Chapter 109:
Usurper
“The coronation ceremony will take place momentarily, if you all could please follow us to the throne room.” The king’s butler announced, bowing his head low as he announced aloud to the gathered audience in the ballroom. Guests were quickly ushered into the throne room soon after, allowing the royal family enough time to recover the king and prepare for the coronation soon after.
The king’s disappearance during the reception had been noted, but it was cleverly disguised as a diplomatic matter that the king was unable to avoid, allowing him to miss the first event with less scrutiny. There were still many, however, that believed the king was too ill to attend, keeping their thoughts quietly to themselves as they stared at the newly-crafted crown for Clarence’s coronation, watching as the King was led inside with the Queen, their arms linked like young lovers. King Godfreed walked with his head high, walking next to his wife, Queen Racliffe, with slow, steady steps, his expression beaming with joy as he stepped forward, his gait elegantly paced.
Chairs had been prepared on either side of the long carpet, separating the numerous lined chairs like parting waves. The simple chairs were embellished with royal blue fabric, Clarence’s color in the Yursinean royal family. The chairs started near the throne platform, housing the royal family and their direct relatives first, before other high-standing nobles were seated. Charlotte, having now gained the position of the future Yursinean queen, would now be sat in the princess’s chair next to the queen, who had temporarily occupied the queen’s chair as she waited for Clarence to come, having already been led by the king.
Quietly, like chattering birds, the attendees spoke in breathless whispers, gossip passing between them like the plague.
“How beautiful. You can’t help but envy Princess Charlotte. She’s such a lucky woman.”
“The Yursear Kingdom will only strengthen itself now with Prince Clarence in power.”
As the voices gradually began to fade, the doors to the throne room had opened. Standing side by side was Princess Charlotte and Prince Clarence, holding hands as the newlywed pair walked together, their gazes forward as they walked with their heads high and their backs straight, the eyes of the world fixed on their very figures.
The prince walked down the aisle of red carpet without trepidation, his every step carrying the weight of the world under his soles as he stepped forward, his leather shoes muffled by the thickness of the carpet under his feet. His head was held high, his blue eyes fixated at the top of the short stairwell as if enamored, unable to take his eyes away from the crown that rested on the platform, waiting to be placed atop his head, waiting for him to claim it as his rightful owner. Charlotte walked to the side, taking the princess’s chair as her own as she gently sat down, her train resting on the side of her chair.
The room was silent, and the nobles and foreign dignitaries watched with bated breath, feeling the tenseness in the air as the young prince traveled to the end of the carpeted aisle, taking his first step up the stairs. He stepped once, twice, three times, reaching the top of the throne platform in neatly equal strides. His face was brightened by a smile as the crown was within arms reach, bringing a sense of relief to his tightening chest as he stared forward, staring towards the queen with an expectant gaze.
Queen Racliffe stood to meet her son at the center of the throne platform. The crown rested on a shortened pillar, its golden surface resting on a blue silk pillow with embroidered gold, simplistic and rich. The King had already been standing, standing in front of the short crown pillar, his eyes full of warmth as he watched his eldest son walk down the aisle.
Clarence stepped forward, each step taking him closer and closer to the crown on the cushioned pillar, his eyes fixated on the gleaming item like a statue. As he finished his ascent up the short stairwell, Charlotte stepped away and walked towards the princess’s throne chair, slowly seating herself as she smiled towards her young husband, her eyes sparkling.
Once the prince stood in front of the crown pillar, the king’s face was full of a warm smile as he spoke to the crowd of nobles and other guests. “Welcome, all. Today, the past generation and the new generation will change, bringing forth a peaceful change of power.” His words carried throughout the room as he spoke. “My eldest son, Clarence, will now take the king’s crown, taking his position as rightful heir to the Yursinean throne.” There were cheers from the crowd, the sound of clapping erupting in the throne room following the king’s words.
Hearing his father’s words, Clarence spoke some of his own. “I have been training since I was born, studying to earn the right to inherit the Yursinean throne. As a loyal Yursinean noble, I will only do what is good for our kingdom.”
The crowd clapped, cheering aloud to Clarence’s declaration.
Just as the coronation ceremony had begun, Clarence stood under the light of the throne with his head bowed to accept the king’s crown. The queen stood behind the king as King Godfreed held the crown in his hands, the rim of the golden item warmed in his wrinkled palms, the sapphire jewels adorning the crown with a sparkling deep blue hue. As the rim of the crown brushed against the hairs resting on the top of Clarence’s head, there was a shout from the crowd, bringing the entire ceremony to a halt before the crown could be placed.
There was the sound of a chair being pushed back, screeching against the stone flooring with a loud scratching sound as a tall man stood up, looking towards the prince with an accusing glare.
