chapter 2 - A Queen’s Deception

The palace shimmers in preparation of a ball. The glow of golden light chandeliers glowing upon the grand ballroom. Tonight wasn't just any royal event, it was the King's birthday ball, a night where power, wealth and influence mingled. The elite of the kingdom, the 1% of society, gathered in splendor, endowed in glittering jewels, diamonds in its finest form, refined laughter and absolute perfection. The finest aged wine, and soothing music from the kingdom's best performer. 

 King Maxwell sat at the heart of it all in his special cabin, with his commanding presence. This was his celebration, yet he felt more like an observer. His eyes sweeping the crown absently, until his gaze landed on Lady Francesca, draped in a gown of emerald silk, that shimmers under the chandelier. She was breath taking, refined and elegant. 

 Lady Francesca had been trained in the ways of royalty. From the time she was born, she was betrothed and groomed to take her place at Maxwell's side, to be his bride and the queen the kingdom deserved. 

 Despite her elegant qualities, Maxwell never wanted her. From when he was a young prince, his heart had been to Elena, the beautiful and quiet daughter of the palace gardener. A woman of no noble birth, no standing, no wealth. A total commoner, whose only crime was capturing the love of an heir who had vowed to make her his queen, and so he did. And that in the eyes of the Queen mother, was an unforgivable offense. 

 Tonight, that mistake would be corrected with a carefully planned plot by the Queen mother herself. 

 Tonight, the Queen mother observed the event carefully. Every detail of the night, the guest list, the attendance, the intoxicating flow of wine, and most importantly, the perfectly timed glances between Francesca and the king. This wasn't merely a ball but an execution of her plans. 

 The king's wine has been specially spiked by his mother, once the king was sufficiently intoxicated and blurred into reckless indulgence, Francesca would be led to his chambers. And there would be only one course of action left. 

 A scandal of such magnitude could not be afforded by the crown, so Maxwell would have no choice but to take Francesca as his wife, and Elena? She would be erased, a foolish mistake best forgotten. A plan well plotted indeed. 

 And in all of these, Elena remained oblivious to the Queen mother's plans. She had spent the night tending to guest, ensuring the music never faltered, directing servants and giving her best to ensure the ball proceeded flawlessly. And by the time she realized, it might be too late. 

 As the night stretched long, king Maxwell got bored and retired to his chamber with a clouded mind and his body heavy with intoxication. At this point there was only one person he craved to see. Elena. He summoned his servant. "Bring me my queen." He commanded, with his voice full of exhaustion. 

 But Elena had been deliberately detained. Assigned an urgent duty by the Queen mother at the far end of the palace. An arrangement carefully devised to ensure that by the time she was free, it would already be too late. 

 As the servant moved to fetch Elena, the Queen Mother intercepted him at the hallway, and commanded him to take Francesca to the king's chamber in place of Elena. 

 Lady Francesca. She was a vision to behold. Dressed in a luxurious royal robe, embroidered with gold, her scent was expensive and intoxicating, delicate, yet commanding, her hair had been neatly tied in an elegant style, revealing her neck curves, her skin had been polished in expensive milk bath, and her fragrance, seductive. 

 Maxwell could recognize her, even in his subconscious. He knew it was Francesca. But she was too beautiful and glorious in a way that could not be ignored. 

 She stepped towards him, slowly and deliberate, no hesitation in her movements. This had been rehearsed, planned to perfection. She reached him with her hands moving with ease around his chest, unbuttoning his shirt slowly. 

 "Your majesty," she whispered with reverence in her voice. Though he didn't respond, but didn't move away either. Slowly, gently, she touch him, with the practiced elegance of a woman fulfilling her destiny. Her silky robe gently fell beneath her, exposing her unclad beauty, her fingers tracing paths she had only imagined. Yet Maxwell did not resist, he let himself undone, which led to a passionate intimacy. 

 By the time Elena finally finished her duty, she made her way to the king's chamber, her heart racing with anticipation. The night had been filled with endless duties, all she wanted now was to seek comfort in the hands of her dearest husband. But as she reached the doors and pushed them open, her entire world became shattered. Witnessing the scene she had never thought to see. On her royal matrimonial bed, her husband lay intertwined with another woman. 

 Lady Francesca, the woman groomed to be queen, the same woman the royal family had always deemed worthy of Maxwell's side, the woman who had been a persistent threat to her matrimony. 

 Elena struggled to breathe. Her vision blurred by her tears. She stepped back, then turned, running down the grand staircase, her sobs echoing through the empty halls. 

 And then, as if waiting for the tragic moment, the Queen Mother appeared. Her expression was one of cold victory. With no empathy, she took a step forward towards Elena. 

 "Ah, poor Elena," her voice dripping with venom. "You see my dear, the king had finally made his choice."

Elena fell to the ground, her chest rising and falling like it's being pounded. Yet the Queen mother continued. " A choice worthy of royalty."