Chapter 61: Find the Crown Prince

The Queen's Private Chamber - Midnight

Moonlight filtered through the high arched windows, falling in broken shafts onto the polished marble floor. The air was thick with the scent of smoldering frankincense. Behind the satin-draped windows, the palace slept most of it, at least.

But not Queen Isolde.

She stood near the fireplace, one hand gripping the stone mantel as she watched the flames flicker. Her posture was rigid, composed only in form. In her eyes, a storm brewed.

A soft knock.

"Enter," she said coldly.

Lord Chancellor Eldric stepped inside, his robes trailing behind him. A hawkish man in his sixties with deep-set eyes and a mind as sharp as any blade in the royal armory, Lord Eldric bowed only slightly. He had served three monarchs, and bowed only when it served a purpose.

"You summoned me, Your Majesty."

"You took long enough," she murmured, not turning. "Sit."

He did. A silver tray between them held untouched wine and two goblets.

"Well? How bad is it?"

Lord Chancellor Eldric didn't sugarcoat. "Worse than yesterday. Two more lords from the Western Marches have pledged support to Prince Benedict. He has the entire South now, and with Lord Darric defecting last week, he's nearly secured the High Seat of Port Allyn."

The Queen's jaw clenched. "And our own people?"

Eldric hesitated. "Wavering."

She crossed the room slowly and poured herself a small goblet of wine, then gestured to the one laid out for him. He declined.

"They fear Prince Benedict's influence," Lord Chancellor said. "He speaks with confidence. Offers titles, land… future prospects."

"They're afraid you can't promise anything at all." Lord Eldric said, his shrewd eyes filled with caution.

Queen Isolde turned sharply.

The words hung heavy in the air.

Isolde's lips tightened. "Say it plainly."

"The absence of Crown Prince Stefan is a festering wound. One that Prince Benedict's faction is carving open for all to see. Without an heir present, the king's fading strength makes him appear already...replaced."

Queen Isolde's voice lowered to a bitter whisper. "We never should have let Stefan take that damn mission."

Lord Eldric's gaze remained steady. "He insisted. He said if he were to be king, he must win the trust of the border generals himself. He left with your blessing. And the King's."

"He was supposed to return within a fortnight."

"That was five months ago."

The Queen's eyes dimmed with memory.

Crown Prince Stefan, the king's only legitimate son and heir, vanished on a diplomatic mission five months ago to the border kingdom of Verindale. The escorts were attacked. The royal guards were found slaughtered weeks later in the northern marshes. No body of the prince was ever recovered. Rumors swirled: some claimed he was taken captive by mercenaries, others whispered treachery from within. A few said he fled on his own to escape an arranged betrothal to a Verindale princess. His fate was never confirmed. And without a corpse, the court could not declare him dead nor could it crown him.

Isolde exhaled sharply and paced. "We've heard nothing, no letter, no messenger. If he's dead..."

"He may not be,"Lord Eldric interjected. "But until we have proof he lives, or a body, Prince Benedict is the only heir in sight. The court grows restless. Even those who swore fealty to the crown prince privately whisper that it may be time to...adjust their allegiances."

Queen Isolde stopped pacing and looked him dead in the eye. "Even you?"

Lord Chancellor Eldric didn't flinch. "I serve the crown. But a crown without a head invites vultures. You must act, Your Majesty. Now."

Isolde's fingers curled against her skirt. "If I move too soon, I spark civil war. If I wait too long, Benedict seizes the throne with the support of half the council Privy." Queen Isolde looked both frustrated and cornered.

"And what of the king?" Lord Eldric asked.

She turned back to the fire. "It's only a matter of time before the inevitable. He sleeps more than he wakes. And when he does wake, he confuses me with his mother. His mind is rotting."

Eldric nodded grimly. "Prince Benedict knows that too. It's only a matter of time before he declares the king unfit and demands the regency for himself."

"He won't get it," she said fiercely.

"He will if the court supports him."

There was silence.

"If Benedict seizes the throne," she said, voice softer now, "he will kill anyone who stood against him. He wears charm like a mask, but I've seen the rot underneath. He will butcher his way to power and call it providence."

Lord Eldric spoke more carefully now. "Your Majesty, if there is any truth to the rumors of Prince Stefan being alive..."

She whirled toward him. "Then find him. Use every spy, every coin, every favor we're owed. I don't care if you have to dig him out of a mercenary den or drag him from a monastery. If Stefan is alive, I want him home."

Eldric bowed his head. "Yes, Your Majesty."

"And Prince Benedict?"His voice weary.

Queen Isolde looked away. "We delay him. Expose his corruption, if we can. Feed his arrogance. If he believes we're paralyzed, he'll get sloppy."

Lord Chancellor Eldric rose slowly. "It's a dangerous game."

"I know," she said. "But if I must play it to protect the throne for my son, then let it be dangerous."

A pause.

"Find my son, Lord Chancellor," she added, her voice barely a whisper. "Before Benedict finds the crown."

She looked back out the window, toward the starless sky.

"It'll be done Your Majesty "said Lord Chancellor, his expression solemn. He excused himself and turned to leave.

"And Lord Eldric?"

He paused at the door.

"If Prince Benedict moves to crown himself while the King still draws breath… we may need to act first."

Lord Eldric hesitated. "Do you mean to…?"

She didn't answer. She didn't have to.

The fires of war were building and the Queen would strike before she let a usurper sit the throne.