is gone.”
Logan nodded his head slowly.
“You are right. But that is the exact problem we are facing today.”
He turned around to address the entire room.
“The entire Kingmaker bloodline has been wiped out in days.”
Several nobles exchanged worried looks, leaning toward one another to whisper.
“And the official mourning period for a fallen queen is supposed to last nearly a full year,” Logan said, holding up his right hand.
“Are we supposed to leave the kingdom without a settled heir for that long?”
A nobleman in a blue wool coat stepped forward from the third row.
“That is impossible,” he called out.
“We cannot allow the throne to remain uncertain for an entire year. The western elder lords will cross the river if they hear our legal standing is broken.”
“We need an heir,”