The Reluctant Queen

Prologue

Winter snow lined the planes and all the leaves of the forest trees that were once green. Marie hated the journey to Palais d'été. She never understood why the residence her family took in the winter was called a summer palace but she did appreciate being huddled next to her mother and father, with many layers of blankets covering them. No matter her age, that was her favourite part of the journey.

Unlike her elder brothers Crown Prince Charles and Prince Lucien, Marie had no memories of the entire family travelling to the summer palace together. Charles was the heir and Lucien was the spare. It was forbidden for either one of them to travel with the King. Lucien told her many stories of his travels to the palace. The King would stop the carriage and ride the planes with his sons. Being the youngest and an unexpected arrival, Marie had never seen that side of her father nor had she ever experienced what it was like for all their family to travel together. Marie always travelled ahead with the King and Queen, Prince Lucien followed days later and for the safety of the Crown Prince, it was never known when Charles travelled even to his little sister.

Marie looked out of the carriage window, seeking the unknown. Her heart was jittering with excitement. Earlier that year she had just turned sixteen and this time, she hoped her father would grant her permission to explore the land outside of the palace.

“You have a mischievous look about you,” the King uttered without looking up from one of his many letters that he had been reading since they left the palace.

Marie glanced at her mother. The Queen smiled warmly at her daughter. There was nothing that the Princess did not receive from either of her parents. “Votre Majesté?”

The King sniggered. “Your Majesty? Now I am truly terrified. My Queen, I think our daughter is buttering me up.”

“I would be inclined to agree with you, my King.”

Marie exhaled deeply. She was not one to shy away from confrontation and often when she asked, she received. However, it never left her mind that her parents were the reigning monarchs of a powerful kingdom. “I think I am old enough to be allowed to ride out of the palace without a chaperone.”

Eyes similar to his daughter’s became hard stones of aquamarine. Marie did not need to hear his response to know what he would say. “Out of the question!”

“But father, Lucien and Charles leave the palace without a chaperone. I am neither an heir nor a spare.”

An unhappy rumble escaped the Queen. “You will not call your brother a spare. That is cruel and unbecoming.”

Marie had not intended on wounding her brother. Prince Lucien was kind and her best friend in the entire world. He said it himself and it had become a joke between them. Upon hearing her mother’s berating, Marie was reminded that there was an ugly side to that word “spare”. Prince Lucien was marked the ‘forgotten Prince’—the dismissed one. And she had loathed every single person who deemed her brother irrelevant, including his wife. Prince Charles did not take the disregard of his younger brother lightly either.

“I apologise, Your Majesty, I did not mean anything by it. I just want a little freedom so that I can get to know the people.” Marie sighed. “I would like to meet someone and not have them bow to me.”

“You are a Princess of this land, they must bow down to you,” the King insisted.

“Father, would you not like to meet your countrymen?” Marie glanced at her mother and noted how silent and stiff the Queen became at her question.

“It is a dangerous world out there,” the King said. His tone changed to something light and fluffy as a smile came to his lips. Their conversation about her freedom was over. She only had one option left, she would sneak out of the palace and gladly suffer the consequences if caught. “I received a letter from King Maximilian.”

Marie groaned loudly. “I will not marry Prince Wilhelm and there is nothing you can do to change that.”

“Why ever not?” The King asked. “He is a brilliant young man and I hear he is good looking.”

Marie snorted. “According to whose standards?”

“At least he would not give you up for a title.”

Marie turned away. Last summer she had many mistakes like giving her heart away to a man who could be enticed away by a title. The sad part was that he hadn’t seen that it was a trap set by the King to lure him away and show her that the man of her choice was not deserving of her. Since the King had been proven right, he made use of it as a case for Crown Prince Wilhelm.

The King scowled. “Have I upset you, my darling? Find a man worthy and I will let you have him.”

“You mean that I should find a man to love and then you will send him away.”

“If he truly deserves you, he will not be driven away by any designs of men or me.” The King took his daughter’s hand. “I do love you, my darling. I cannot think of a man worthy of you but a king will do.”

“It is the title you seek and not my happiness. Does King Maximilian know that he would be getting a disobedient daughter-in-law?”

“Despite all of Maximilian’s ruthlessness, his son is gentle much to his chagrin. You could rule your own kingdom.”

