**Arrival—Edgar Hopp**
After the guests had uttered their undying allegiance to the throne of Thorns and its king, the once crown prince now King Giovanny Aldrek Thorne, the Queen Dowager smiled shrewdly, stepping forward to capture the attention of all in the room.
"With all due respect your majesty," the woman said to her son, her face still holding the ugly sneer. Yet again, Ember noticed that the woman, her grandmother, hadn't bothered to even spare her a glance.
"No matter, the crown companion Thalara Thorne has been a great aide to you these past years. Even as the late king, my husband, laid on his dying bed, she still performed her duties as daughter-in-law to him unlike a certain someone." She added, the intended jab not going unnoticed.
Yet for some reason, the crown princess, now Queen, remained poised, her back to all in the room seemingly unreactive. Something about the rigidity of her pose told Ember that something was about to happen.
Probably something related to her.
After all, throughout their journey to Thalor, Ember more often than not kept thinking about what her exact role in this revenge game would be.
She wasn't quite convinced that her role would be just that of a daughter. And she had a feeling she was about to get her answer.
The dowager continued in a more furious tone, noticing that the woman she had been snidely insulting ever since she entered the room hardly paid her a heed.
"The crown companion has raised a fine son and fine daughters. She has been dignified in her role; kind, loving, graceful. In the last ten years in the absence of the new Queen, she was a model to all the women of Thalor…." She trailed with a dramatic pause, yet again glancing at the Queen for a reaction,
…but of course she didn't get any.
"It's for this reason," the dowager continued, her voice raised higher with each word and her sneer uglier, "that I propose she be titled as the second highest woman in Thalor—the position of High Consort."
The room stilled, all eyes on the king.
"I agree." He said sternly and without hesitation, his voice holding the taste of violence. He too seemed to wait for the Queen's objection, but her back remained turned to them and she didn't utter a word.
Thalara fell against the king dramatically. "Your majesty," she wailed, dabbing her handkerchief all over her face, "I only did my duty as your wife. You need not to go to such heights."
If care wasn't taken, Ember might just puke. Not to mention that she was starting to feel a bit uncomfortable standing there under the withering stares of all in the room and the uncommon silence of the Queen.
"Your majesty," the dowager continued, "now that it is settled that the crown companion will be titled High Consort, then you should address the matter of your Heir before all that is present."
"You're right," the king said almost immediately. "Thalor cannot go without an Heir." He finished, facing his subjects with a grim expression.
Ember seemed somewhat at a loss on what was happening given that the Queen was silent and not giving her any cues, but she had a feeling the entire dialogue was scripted to an extent.
The dowager rearranged herself. "I shall like to propose that your first son; the prince Cassian Thorne, be made the crown prince. He is of age, and fitting for the position."
"I shall stop you tighter there, mother-in-law." the Queen interjected coldly, turning to face the audience for the first time since her coronation.
Light that streamed in the room through the drawn blinds made her look ethereal. The crown on her head highlighting the blue of her eyes and lending her a lethal beauty.
Ember didn't know much about the subject of beauty. But she knew that the Queen's name once made it in the 'Velmoria's Fifty Name List of Rare Beauties'. The list, normally occupied by women from the vampire clan, saw the Queen's name at number seven.
At the time, it was popularly spoken of because she was the first human to have her name amongst the first ten beauties in the list since two centuries.
So it went without saying that combined with her ruthless authority, Queen Serpentine was the very image of prickly beauty. Alluring to the eyes, but hurtful to the touch. Which was why all in the room could only admire her from afar but otherwise didn't dare to approach.
The Queen stepped down from the low stairs, taking each step one at a time as her blue eyes held the room captive.
"And why exactly are you interrupting me?!" The dowager screamed furiously when it seemed that the Queen was taking her sweet time to explain herself.
"Seneschal," the Queen called without emotion, "you should educate the dowager on how to address her Queen. Court etiquette is not exactly her forte."
Every jaw in the room dropped including Ember's. The court seneschal scrambled forward like a mouse stuck between two wild cats, but he said nothing, instead used his eyes to implore on the dowager.