“Clarence cannot take the throne!” A tall man strode forward, his hair dark black, braided to the side of his head, like the darkness of the night, his golden eyes burning as they glanced at the crown in the queen’s hands. “He’s not what you think he is, he is-” The queen’s face paled white, and the king’s hands grasping the crown froze as it was suspended only inches away from Clarence’s head, only inches away from indicating his new role.
Malcolm opened his mouth after a short pause and finished, “He’s not human, he’s an elf!”
The crowd gasped, some in attendance freezing in place as they stared at the eldest Yursinean prince with expressions of fear, rage, and contempt and trepidation. The prince’s cousin, Duke Malcolm Godfreed, had developed a strong relationship with the nobles within the kingdom, leading some of the nobles to have doubts towards Clarence, rather than doubt the duke’s words outright.
“How dare you!” The queen’s face paled, leading her cheeks to flush an unnatural shade of red, “Crafting such a lie, delaying the coronation, it’s simply treasonous!”
“A lie, you say?” Malcolm smiled, “How could Prince Clarence’s father be the king, when he was born from an elf!”
We’re sorry for MTLers or people who like using reading mode, but our translations keep getting stolen by aggregators so we’re going to bring back the copy protection. If you need to MTL please retype the gibberish parts.
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“Leofrick!” Queen Racliffe called aloud, kneeling down as she wrapped her arms around her husband, who had already collapsed to the ground, clutching his chest as he panted aloud, sweat pouring from his brow. “Call the palace physician, immediately!”
Nervous whispers filled the venue like a plague. The physician, having been in attendance, was quick to arrive at the king’s side, his medical bag prepared by a servant. After examining the king, he shook his head and said, “Take him to his chambers. I will give him care there.” His wrinkled eyes narrowed, his fingers pulling in as he looked at the king’s clammy pallor. “Now, quickly.” The physician turned to the king’s guards stationed nearby.
The guards were at the king’s side, assisting him as he was taken out of the hall through a small door in the back of the room, hiding him away from the view of the nervous audience. The air in the room had stilled, and there was no way for the king to refute the accusations made by Duke Malcolm. The king’s reaction could only lead to more doubt.
After the king’s hasty departure, there was nothing holding the event together, leading to all formalities and ceremony to shatter in the face of doubt, falling victim to the accusation of Prince Clarence being an elf.
“The ceremony can’t continue like this. We should investigate Prince Clarence.” Malcolm began, as if addressing the crowd. “We cannot allow an elf to take over our kingdom.”
“The king would never stand for this, and neither shall I! Prince Clarence is the rightful heir to the throne.” Queen Racliffe’s face was shrouded in disgust, “Only a scheming traitor would try to take the throne like this, Malcolm.” She refused to refer to Malcolm by his title, her stare cold as ice.
“Do you have any proof he is truly the king’s heir?” Malcolm’s every word was poking and prodding a sensitive wound, stabbing the queen with the sharpness in his speech. “The king would never accept a man who was not his own to take the throne, and neither would I.” His eyes narrowed, his smile mocking. “We cannot make assumptions without proof, of course.”
Queen Racliffe stepped forward, barely able to contain her rage, “This is no time to be playing games!”
Willis, sitting in the front row, stood up and strode forward, stepping forward with steady steps as he approached the crown platform, his eyes falling on the glistening gold object with a passing glance as he turned to the pair and said, “Until we are able to prove the prince’s origins, it would be best to place the prince in the dungeon. He could be a traitorous elf, after all. What if he were to harm one of us after being discovered?”
“You dare!” Clarence hissed under his words, his eyes narrowing dangerously, “How could I ever be such a disgusting, vile creature as an elf? You jest, Sir Willis!”
“The king is in no condition to make that decision.” Sir Willis frowned, “As the advisor to the king, I can only protect our kingdom in his place. Until proof is brought forward that you are indeed a human being, you could only be an elven spawn.”
The attending Yursinean nobles had come to know the elves as vicious, murderous savages, living in the mountains and the forests like feral animals, hunting humans to consume their flesh and blood much like tonics. Even if there was no truth behind the accusation, the fear of being an elf was enough to make many of the nobles fearful, unable to trust the prince until proof of his innocence was brought forward.
Shouts of rage and fear erupted from the audience, allowing no room for Queen Racliffe to defend herself or her son. Even Clarence’s younger siblings, Julian and Eloise, wanted to speak up for their brother, but their nanny quickly silenced them, fear in her eyes.
“Don’t speak, now’s not the time.” Her eyes were red, full of tears.
Charlotte watched in horror, her dreams of a solid position of power falling apart before her very eyes. She stared at Queen Racliffe, and then towards Clarence, feeling fear of the possibility of her own husband being an elf. How could he be? I-I would have known. Charlotte fell silent, staring forward with an expression of loss.
