Chapter 2. The King is Dead

At that moment the door, which was directly opposite to me, was opened. I was glad that my sight had already returned to me.

The one who entered through the door was the hottest woman I've ever seen.

All local dresses were medieval and utterly close-minded. It was hard to make something out. But such beauty could not be hidden by any ridiculous attire. Her beauty bulged with her two decently-sized jugs, and it seemed to me that there was nothing more under her dress.

The nature gifted her with a pretty face too. But now this beautiful face was contorted with a grimace of grief and anger; in my opinion, it was too deliberate to be able to believe in the sincerity of these feelings.

"Who dared ?!" she screamed so much so that the closest courtiers closed their ears. "My dear brother Genevies made a solemn oath and put on the crown just a day before, and now he is no longer with us."

Brother?!! This is a bummer, I thought.

Although ... Her brother is that Genevis, and not me at all, so technically she is not my sister, right? I still have a chance to try my luck! Moreover, I still need to stain my karma. Why not in this way ..?

"This is a rebellion!" my dear sister could not let up. "And the rebels are here among us! Guards!"

The guards appeared right away from behind my sister.

They definitely came with her. Clad in mail armor, wielding swords and halberds, they jumped out of the doorway. There were at least thirty of them.

My sister obviously had a reason to come here with a small army.

"Indeed," carried through her old man with gold vestments. "This is vile and insidious betrayal. And I am ready to give you the names of those who are responsible for this!"

Humming and noisy hall grew quiet.

I tried to keep my corpse look as best as I could, but nobody even looked at me. Who in their sane mind would mind some dead king, when a guy next to you may be a traitor and a rebel? Now they have the main question to answer: which fraction will win.

"Speak up, Bishop!" nodded my sister. She's just said two words, but that indescribably disgusting tone with which they were spoken clearly made me understand: we have an alpha bitch on our hands. Pure and simple. She's of a high-quality, even though you can hand her over a purse with a hat, and send her straight to Beverly Hills. She would fit right in.

"Who has made an attempt on my cousin's most august life?"

Oh, so she's just a cousin ... Well, not that bad either.

"Here they are!" accusatory pointed an old woman somewhere in the crowd. "Queen Valissa and her henchmen! Everything is obvious: at first, she tricked Genevis to marry her, then got rid of his father to make him the king. After yesterday's ceremony, Valissa became the queen, and decided that she did not need Genevis anymore! Traitors!

"Traitors!" echoed the room. "Villains! Scoundrels! Bastards..!"

They just kept going on and on. I imperceptibly grimaced. I doubt that at least one of those gathered here is an example of virtue. However, everyone pretends to be outraged by the murder. It doesn't even matter if the queen is really to blame for it, or not. Just blaming the other for what you yourself would have done willingly is the prime example of hypocrisy!

The crowd dispersed, or rather, recoiled from the queen and her relatives, who stood alone. I looked at my wife and the possible killer. Just a regular ... Not an ugly one, but rather slim and exquisitely beautiful. She was pale and, as it seems, she did not say a word during all the turmoil.

"This is bullshit!" banged on the table a tall guy on the right of me. "Why would the queen kill Genevis? Everyone knows that their marriage was political, and in the event of his death, Valissa loses all her influence!"

"Exactly!" attempted to regain the initiative the cunning old bishop. "Valissa is from Velgovia! This is an attempt by the Velgovian bastards to seize our throne!"

"Bishop, you are out of your mind!" stood up for herself Valissa. "Maybe I don't have the support of the court, as Sir Oldie mentioned, but I'm still the legitimate queen! And the accusations of this terrible murder are not only a disgraceful, obvious lie, but also treason!"

I sighed to myself. My wife, it seems, was not the brightest tool in shed. Whoever poisoned the salad, he wanted to seize power for himself, rather than to pass it on to the "legitimate queen". If she wanted to survive, she needed to be humble and quiet, while she ...

"Here you go, exposing yourself like that!" howled my cousin, chiming in with my thoughts (her voice was not that unpleasant, but very loud). "Capture her!"

Big guys with halberds rushed to attack Valissa, who, having noticed two men approaching her, gave an equally loud squeal.

"Don't forget about her relatives and friends!" shouted the bishop to the guards.

"Damn it!" cursed the tall guy, grabbing his chair and throwing it into the guards. "As long as I live, no one will attack the legitimate queen of the country and the wife of my deceased King! You will regret it, bishop!"

"She is not a queen !!" screamed my cousin. "I AM A DIRECT REPRESENTATIVE OF THE DYNASTY, NOT HER !!!

"I AM KING'S WIDOW!!" proclaimed Valissa. "AND I AM YOUR LEGAL RULER, STOP IMMEDIATELY!"

Following the heart-rending squeals of the two wiping girls, there were other shouts; Sir Aldy, the one who threw a chair, drew his sword and rushed to intercept the guards who attacked the queen. Someone knocked over the table, someone slipped on a spilled sauce ... in short, political intrigues finally turned into a farce.

"Traitors will not escape!" triumphantly shouted the bishop, wisely deciding to move to the wall. "Sir Aldy is clearly in agreement with the king's killers, kill him!"

What a spot, I thought. The answer to all the issues is murder. Is the king in a way? Let's kill him! A burdensome knight? Let's kill him! The queen is off her rocker..?

Although, if you think about it, this was the point. When you are surrounded by such moral monsters and hypocrites, it is much easier to order the executioner once or pay a hired killer than to hold a regret of not having done so when you had a chance.

I noticed that while Sir Oldie was fighting off the guards with his sword, his few comrades-in-arms used trays and chair legs as weapons. Maybe, wielding a weapon in the presence of the king is a special privilege? Oldie is sitting right next to me!

Even though it was all exciting, but I decided that it was high time to get the hell out of here. I should slide under the table, and, using it as a cover, rush to the door. I need to do so, while everyone is distracted by the battle, but if someone in this madhouse realizes that I am alive, they will definitely kill me, and no one will even ask for my opinion!

Quietly, by an inch, I began to slide down. The main thing is not to attract any attention. It seems that both the bishop and the cousin-princess, and the rest of the courtiers did not look at me, and I was almost under the table ...

Then I dropped the chair with a terrible noise.