Swordpoint Diplomacy 26

CHAPTER 26

“Absolutely not,” Father breathed in revulsion. He took an involuntary step back. He looked at Marcel the way that Etienne looked at horseshit on his favorite embroidered blue velvet shoe. “You have taken leave of your senses.”

“Of course,” Rose agreed, because this actually was a wild series of decisions she was committing to. “Nonetheless.” She smiled at him, a thin challenge.

Marcel was spectacularly uncomfortable in the conversation, not daring to look at her for a moment. She knew it even with his face hidden. His muscles were so tense that she could feel it where she touched his arm. “Darling,” she said, “you should take that off.”

Father flinched.

“Ah- Of course, excuse my rudeness.” Marcel ducked his head slightly as he pulled off the helmet to make a proper introduction. He didn’t seem to know that the motion had disheveled his hair.

The look on Father’s face had gone beyond horror to despair. His eyes were wide, and his mouth slightly open.

“It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance,” Marcel lied honestly. He gave Father an appropriate little incline of the neck that could barely be called a bow. “Thank you for your hospitality.”

Rose didn’t laugh, but it was a close thing. It was technically the correct thing to do, as Marcel had been eating from the King’s food stores and in his temporary home.

It took a moment for her Father to collect himself and his dignity. “I do not offer you hospitality,” he said in his coldest tones. He would have looked down on Marcel if the other man wasn’t actually a bit taller. Father settled for tilting his face slightly up so that he could look down his nose regardless. “The engagement was never a real possibility and you could not possibly deserve any of my children, much less my heir.”

Rose felt an eyebrow raise. “The engagement is very real,” she pointed out spitefully. “No one dissolved it. It would be extremely impolite of me to introduce you to my fiance in chains.”

“But you did have him in chains,” Father spat, seeming to gain some clarity from that. He leveled a furious look on her that implied they would have words when they were alone. “You know very well that I will not allow this farce.”

“You’d have to get a message to his parents before we got to a chapel,” Rose challenged. It wouldn’t be that simple- they needed witnesses, but still, Father didn’t have all the power here.  She narrowed her eyes at him and threw all her cards on the table. “This war is stupid, Father, and I will end it.”

As soon as the words were out, Rose knew they were a terrible mistake.

That was the phrase that changed things. She felt a sick twist in her stomach as his expression changed from anger and disgust to a hateful sort of active disregard.

The horrible thing was that she recognized the expression with which he looked at her. She’d seen it before. That was how he looked at Etienne. This look meant that he had judged her and found her wanting.

“You will, will you,” he said quietly.

He didn’t have to say anything for Rose to know that there was no going back and there was no chance of her remaining Crown Princess. She’d just lost any worth she had to him. She held her head high through the sudden wild terror. Why had she said that? Why had she criticized him?

‘I need to leave the country. If... If Marcel backs out, I don’t have somewhere else to go.’

She swallowed.

The realization that at this moment Marcel was her protector as much as she was his… It was the worst moment of her life.

‘He probably doesn’t know. He doesn’t know my Father well.’

They had to get out of this situation.

Of fucking course that was when Celestin finally arrived. A horn blew in the distance.

Father took a step back, impatience and frustration turning his handsome features to a sneer. He didn’t say anything to her- she was beneath his conversation.

Rose could feel Marcel vibrating with tension, but he didn’t break the silence.

She licked her lips and then dared a glance to confirm that her Father didn't see it. He wasn't looking at her at all. His brow was furrowed and he glared down the embankment at Celestin's distant figure, unable to move as a group past the supply train.

Celestin dismounted from his horse and raised a hand in greeting to one of the officers. Then she could see his face turn up to look at them. He said something to his Captain and started walking up the hill at a fast pace.

Rose imagined what they looked like from a distance. Two golden heads shining, dressed in reds and blue, with gleaming silver metal.

They would look united. Celestin would have no idea that she'd defied her King- for the last time, she was still the golden child, the perfect heir.

She drew in a ragged breath. She felt Marcel turn to look at her. Father didn't.

The air seemed to sway around her. Maybe she was hallucinating. Maybe it was just the heat. No one else seemed to notice the effect.