“I imagine you think King Maximilian will merely stand aside as I rule his son and his kingdom.”

“All these troubles you put me through must be for something.”

Marie sighed. “I wish to know people and not to rule them.”

“My dear Giselle, you are still young—”

The carriage jolted forward and Marie flew from her seat and banged against the opposite wall. War cries rung outside of the carriage. Fire. It was everywhere. The sound of sword meeting sword filled the carriage. Arrows hit every corner that before Marie could move aside, another was where she had intended to go. Still the carriage did not stop spinning. Marie was up, down and to the side as the carriage rolled down a heel.

You will not scream. You will keep steady. Deep breaths. Just get through this. Marie thought to herself. She planted her feet on the ground and kept her hands at her side, holding on to a piece of wood. There was no knowing where it was up or down. Keep breathing, she told herself while blood dripped down her face into her chest. Her world spun over and over again, and she remained unsure if they were still tumbling down the hill or if it was her head that was spinning. Dust flew into the carriage, blinding her and filling her mouth.

A loud splash followed and things slowed down. Ice cold water filled the box that was once a carriage. Marie picked herself up from the floor and looked up at her father. Arrows pinned him by both of his shoulders and another straight through the heart. Tears ran down her cheeks as she gathered herself limb after every painful limb and pushed through the water to him.

“Father,” Marie said softly. Her voice was rough and barely a whisper. She cleared her throat, gathering his face in her hands. “Father, please wake up.”

The Queen groaned, slowly taking in her daughter, the water filling the carriage and her husband. On the side of Marie’s head a huge chunk of flesh was gone and with it her hair. “Princess, we need to get out of here.”

The water quickly rose up to their chest and moved up to their chins. Marie’s eyes never left her father’s. She took a deep breath. “I’ll help you out and then I will help father.”

They didn’t have very long to go before the water consumed them. The water was like knives cutting through every inch of Marie’s skin. The Queen took her daughter’s hands in her own. “Marie, leave us and save yourself.”

“No, Ma. I won’t do that,” Marie said with tears in her eyes.

“There is no time. Your father had many enemies, and with him gone, they may spare you.”

“No!” Marie took a deep breath, flinging her mother’s arm over her shoulder. There was no time for discussions or giving up. Marie lowered herself into the dark waters, there was no guiding light to direct her where was up or down. In an endless abyss, she bravely kicked upwards, afraid that her father would be lost forever. Keeping a steady pace, Marie and the Queen reached the surface on the twentieth kick.

From east to west, there was nothing but black water. Marie turned her head northward and was grateful that the treeline was a swimmable distance.

“You should leave us here,” the Queen uttered. “Your father knew what was coming to him. Save yourself, you stubborn girl!”

Marie said nothing and dragged her mother to the shore— exactly thirty strides from where she had surfaced. Her mother’s words washed over her and yet she did not say a single thing as she thought of returning to her father. Putting the Queen down, Marie looked back at the water. The Queen grabbed her hand and brought her to a standstill.

There was no feeling left in Marie and only duty. Her father was not a beloved King, but he was still her father.

“He is gone, Princess.”

“I can still save him. I can—” Marie placed a hand over her mother’s and freed herself. She looked around the foliage that surrounded them. The trees hid them from the top. “You should be safe here. I’ll be back.”

“Marie!”

Pushing forward, Marie imagined the weight of her mother on her shoulders as she retraced her steps to find her father under the darkness of the night. Her mind was unusually empty. Even as her heavy limbs almost dragged her down, she kept pushing until she reached the bottom of the river. She felt her way through the river bed until she reached the wooden box. Her hands searched for him, knowing that she was on her last breath. She flipped around, moving her hands against the walls until she found her father’s strong shoulders. Her hands clasped around the arrow which had struck him and yanked. The King, nor the arrow, did not budge.

Tears threatened to fall as she thought about all the effort that she had put in to remember how far she had to swim on the surface and how far to come down. Marie held on tight to the arrow and pushed her legs against the carriage. The arrow snapped in her fingers but the King remained. She groaned loudly and retreated holding on to her last breath. Songs of guilt sang in her head— if her father had been alive when Marie chose to save her mother, he wouldn’t be now. You can’t even hold your breath long enough. Marie was only on the surface long enough to take a breath and then she was back down.

