Everything For The Throne {Part II}
News of Horror
Henrik ran through the woods, branches clawing at his cloak, his lungs burning with each desperate breath.
He glanced over his shoulder, terror widening his eyes, yet the path behind him stretched empty, silent.
He stopped, one hand braced against the hollow trunk of an old tree, chest heaving. Only the rasp of his own breathing filled the dark.
A faint shift in the air behind him
He spun with a sharp gasp
When he turned forward again, his breath caught in his throat.
Just inches away, their noses almost touching, stood a woman
Her hair flowed in pale strands of white, her gown as black as midnight. From her eyes dripped tears of blood, glowing red as if lit from within. Beneath the fabric of her dress, her stomach swelled, heavy with child.
Henrik staggered back, feet tangling, and fell hard to the ground.
He begged, voice breaking, palms raised in futile defense.
The woman only stared. Then she raised her hand.
With a single swing of her fingers, invisible blades carved across his flesh. Henrik screamed as lines of fire split open along his arms, his chest, his legs. Each movement of her hand brought another wound, another river of blood spilling hot and fast. He writhed in the dirt, shrieking as the final slash rose toward his throat.
The woman spoke, her voice low, hollow with rage.
.......
You shall be born again… and again… and every time, you will never have the one you love most
His scream tore the air...
Henrik bolted upright in his bed, drenched in sweat, chest heaving.
It had been a dream...
Only a dream...
He seized the bellpull and yanked hard. The chime echoed through the corridors, yet no servants came. The silence needled his raw nerves.
Footsteps pounded from the far end of the corridor. His servant, face ashen, rushed forward, bowing as he gasped for air.
He stammered, words tumbling out
？？？
The princess… the carriage was attacked by bandits and—
Adore her
Henrik sat on the balcony, his gaze fixed on the garden below.
In its heart lay a small mound of fresh earth, still covered in flowers.. the resting place of the little princess.
Footsteps echoed. A chair scraped against the floor as someone settled across from him. Henrik did not move his eyes from the garden.
Concubine Zoya
To keep the death of the kingdom’s lovely princess a secret, and to bury her in the imperial garden… hardly befitting, is it?
She set down a bouquet of oleander.. beautiful, but deadly..on the table.
Flower Oleander may look delicate, but every part of it.. leaves, flowers, even sap.. is highly poisonous.
A small amount can cause nausea, seizures, heart failure, or death, and even the smoke from burning it is toxic. A flower of beauty that kills in silence.
Henrik was silent for a long moment before speaking.
Henrik
Mother’s health falters. Father fears a grand funeral would only claim another life.
Concubine Zoya
Or perhaps His Majesty’s blind love for the queen has led to disrespect for your sister.. A royal being buried in the imperial garden… tch, how pitiful
At that, Henrik finally turned to her. His hollow eyes made her spine stiffen.
Henrik
Alice.. my dear sister… my doll… the only reason I clung to sanity. But Lady Zoya.. now that she is gone, who is there left to stop me, hmm?
He leaned forward, hands clasped, his voice low and dangerous. Zoya instinctively pushed back, her chair toppling as she stumbled to her feet.
Henrik
(whispering)
You thought to twist my love for her into hatred for my father? Clever... very clever...
As she backed away, Henrik’s lips curled faintly
Henrik
You forgot your flowers… or shall I have them brewed into tea and sent to your chamber?
Zoya picked up the bouquet with a sharp hmpf and swept out of the hall. Passing Felix in the doorway, she cast him a cold glare before storming off.
Felix sighed and stepped inside.
Prince Felix
Mother is being hysterical, blaming Father for Alice’s accident. And Father… he just brushed me aside. Yet here you sit, drinking tea with Lady Zoya..
Henrik’s gaze didn’t waver.
Henrik
What is your concern, Felix?
Prince Felix
Alice is dead, brother. You adored her more than anyone in this kingdom, yet you—
Henrik turned to him with a faint smile, quiet but unnerving
Henrik
I still adore her, Felix. She will always be loved by me.
Something shifted in Felix at those words. Doubt melted into shame, and he lowered his head, chastising himself for questioning his brother’s grief.
Partner
Henrik
You called for me, Father?
King Justus looked up from his papers, a rare smile softening his stern face.
King Justus
Ah, there you are. I’d like you to accompany me to the Duke’s mansion
Henrik tilted his head slightly.
Henrik
Is this concerning the new tax decree? I assumed such matters would be discussed at council.
Justus let out a warm laugh.
King Justus
My dear boy, I’m pleased by your dedication to the kingdom
King Justus
This is not about policy. I would rather speak of life. The Duke’s daughter, Miss Siya, has shown interest in you. I think the proposal deserves consideration.
Henrik’s expression remained calm, but his tone was firm.
Henrik
I must decline, Father. I have no such interest.
King Justus
You cannot simply live without a partner. You’ve reached an age where—
Henrik
If marriage is to be considered, it must be to one whose standing strengthens the throne itself.
The Duke’s daughter is a fine match.. but better suited for Felix. Their union would secure loyalty without weakening the crown
The king fell silent, caught off guard by his son’s reasoning
King Justus
Henrik… I cannot say I am proud of such calculating words.
Henrik bowed his head with measured respect
Henrik
Yet they are words I believe serve the kingdom, Your Majesty. I trust you will understand
He stepped back, excusing himself with quiet grace, leaving Justus alone.. his smile faded, his mind troubled by the son who spoke more like a sovereign than a child.
Henrik returned to the training grounds, gripping the sword until his knuckles whitened.
Each swing cut through the air with a sharp hiss, but his teeth ground together, the earlier talk of “partners” gnawing at him in silence.
The knight before him blurred from his sight. His arms moved by instinct, while his mind slipped elsewhere..
The soft lap of water against a wooden pier.
A woman, pale-haired and radiant, sat at the edge, her legs swaying in the lake’s cool shimmer.
She laughed, bright and unguarded, as Henrik sat behind her, fingers weaving her silken hair into a braid.
.......
I’ve spoken to Father about us…
He paused, braid half-finished, then resumed.
.......
He wishes to meet you. How would you like dinner with my family tonight?
Henrik tied the braid, drawing it over her shoulder.
His hands lingered, settling lightly on her shoulders as he leaned close, his voice a whisper against her ear.
He pressed a kiss to her cheek, her soft chuckle echoing—
Steel slammed against his blade, jolting him back. The knight’s strike nearly tore the weapon from his hands. Henrik stumbled, vision snapping into sharp focus, breath ragged. His chest heaved as he pushed forward with sudden ferocity, disarming the knight in one brutal motion.
The memory dissolved, leaving only sweat, steel, and the hollow ache in his chest.
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