'Why am I waiting?'

She couldn't move her feet. They might as well have been stones.

'Father is going to have Celestin arrest us. And then I'm going to be court-martialed. I… I should fight, or run. I should do something. Marcel has no idea how bad the situation is. He's counting on me.'

But it was hopeless. Father was keeping this quiet for now but if she ran, he'd have someone shoot. The situation was bad enough. She couldn't add the indignity of an unsuccessful escape attempt as well.

Rose held her head that little bit higher. She'd lost. But she was still a princess. She wasn't going to run like a horse thief.

Finally, the general crested the hill. There was a nearly imperceptible pause in his step when he saw their faces. The horror in his eyes was enough to prove that he recognized Marcel.

Rose nearly felt like smiling, even though the situation was not very funny. She nodded at her old teacher, feeling grim and tired beyond her years.

“Good afternoon,” Marcel said, apparently incapable of maintaining a silence.

Celestin opened his mouth to respond but was cut off.

“General, were you aware of this?” Father’s tone was silkily dangerous. He made a dismissive gesture at her and Marcel. “It’s hard to believe that anyone could bring an enemy Prince unnoticed into camp without help.”

Celestin gave Rose a wide-eyed look as if he’d never seen her before in his life.

She knew why. It was because no one had ever expected her to have an independent opinion, much less one that conflicted with her Father’s. She was barely her own person, just an extension of his will. And now she was nothing and no one.

Celestin looked back at her Father. “No, your majesty,” he ground out. “I must regretfully admit I failed to notice this situation developing.”

“How disappointing,” Father said quietly. At that tone, Rose knew that at least one head was going to roll for this aside from her own. “Who, then? Prince Etienne would go along with any suggestion, but I doubt he could maneuver this. Is it Harrod?”

Rose was caught between wanting to defend Etienne’s competency and avoid getting him into trouble with her. Not… Not that Father was going to listen to a word she had to say. He was done with her.

‘If I don’t do something… I’m about to be arrested,’ she realized faintly. ‘He’s not going to talk to me. There will be no negotiation. He’s done with me.’

Even as she recognized what was in motion, Rose was stunned by how suddenly she had lost the position she’d had all her life. Exactly when she was in the most danger she’d been in for all her life, she was immobilized and disoriented by shock.

“General, kill this man,” Father said. He didn’t even bother to look at her. “And then arrest the other.”

Rose flinched.

Celestin hesitated. “Your Majesty-”

“Do you not understand me?” Father said. He didn’t raise his voice.

Rose couldn’t breathe. Her gaze went to Celestin’s hand. It should go to his sword. Father’s order was absurd, an international crime, and counter to all good sense, but it was the King’s order. It must be done.

Celestin didn’t move.

She knew what that meant in the same second that her Father did. His expression somehow went colder.

Rose moved on instinct to put herself between her Father and Marcel. If Celestin was with her, then that changed the calculation. Father was perfectly capable of acting on his own.

Father tore his eyes off of Celestin to really, truly look at her. Her audacity to step between him and Marcel was the last straw, the final bit of impudence.

She took one breath in.

Father pulled his sword out.

At the sound, Marcel startled and put his hands on her waist in an attempt to shove her to the side. She didn’t let him dislodge her.

The sword went to the side, back, and then forward. It was on a path to go through Rose’s ribcage and into Marcel’s stomach behind her. She made a fist of her left hand and used the back of it to slap the blade to the outside, leaving his guard totally open and torso undefended. The follow-up was a reflex. Her right fist connected with the King’s jaw with a sharp crack.

He fell backward with a small, surprised sound. He let go of the sword as he fell. She belatedly recognized the feeling of bone breaking under her hand and shook the hand to dislodge the feeling. She stared. Someone shouted from the bottom of the hill where soldiers were milling around.

It was… easy. Automatic. It was unbelievable that he hadn’t blocked her, he hadn’t done something. Why hadn't he blocked or moved?

Her whole body thrummed with tension.

‘I just hit Fa- I just hit the King.’

She stole a wild look at Celestin, half expecting that now he was going to try to kill her. He didn’t make a move to. And Father- he didn’t move either.

