Chapter Two: What Happened After Sunrise
We walked quickly down the stone corridor toward my late father’s chamber. Tobias stayed close to me in case I fainted again. I hoped that I wouldn’t – it was getting embarrassing. The undertaker stood outside giving orders to one of his younger apprentices. We just caught the end of their conversation.
“Take this.” He handed the young boy a rolled-up parchment sealed with wax. “Run to the chemist in the Western wing – people there will be able to give you directions; he is well known. Run, do you understand me? It’s urgent!” With that, the boy pounded away as fast as his legs could carry him.
“What’s so urgent?” Tobias asked.
The undertaker bowed, then answered. “One of the advisors died. A messenger following the soldier that went towards your chamber rushed here. The reports of the circumstances of his death were, ah, concerning. Shouldn’t be any trouble, but I need a second opinion when the remains arrive.” He turned to me. “Now, I’m sure you’d like to see your father’s body?”
I nodded, and the undertaker led us into the chamber. Already, the wall decorations – great woven tapestries, suits of armor, wrought iron designs, and wooden carvings of all kinds – had been removed and placed in a corner, hidden poorly under a sheet of rough linen. The bed, changed from its usual sheets and quilts of soft, dark cloth, was shrouded in thin white material. My father’s body, clean and robed in a simple dark grey tunic, laid in the center. With his eyes closed and hands crossed over his crown that had been placed on his chest, he looked almost as if he were asleep. A sense of loss once again overwhelmed me; I made my way to the right side of the bed and descended to my knees, pressing my face into the thin white sheet covering the mattress.
“Clear the room,” Tobias ordered.
I heard feet shuffling into the hallway, then the click of the door shutting. Tobias walked to and then knelt beside me. I lifted my face, but didn’t look at him.
“I always thought I didn’t love him,” I began, “But, now that he’s dead, now that he’s gone, I can see that he was good. Of course – of course I would see that now.” When I spoke the last word, I pounded my fist into the mattress. Tobias looked confused at the outburst and I took a deep breath. “We really don’t have time to waste. Let’s finish here, then we can wait for news until the advisors arrive with Nathan.”
Tobias rose and helped me to my feet, then called everyone back into the room. The undertaker spoke with me about some details, then gave us leave as he could do the rest himself without our assistance.
“We’ve done away with the bodies of royalty in the same way ever since we moved in the castle. I figured your father wouldn’t mind if we kept with tradition,” he said.
I smiled gently. “Sir, the day my father died, you had a marking on your hand. Is it still there?”
“No, Princess. Disappeared just a few hours ago with a horrible pang!” He answered enthusiastically.
We bowed and thanked each other, then Tobias and I left. He stayed close by my side, should I drop unconscious again, as we walked to my chamber. A theory was forming in my mind about the inscription on my and the undertaker’s hands, but I needed more time to flesh it out.
“What’s on your mind?” Tobias asked once we were behind my closed door.
“The undertaker’s writing on his hand seemed to have disappeared in the same way and at the same time as my own. I believe I know why, but I need more time to think about it; and I’ll need Nathan to confirm if he can.” I strode to the windows and glanced out of the curtains – it was still winter.
“I think you need some time to turn that wonderful mind of yours off,” Tobias suggested.
“When is Nathan expected back?” I asked.
“Originally tomorrow morning. I’m sure their party was slowed by the death, though,” he answered, making his way across the room to me.
“So we have some time.” I breathed and he began massaging my shoulders. “We should do some sword work. The exercise will help get our minds off this.” I turned to face him and smiled just a bit sadly. “I wish your first year as king was complete.”
“Why’s that?” His brow furrowed.
At his reaction, my brow furrowed as well. “What do you mean?”
“Why do you wish my first year as king was over?” He asked.
“Because we can’t get married until then.” I said the words slowly, trying to gauge his reaction as they came.
“Are you serious?” He held me at arm’s length.
“Yes, but it’s okay, right?” The expression in his eyes worried me.
“No, I mean, yes, but no!” He exclaimed. “No, it’s not okay!” He strode to the bed and sank onto it, holding his head in his hands. “There was going to be an announcement in the spring – your father and I arranged for us to be married by the end of the summer. I just, I just assumed that would still happen after enough time passed after your father’s funeral.”
