Betrayal
The ballroom looked magnificent. There was not a single corner without demonstrating the importance and luxury that Lady Abba placed in all of this. Those present were amazed at everything that surrounded them, not only at the objects displayed, or the sumptuous feast that awaited them at that huge, elegant and long table filled with all kinds of exotic food and delicacies. No, it wasn’t just that, it was, the beautiful apparition that was sitting next to the king. Even though she was not originally from Mahala, the queen was something to admire, something unreachable. Seeing her was a privilege, and many understood why the king, despite the fact that the queen had not given him an heir, was still married to her, or alive.
Many resented them thinking that it was better to have chosen a wife from Mahala, but it was not like that, the king had to fall in love with the princess of Ruana. At first, the nobles agreed, marvelled at the beauty of this woman. But as time passed, the lack of an heir planted doubt in their hearts. Now they set their eyes on another foreigner. This alliance with King Soto would not only give them the long-awaited heir but would also benefit them financially. Placing Mahala with respect to Ruana, and many neighbouring kingdoms, in a privileged position. Badoro kingdom’s strategic position was unmatched. They could soon have access to the entire south, and not only by land but by sea.
Some of them, when they received Lady Abba’s invitation to attend this introductory banquet, were amazed but surprised at the same time, yet they gladly accepted. This is a great opportunity for them, to go into more detail about all the business opportunities that this arrangement would bring them. Mahala was a powerful city now, and with more allies, it would be invincible. No one here was anyone’s friend, but everyone was doing the best that their conscience dictated for the good of Mahala.
Two springs ago, almost three, it was rumoured through the corridors of the villages, why the nobles agreed without putting objection to King Alcott’s marriage to the Princess of Ruana. Queen Amberjill was an insurance that the people of Mahala could cash in should the kingdom of Ruana try to leverage their position and resources against Mahala, who at the time still did not amass the wealth that it has now, thanks to the many King Alcott’s conquests. Now was not necessary any more, queen Amberjill was dispensable.
Suddenly, all the attention of those present was stolen when the doors of the room opened, and the presenter announced the only person who was missing. “Lady Abba, second wife of King Alcott I.”
Everyone, without fail, turned their heads in the direction of the newcomer. And there she was, Lady Abba entered the room, exuding charm and tenderness. There was nothing better received at court than a woman with these characteristics. Nothing to do with the overwhelming presence of her majesty, the Queen.
There was only one person who noticed something strange among all those gathered. Discreetly, the queen observed Lady Abba’s outfit, and her surprise could not have been greater. Amberjill fisted her hand, clutching the fabric of her regal gown tightly, trying to contain the volcano that she was sure was going to explode at any moment.
The heat from the queen’s body left her, leaving an icy current running through her bowels. It wasn’t the pale blue dress that had been given to her as a present on one of her trips to Narumia. That same dress that symbolized the trade union between the two nations, was adorned with the most delicate and brilliant stones that the mines of Narumia could produce. Its fabric is exquisite, made by hand by the best artisans, taking a whole year to finish it. Or the silk veil embroidered with silver threads that covered Lady Abba’s head, a gift from her beloved father, the King of Ruana, in her sixteenth spring. No, it wasn’t that, it was the crown that held the silken veil that took away her ability to speak. The crown of her mother, the deceased queen of Ruana, and her most beloved possession in all the world. The symbol of their race, and the hope for their future.
That object adored by the queen was in the hands of Lady Abba, who wore it as her own, showing everyone how graceful and royal she was. Stealing its value and its origin.
Amberjill felt outraged, robbed, assaulted, and betrayed. Stabbed in the back.
Slowly, the queen turned her head to where King Alcott was, as if she wasn’t in the room, like a lost soul. The king’s startled eyes collided with her electric blues, vacant, without heat. He, noted the eyes of his beloved queen bleeding in pain, wanting to know why. So he turned his attention back to his wife, Lady Abba, absorbing every single thing, every detail, understanding the magnitude of what was happening.
Alcott knew that crown very well and knew of the pale blue gown Lady Abba wore, as well as the silk veil, a gift from King Lucian. He was present when the gift from the very hands of the King of Narumia was delivered in a ceremony to his queen. And how could he not remember the countless times that his queen had told him about this veil? But it was the crown, that crown.
King Alcott took the queen’s hand and squeezed tight, holding her back. If he didn’t do something, Amberjill could commit an atrocity before the eyes of those present without knowing why. No, the king would not allow it.
The queen’s entire body tensed, and all she could do was look into her king’s eyes, commanding her not to do anything. TREASON! The queen’s mind screamed incessantly, her husband and king had betrayed her in the most sacred and unimaginable way.
The queen’s convictions, and everything she had believed up to this point, had collapsed. Leaving desolation and destruction in its wake. Amberjill had died inside, murdered by the man who swore the whole world to her.
Her electric blue eyes, like weak crystals, crack before the very eyes of the king, extinguishing her bright. Alcott held his breath, and unable to do anything more than hold her hand tightly, he watched as his beloved’s world fell apart little by little, but he promised himself something, he swore revenge and their heads will be delivered at his beloved feet.