Over and over again, the Princess tried to free her father from the carriage and failed. On each return, she swam faster, knowing that he was down there. After the sixth unsuccessful try, Marie slapped the water and cried bitterly. Why can’t you do anything right? All her life she had been the sheltered one— protected by her mother and brothers, and even her father refused to see her suffer. Now, in his time of need, she couldn’t protect him.

For a minute, Marie let herself cry and once that minute was over, she took a deep breath, knowing that she couldn’t remain in that water for much longer. They would both die here and her mother too on the shore, if Marie didn’t return to her. Like she had done many times, Marie felt her way into the carriage. This time she searched the floor for any debris. There were soft materials like pieces of cloth, chunks of wood that came off the carriage and slimy things that got caught in her fingers as she searched. Marie tossed them aside one by one. Pain shot through her foot as she stumbled against something rigid. Marie ignored the pain like she had so many times that evening but her mind settled on the fact that it hadn’t broken at her weight. She bent down and picked it up— a rock bigger than the palm of her hands.

Filled with determination, Marie went to her father and brought him against her body as far as he would go. With her two hands, she hit the lodged arrow with the piece of rock that she had found. The King’s weight fell on her as he was released from one side. Marie brought her free hand around his waist and carried his limb body. She moved across and worked on the other arrow, knowing very well that her lungs burnt and soon she would have to return to the surface. There was no room left for a return, Marie was not sure that she could make it back down again. She breathed out steadily until the arrow snapped.

Marie had never dreamed that the day would come where she would carry her father. While on his throne, he was the man most feared by others. She never imagined that he would be so lowered. Her mother had always said that death did not distinguish man from king.

The King was dead. No matter how many times that she had tried to hope and tell herself otherwise, her father was gone. Marie carried his heavy weight up to the surface and did not stop until she was out of the water. To her left, she heard her mother call out her name— searching. Just for a moment, Marie could not bring herself to answer.

“What do we have here?” A man looked over her, steel pressed against the base of her neck. “You are very brave, Princess. Your energy is wasted on the dead King.”

Marie’s back snapped straight. Despite having no strength left, exhausted and cold, she rose to her feet and looked the man who had killed her father dead in the eye.

Her eyes, a blue flame, glared at one of the rebels. Her father hadn’t wanted her to know about the troubles that their kingdom had but Marie had stolen many forbidden stories from Lucien’s lips from the moment she learnt to talk. She had imagined villains when she thought of the devils but the man before her was in plain clothes that had probably seen better days, his body muscular from doing hard labour and nothing was remarkable about his face. The ladies of court had made rebels to be these ugly beasts. He was an ordinary man who could be killed. Yet he had her father and nearly killed her.

“This one looks like she could kill you,” one of the three approaching comrades said, amused by something. “She has more balls than that brother of hers.”

“I’ll meet him soon enough,” the man responded with an air of both arrogance and simplicity.

“Leave my daughter be,” the Queen uttered, rushing over. She clasped Marie by the shoulders and pulled back. “You are so cold,” her mother said to her, before pushing Marie behind her back. “She is not her father or her brother.”

“Your family is rotten to the core.”

The Queen fell to her knees, removing the necklace around her neck and her bracelets. “Take it all and there will be more, but she has to live.”

The man sniggered. “You do not tell me who gets to live or dies.”

“Do you think my son will care to distinguish between those who harmed us today and innocents? My son was more like his father than I care to admit. Many innocents will burn for the crimes of the few.”

“And he will die just like his father.”

Marie balled her fists, her gaze growing fiercer by the minute. That intrigued the man who could end her life at any second. The man tipped her chin upwards with his sword, grazing her skin.

“Your father killed innocents. He let them starve while filling the pockets of his officials. Do you think I have sorrow for the man who has been responsible for the deaths of many? There are many generations dying because of him—children with no parents, nowhere to go when they are hungry or sick. I bet you didn’t know that while you are hidden away in your warm castles, wearing your pretty dresses and crown jewels.”

Marie looked down at the corpse of her father. That, she had known. He had been a good father but a lot could be said of him as a ruler. It hurt that she couldn’t defend him at that moment. The Queen had asked the King to change his stance on many policies and while Marie was too young to understand the nuances of politics, her father usually went against everything that Marie thought was logical.