“Well, I forgive you for not including me in this conversation.” As soon as the words left my mouth I regretted them. Now wasn’t the time. I crossed the room and knelt next to him. “I’m sorry. We’ll talk about that later. But, you can’t marry during your first year as king. It’s a law – no new king is to marry or have children in his first year of reign. It allows you to devote as much of yourself as possible to learning your new role.”
“Why was I never told about this?” He inhaled deeply.
“You said yourself – there was already a plan in place for you and I to be married. My father wasn’t near death; he probably thought we would be married and have several children before your successorship would become an important issue.” I moved to sit beside him on the bed.
He leaned over and put his head on my lap. I ran my fingers through his hair. “But I wanted to marry you sooner,” he pouted. A thought popped in my mind, but I didn’t speak it. Tobias noticed the subtle flash in my expression. “What? What was that?” When I shook my head, he began to think aloud. “Okay, whatever it is, you’re unwilling to share it. Which means you’re either ashamed of it or know it’s illegal or impractical.” Another glance at my expression. “I’m guessing the latter. So, it’s either illegal or impractical, and it has to do with our marriage.”
A look of giddy excitement passed over his face. He bolted from the bed and stepped to my wardrobe. Opening it, he felt along the top shelf until he came to a small jut in the wood. He pressed it, and a small compartment jumped from the side of the wardrobe. In it was a box, which he snatched from its secret hiding place and brought to me.
“Marry me, Kynder. Tonight, before Nathan returns.” In the box was a necklace of silver, tied in an intricate knot meant to hang in front of the heart of its wearer.
I shut the box and shushed him. “Do you have any idea what you’re doing?” I asked in a panicked whisper. “Are you trying to get us both killed?” I stood up and began pacing frantically. “It’s a serious law. You could lose your crown, and I could be banished. You and I both know that dishonored royalty never live long. Plus, this is absolutely horrific timing. My father was murdered yesterday morning; we haven’t even had the funeral yet!”
“But it wouldn’t be public until long after your father’s funeral, and we could change the law! Imagine it – the renewing atmosphere of a wedding after mourning the loss of a great king, and with that renewal would come the changing tides: you and I ruling, and learning to rule, together!” He started to say more, but a knock on the door interrupted him.
With the box in my hand, I walked quickly to the windows and pretended to stare out, hoping Tobias was needed and not me. I set the box on the windowsill and slid it behind one of the curtains. My right thumb itched, and I scratched it absentmindedly while trying to observe his interaction without notice.
“Yes?” He cracked the door, making it clear that the interruption was unwelcome.
“The undertaker needs the Princess,” a steely voice echoed coldly in my ears.
Tobias stiffened. Apparently, the voice had a similar effect on him. After a dull thump and a sharp inhale, whoever was at the door fell forward and was caught by Tobias. It was a young messenger girl, I recognized her from earlier that day in my father’s room – I remembered wondering why she, maybe eight or ten, was there.
“Kynder shut the door!” He commanded urgently, rushing to put the girl on my bed.
I did, and the sheets quickly turned bright red. My hands shook and I struggled to draw the bolt. I ran back to the bed. The girl writhed in pain, and blood poured from a wound on the side of her neck.
“What do I do?” I asked desperately.
“Hold this on her neck, but don’t choke her!” Tobias thrust a towel he had managed to grab from my counter into my hands. He ran to my desk and scrawled something on a spare parchment. Then he ran to the door and threw back the bolt. Flinging the door open, he yelled for a messenger and a doctor. Someone came and he gave them the parchment. “Take this to the undertaker, in the king’s chamber! Right now, before anything! Go!”
He turned around and his eyes searched the wall in line with the door. Where the wall met the floor, an arrow stuck. He tried to loose it from its hold, but pulled back, his hands blistered as if badly burnt. In a flash, he was next to me, his bloodied hands replacing mine.
“Write this down,” he said slowly. Tears built in his eyes as the girl struggled to breathe against the hot gore mounting in her throat. He pushed back a lock of loose hair that had fallen over her eye. “Hannah Brandyvine, nine years old. One mother to be notified and provided for, Mary Brandyvine. One brother.”
I scribbled his words with her blood still drying stickily on my hands. “What about the brother?” I asked.
“One brother,” he continued, “Tobias Brandyvine. Already provided for in the king’s service. Already notified.”
The girl’s breath rasped from her throat, and a cascade of black blood erupted from her mouth. Tobias shut her eyes with a shaking hand and pulled himself up next to her. He held her head against his chest and wept.