Stepping up the stairs, Malcolm carefully picked up the crown on the stair with both hands, holding it up to his chest as he wiped off the dirt that had marred the crown as it fell from the king’s hands, now held in Malcolm’s own.
“There is an elf in the dungeon already, isn’t there?” Malcolm said quietly to the guards, a smile lining his lips. “Place him in that cell. They must have colluded together, so keep a close eye on their cell.” He paused before he added a warning. “Don’t let them escape.” He lifted his hand and touched Beau’s armored shoulder with a heavy pat, causing the captain’s shoulder to fall cold as he stared at the young duke, who stared at the crown resting in his hands with greed.
“You will not take away my son!” Queen Racliffe shouted, stepping forward in front of Clarence as she stretched her arm out, defending him. “You will have to kill me first!”
“Queen Racliffe, it would be best for you to stay in your quarters until this affair is resolved.” Sir Willis spoke, his eyes moving towards the queen’s servants, as if commanding them to lead her away. “Guards, please lead the queen and her servants to her quarters. The physician will assist the king.”
Two guards stepped forward, intimidating the queen’s servants into silence as the queen looked towards the guards and then to Willis with a sneer, “I will not lie down as you try to destroy our kingdom, Willis.” Her eyes burned blue as the morning sky, fixed on Willis as she spoke in a voice much unlike her own, cursing the king’s closest advisor. “Mark my words, the power you seek will follow you to the grave.”
Willis smiled, “I will only do what’s best for the kingdom.”
There was nothing else the queen could do, even in her position as queen. She wordlessly was led away, staring at her eldest son as she whispered quietly to him, “Do not worry, Clare. You will always be my son. I will save you.” Her eyes glistened with tears, but she bit her lip, restraining her emotions once more as she was led away, her servants following behind her in silence like a funeral procession.
After the queen had exited the throne room, Beau was commanded to restrain the prince. Listening to the orders given by Malcolm, he held one side of Clarence, another guard holding the prince’s other arm as they pushed him forward, restraining his hands behind his back with iron chains like a true prisoner. He was paraded, still wearing his royal blue wedding suit.
Princess Charlotte had long since stood, wanting to defend her husband, but when she turned to Malcolm, all she saw was his golden eyes staring at the crown, his fingers brushing against the intricate gems delicately. A chill traveled down her spine, knowing full well the ending of this affair. She could not risk her position. She could lose everything.
As Clarence was led down the red aisle, he spoke in a quiet whisper to the familiar captain, hoping to gain any favor he could in his time of need. “Captain Laurent, you more than anyone should know I am not an elf.” Clarence scoffed, his eyes full of pleading as he stared at the captain. “The nose of the bloodhound can smell elves, we all know this. If I were an elf, wouldn’t I reek of elves?”
Beau fell silent, leading Clarence forward wordlessly, knowing anything he were to say now could only indict him and the prince further. He looked away from the prince and continued to lead him down the very familiar hall, walking towards the dungeon with heavy footsteps, leading the young man down to the very hell he had created.
The palace was in chaos.
…
Silas was humming an elven tune, attempting to remember the ballad his father used to sing to him, but as he did, there was a banging noise in the hallway, followed by angry yelling. The voice was familiar, but Silas was unsure who it could be.
Not until the door was unlocked, thrown open, and a figure tossed inside like a sack of potatoes. Smacking the ground on his side, laying on his arms and elbows, was Clarence, still dressed in the same coronation suit he had delicately worn before. Now, it was covered in dust and wrinkled, changing his appearance to one of a fallen noble. As he sat up, the door was rapidly slammed shut, effectively trapping the two men in the cell together.
Clarence’s hair was disheveled, his eyes bloodshot and red as he sat on the ground, no restraints to hold him back as he held the door, staring out through the small window in the door as he yelled in anger, “How dare you treat a royal like this! I will have you all executed for treason!”
The nearest guard stared towards the guard next to him and said, “Don’t listen to him. He’s an elven imposter.”
The other guard’s eyes widened, “You mean, the prince has been killed?”
The first guard shushed him. “Don’t speak so loud. We don’t know for sure yet, but I can only guess so. You heard what Duke Godfreed said… He could be an elf”
The two stopped talking shortly after, monitoring their posts as Clarence continued to slam on the reinforced wooden door until his hands turned red and purple, bruised and raw from each landing smack of his fists.
“Why are you here?” Silas was almost too shocked to find his words when the prince was first placed inside, but now, he was unalarmed, feeling almost vindicated seeing the man that had tortured him almost daily experience the same treatment as him.
He could not feel any pity for the young man. After all, he had never suffered a day in his life. Now, the prince could experience what it was like to be a lowly peasant at the wilful nobles’ beck and call, like an animal.
Clarence looked up, his eyes boring into Silas with some anger as he spat. “They compared me to such a vile creature as an elf!” He stared out the short window and added, “Compared to the likes of you-” The prince trailed off, his eyes slowly turning towards Silas, who had momentarily closed his eyes, as if he had tasted something bitter. “I’m enraged.”