“Do not be so small minded!” The Queen said, pulling Marie back from him. “My son can be moulded and who else than the person he loves the most. If my daughter dies, this country that you love and are trying to protect, will burn to ashes.”

The man took in her words for a moment. “Tie them up and throw him back into the river.”

Marie sneered. “I hope you burn in hell.”

“Giselle!” The Queen cautioned. It was a miracle that Marie was standing. She had a deep gash on the right side of her head, with cuts all over her body. Her skin was ghostly white and lips a pale purple. “Please, have a care and give me something to shield her from the elements.”

The man pulled back his sword and put it away. He rolled his eyes, removed his jacket and then handed it to the Queen. “You look like you’ll get to hell before me. Say hello to your father when you see him.”

Marie roared, inching forward. The man did not bark or move backwards. The Queen grabbed her daughter swiftly and wrapped her with the jacket. “Enough Giselle, there’s been enough death today.”

Silent tears ran down Marie’s cheeks. She said nothing else as a group of men came over and wrapped her father in a white cloth, tied him around with a rope and attached it to a rock. Without a care nor a prayer, they tossed him away.

“Now, we depart.”

***

The rebels gathered in the middle of the woods. There was no telling which direction they had come from. At first Marie had tried to keep up with the twists and turns, but she didn’t know the terrain as they did. The torch bearers were always too far away to discern the path as though by design. After a while Marie had given up, her head throbbed and vision was blurry. There was little strength left in her and she used it all to walk. When they finally stopped and lit a fire, Marie was grateful, though she would never admit it.

Her legs and hands were tied, and the same was done to the Queen. After that, they were left alone. Not that they weren’t a spectacle that each member of the group stared at as they passed by.

“Lie down,” the Queen offered. “Perhaps, they have a doctor and I might convince them to take a look at you.”

“I am fine,” Marie weakly spoke. The adrenaline from the incident was wearing off, leaving her entire right side aching. “How can you lower yourself to them?”

The Queen gently lay Marie on the wet grass and squeezed beside her. There were no blankets or medicine coming. The most that she could do as a mother was offer the warmth of her body.

“I know you are angry. I loved him too but your father was no saint.” The Queen ran a soothing hand over Marie’s arm. Marie jerked in pain and her mother stopped. “You must learn to forgive this act of rebellion. You must— for the good of our kingdom.”

“Mother, we are hostages. You can’t think that we will live through this?”

“You will live through this, Giselle. You have to! The monarchy has to reach out to the poor before it turns them to desperate men. They too are only trying to survive.” The Queen sighed. “I did all I could as Queen. You must save our family.”

“How can I? Father did not listen to you. What makes you say that Charles will listen to me?”

“We must never tell your brothers what happened today. You must protect your brother from himself.”

“I want them to suffer.”

The Queen sighed. “They are already suffering. Your father was the cause of today as much as those men. We have to be better or the innocent will suffer the consequences of our disdain. We don’t have to discuss it all right at this minute, rest for a little while.”

“Just a little while,” Marie said and closed her eyes.

It didn’t take long before the leader came to find them. The Queen pushed herself away from her daughter. She placed a finger on her lips. The man looked down at Marie and offered the Queen a hand. He pulled her up to her feet, grabbed a knife from his belt and cut her hands loose. “It’s not as though you will be able to run in your condition.”

“You must have thought about what I had to say.”

“I may have considered it. Do you think I am so foolish not to realise that any promises that you make will be forgotten once you return to your golden palace?”

Even in matted golden hair and a tattered gown, the Queen was gracious. “I will give you my daughter.”

The man’s brow rose. “You are bluffing.”

“Not physically,” the Queen corrected. “Leaving her here would not be appropriate or much help to you. The church has been helping you through these years. I have helped where I could when my husband was not looking but I see that was not enough. She will join the church for the rest of life and our family will be devoted to helping the needy through her.”

“I will not place the lives of the people in the hands of a child. Make your own promises.”

The Queen paused for a moment, her hand grazing her wet lower back. “I am gravely injured. I hope you will let us go home before it’s too late. She is a child who cares for others. I can promise you that I would like to protect all of my family and if I have to sacrifice my daughter to protect my sons, I will do it. She, too, will make the sacrifice. My daughter will never forget the cost of our freedom.”

“It’s your daughter’s life or your whole family, never forget that.”