Rose felt her whole body shudder. A horrible groaning sound came out of her throat.

Her old teacher was impassive, even as someone shouted in the distance. Celestin kept eye contact with her as he knelt by Father’s head. His hand didn’t shake as he carefully touched the King’s face and called his title. There was no response, only a wide-eyed stare up at the sky.

It was with a delay that Rose realized that Father wasn’t moving. He wasn’t moving he wasn’t moving he-

Marcel reached out and put a steadying hand on her back. It was warm and real and Rose pressed back into it. She took a shaky inhalation.

Celestin looked up and made eye contact with her. He opened his mouth, then closed it. He cleared his throat before he managed to say, “The King is dead.”

There was a wail. It was coming from her. Rose hit the ground on her knees. She couldn’t stand anymore. Her legs wouldn’t support her.

“Princess…”

She didn’t have the capacity to respond to Marcel. Rose crawled the remaining distance between her and her Father to run her hands over her face. His... his jaw was shattered. She’d shattered his jaw and sent bone fragments into his head.

'Why is he so fragile? That's my Dad.'

Rose threw up. It was a real effort to lurch far enough away to keep it off her Father’s body. She heaved and she heaved until there was nothing left in her stomach.

She was shuddering by the time she realized that there was shouting and jostling. Father’s bodyguards. They’d run over, and so had some of the officers from Rose’s travel group. Celestin was saying something in calming tones and Marcel had both of his hands up while someone pointed a sword at his throat. There was an air of panic. Someone else was kneeling by the body of the King, a hand hovering above his mouth in a vain check for breath.

If she didn’t say something, there was going to be a fight.

“Did you see what happened?” Rose interrupted. The truth would work in her favor.

Everyone fell silent.

She stood. Her legs felt like they’d been filled with needles, but she stood. Rose looked around and made eye contact with the panicked onlookers, one by one. “What did you see?” She asked. It was a wonder that her tone was so calm.

There was a moment of silence before anyone was brave enough to speak. It was the officer who had been counting grain. “I saw- the King raised his sword, as if to strike the princess.” He glanced around in a fit of nerves. “It seemed.”

“I saw that too,” said another. The royal bodyguards were conspicuously silent. Rose made eye contact with one of them and couldn’t make out anything in her expression. They knew their business too well to comment on what royalty did until they knew which way the wind was blowing.

Rose nodded. “He did,” she said. The accusation hung in the air. It was ridiculous. Everyone knew that she was the King’s favorite. Had he told anyone that she’d committed treason? …Would it matter if he had? If he hadn’t made any punishment official yet, then it probably didn’t matter.

The first officer spoke again. “Is self defense…” the question trailed off. He looked as though he very much wished that he had not spoken.

That was a very good question. Was self defense an acceptable reason to kill the King? For most people, no. But for his heir? Perhaps it was.

The air was too heavy to breathe all of a sudden. Rose swallowed. “I did not pull a weapon on my King,” she said. It was too factual to be a defense. No one could deny that she hadn’t used any of the weapons on her person. “I had no intention of hurting him.”

Everyone stood in shocked silence. The situation was settling in, and now that it seemed there was no more fight, no one knew what to do.

“It is as the Princess says,” Celestin said, and this time, people deferred to him. They wanted things to be fine, and in the normal course of events, the general was someone to listen to. “I do not know why the King drew his sword. Perhaps it was intended as a training exercise.”

He was lying. Rose looked at him but he avoided her eyes.

“This is… a tragedy.” The old general looked at the body of the King. His gaze and his voice became distant. “If… In another situation, if one of my officers used their sword on a soldier and was killed by a punch in return, I would consider it an unfortunate accident and a reasonable reaction.”

“A training accident,” one of the royal bodyguards said. She took a step forward. “This was a tragedy and an accident. The king would never attempt kinslaying.”

‘Oh, yes he would. He’d kill his sister and his son. He meant to kill me.’

Rose had to bite down a hysterical laugh. Blood seeped into her mouth.

There was a chorus of ayes, acknowledging the story. They wanted it to be true. It was better for this to have been an accident.

“The King is dead,” Celestin repeated. She didn’t know why until he looked at her and knelt. “Long live the Queen.”