Silas fought the temptation to roll his eyes as he responded dryly, “Ah, a travesty.”
“We need to get out of here.” Clarence whispered as he rubbed the back of his neck, his expression dark.
Silas looked at the chains on his wrists, feeling somewhat annoyed at Clarence’s sudden change of heart. “We? Weren’t you planning to kill me before? Besides that, I’m chained to the wall. What possibly could I do?”
As if cued, Clarence reached into the inner pocket of his jacket, retrieving a small silver key from inside. He looked at the key for a moment, as if making sure it were the right one, before he walked to Silas’s side and said, “I have the key to unlock your chains. If you promise to behave, I’ll take them off of you.”
Hearing his words, Silas’s eyes lifted, his expression full of disbelief. “You’re letting me escape?”
Clarence jingled the keys, holding the key between his fingers as he said, “I can’t escape on my own as it is. “ He looked over Silas and said with a frown, “Not that you’re in any condition to fight.”
Thinking of having his chains removed and gaining his freedom, Silas wanted to hurt Clarence, but he knew nothing good would come out of fighting with him again. If the prince were locked down in the dungeon like this, it could only mean a rebellion. If they were to wait here, they would be killed like sitting ducks.
“You’re right, I’m not.” Silas sighed, clenching his hands. “But if you unlock me now, we’ll have a temporary truce.” Clarence stared down at Silas as he said, “That means you can’t attack me either, Clarence.”
“Of course.” The prince smiled, tightening his grip on the keys.
With Silas sitting against the wall, Clarence leaned in closer to Silas, reaching up to Silas’s left hand as he slowly unlocked the chain. After his hand was freed, Silas slowly lowered his arm as Clarence moved to his right wrist, quickly unlocking the chains before he moved towards Silas’s waist, which was stuck in place with the same chains, double wrapped around his hips.
“Don’t. I can get that myself.” Silas said, stopping Clarence before he moved too close.
Clarence raised a brow. “Why? Do you think I would try to touch you?” He laughed to himself, like he had said something funny.
Silas held nothing back. “Yes.” Taking the key out of Clarence’s hand, Silas carefully unlocked himself, unwrapping the chains from around his waist as he stood up, dusting off the dust and dirt that had accumulated on his unchanged clothes since he had arrived, making him feel as though the grime had grown to be a part of his flesh and blood.
“Thank you.” Silas responded reluctantly. With a wince, Silas shakily stood up, using the wall to support his weight as he moved his feet, then his legs, bringing the mana circulating back through his system.
“First, why are you here?” Dropping the key to the ground, Silas looked back to Clarence and said, “Second, how do we get out of here?”
Clarence unbuttoned the top button of his formal suit, looking mildly untamed as he stepped towards the side of the cell, where the key had fallen to the ground.
As the two pondered their next course of action, Silas’s ears itched, his mana detecting a sound from the front of the dungeon. He stepped forward, his eyes fixed on the door as he attempted to listen closer.
“What are yo-”
“Quiet, I hear something.” Silas raised his hand, quieting Clarence as he looked forward, towards the dim lighting of the dungeon hallway.
There was a banging sound in the dungeon, followed by screams as swords clanged and armor was struck, producing a symphony of fighting neither Silas nor Clarence expected. Silas quickly moved towards the window of their cell, staring out through the small window as he saw a familiar knight lying in a pool of blood, his throat having been slit from the front of his neck, barely hidden by the helmet lying limp on his head.
Holding a sword, a figure approached the cell, their figure reeking of blood as they stared forward, then towards Silas, where their set of eyes clashed in the darkness. No sounds were made.
…
Y’all may not hear it, but I’m dragging myself to post this chapter ;; Hunny will be slammed for the next month+ so it’s just me and my editing (it be a struggle). I took my students on a boat trip today though ;u; and it was adorable, so I was happy! I’m meeting them all, and they keep thinking I’m a student too, so big ol’ “aha nah I’m a supervisor” talk 😀
Is Clare an elf? OHH I want to say something, but it really comes down to do you trust Malcolm or Clare/ Queen Racliffe? And Clare and Silas finally got trapped in the dungeon… >:) huhu I kept this part short and sweet, as I just want to get into the next part of the novel. You wanted spicy romance? It’s coming very soon now >y< (well, one-sidedly for now :D)
Chapters will be on a temporary Sunday update schedule for now. I work during the week and I’m too busy to edit while working for now, so weekend時間 for this lass. Editing in the future will only be by me, so if I miss anything or if there are awkward transitions, I apologize, as my brain gave up. Hopefully it all makes sense. See you all Sunday ♥
This is juicy! Thank you. I’ll look forward to Sundays.