"Prince Cassian is by definition an illegitimate son. How can you have him seat on the throne of Thalor?" The Queen questioned harshly, her question directed at the dowager who was opening and closing her mouth like a fish in water. It was as if she was just realizing that as the wife of the deceased king, she no longer held solid power.
"But I do not have any legitimate son," the king gritted in defense of his mother, "going according to the rules of coronation, it is right to choose the eldest and next available son. That is Cassian."
Some of the nobility nodded at that while Thalara perked up like a predator sensing a prey. She tried to hide it, but there was a vicious joy etched in her eyes. Like her time of true victory was finally there.
"But you've a legitimate daughter." The Queen pronounced, stilling the chatter in the room.
Ember stood wide eyed as yet again, she became the center of attention.
"Surely the daughter of a queen holds more weight than the son of a… mistress?" The Queen finished, resting her eyes on Thalara whose features twisted into something unrecognisable.
"You've gone mad," the king muttered, eyebrows scrunched as if he was staring at a stranger, "a woman can never be a monarch. The rules forbid it."
"Then allow me to show you just how mad I am," the Queen continued with an enigmatic smile, "Seneschal, does the rules of coronation expressly forbid female monarchs in Thalor?"
"Ummm…" the Seneschal mumbled, breaking into a sweat, "your royal majesty…not exactly. But practice dictates that it is more honorable to pass the throne to a man. That practice has existed since the Great War two thousand years ago."
"Ahhh…." The Queen trailed, acting confused, "so you're saying since it has never been done, it automatically becomes a rule?"
"Ah… ummm, I mean…that is not what I meant your majesty. It's just that…." The Seneschal trailed, looking unto the king for help.
Meanwhile, the king's expression was pinched as he rested his gaze on the Queen.
"If that is why you're back, then I shall advise you to abandon that madness. A woman would never be…."
"Seneschal," the Queen interrupted coldly, "read out the exact wordings of rules 234 and 289 of the Book of Coronation."
The Seneschal scrambled away, reaching for a huge book that was almost equal in weight to his scrawny figures. He flipped through it frantically, the sound of the papers identical to the wild beating of Ember's heart.
After much fumbling, he began to read, voice trembling,
"Rule 234: In the absence of a rightful legitimate male heir, the right of succession may pass to the next of legitimate blood, provided said heir has received due preparation in diplomacy, warfare, and governance and has the backing of the current monarch."
The air stilled as everyone seemed to assimilate the words.
"Legitimate blood does not mean legitimacy of birth in this context," the king interrupted harshly, "going by this rule, Prince Cassian has every right to be named Crown Prince."
"True." Said the Queen with a smile, "but that also means Elara has every right to the throne as she is of legitimate blood."
"Not necessarily your majesty," the old duke Belmore interrupted, "the young princess is unfit in all regards. She is not of the best age as against her siblings, nor has she received any training. Let's not mention that she does not have the backing of her monarch."
On cue, Ember who was still reeling from shock glanced at the king and was met with a terrifying stare. She quickly looked away—it was as clear as day that the man would rather die than allow the absurdity the Queen suggested to ever come true.
The Queen smiled again. "That's just rule 234. Rule 289 is where the real fun is at."
The Seneschal became the center of attention anew as all eyes rested on him.
Clearing his throat, he held the huge book in shaky hands.
"Rule 289," he read, "Any legitimate child of the crown, born in or out of wedlock, must be presented to the court at birth to ensure public recognition and record of royal blood. Failure to comply invalidates their claim of legitimacy."
The air turned frigid with tension, but Thalara's thunderous expression was the peak of it all.
"This rule basically explains that the High Consort's first son and first daughter cannot have a valid claim of legitimacy." The Queen explained what was obvious to all in the room. "They were born out of the palace and weren't presented before the court until three years later, so of course prince Cassian has no right to the Throne before my legitimate daughter."
Thalara's lips parted as if to deny the fact that she was once a mistress, but no words came. Her face turned a blotchy red. One trembling hand gripped the hem of her gown—then let go. She swayed. And then she fell, the gasp escaping her throat louder than the thud of her collapse.