Crazy Duke and Fallen Queen

Chapter 2: A new husband

The Archduke of Kyre is a few years older than me, but he certainly doesn't have my experience in rulership. Yet, he managed to defeat me on my territory.

He's a whole head taller, and his eyes shine regardless of the darkness in them. They're pitch-black, but they still reflect the light. I can see my figure in them when he turns to me and smiles assuringly.

His hair is also dark, as well as his clothes. He looks like a devil aiming at my soul.

He stands next to me as if he's used to dealing with fallen queens. As if he's never done anything else than marrying prisoners and winning wars.

There isn't any malice in his smile, but he hasn't any real reason to be resentful. He is the one who won, and he's going to enjoy his reward without worrying too much. This is how things work outside of my Palace walls, I know it.

When the guard uncuffs me, I massage my wrists. Red marks cover my skin, but they don't look severe. They will probably fade soon.

I'm still confused by this sudden turn of events.

Did the Archduke ask to be the one killing me? Or does he just want something to show around as a sign of his victories?

Whatever the case, does the Archduke need a wife so badly? Isn't there anyone else willing to marry him, among all those noble ladies?

I glance at the crowd, and I discern a range of different emotions among them. Some are shocked, others annoyed or confused. At least, I'm not the only one not understanding what's happening.

Regardless, I'm not willing to play along. An Emperor has the power to declare marriages, here in Ethiro. Yet we in Polis value our traditions. If a priest isn't present, this marriage can't be considered valid.

I will point this out when the Duke tries to take advantage of me. My words won't stop him, that's for sure, but at least he'll know how immoral his actions are.

As if reading my mind, my new husband points with his chin to a spot behind the throne. Right there, a young maiden with painted skin and a long red gown is looking at us with interest. She's analysing my features and the Archduke's actions as if she's observing some children behaving oddly. It's the same way a city dweller stares at the animals of a farm.

Red is the colour only the imperial family and the highest priests are allowed to use. That young girl is a priestess, and a high-ranked one, at that.

She didn't oppose the announcement, so she implicitly approved of it.

I bite my lower lip in a huff. My first idea was thrown in the water even before I had finished forming it.

«You can go, now,» the Emperor utters and starts to read a note that arrived a few minutes ago. It must not be that important if the messenger waited for so long before delivering it.

The man by my side half kneels, greeting the Emperor by bowing his head like everyone else.

If I remember correctly, the etiquette of the Empire states that ladies are required only to curtsey. I could just bend my knees by a few degrees and get it over with, but all this situation is getting on my nerves.

I have no intention to follow their rules. No one asked me my opinion, so I don't need to consider myself as one of them.

I just wanted to die in peace. Why involve marriage in all of this?

The Emperor meets my gaze and smiles gently. I bet he can understand what I'm feeling. I've never needed to show courtesy: it was the rest of the people that revered me.