The Wolves of Bellrose

Chapter Six - The Death of a King

In the capital.

Queen Liliane strode through the polished halls of the royal palace with the confidence only a queen has. The beautiful skirts of her embellished dress whispered around her, her slippered feet making no noise upon the marble floors. Her face was pleasant and kind, but a barely contained storm was brewing beneath. It would not do for her mask to slip in front of others.

The two guards that stood before the large entrance to the council chambers, nodded toward her to show their deference. They could not bow to her with all their armor upon them. She did not like the silly bowing anyway. She nodded back politely. And though they should have, they did not block her entrance to the room inside.

She knew she could not let her mask slip, especially now. They would not listen to her if she showed any emotion. They werent all that likely to listen to her even if she kept her face as impassive as a poker players. Her entrance caught their attention, which was the point of throwing the doors open before her. She strode forward several steps as the soldiers closed the doors behind her. She would have to remember to ask what reward would benefit them most later. For now she stood, hands folded before her neatly, a pleasant smile smeared across her impassive face. The table before her was filled with lords from all regions of their kingdom. All of them were fat and old, with ridiculous mustaches and beards trying to hide their sagging jowls. Papers littered the table before them, though they looked relatively unimportant from the brief scan she gave them. She seemed to have caught them mid-argument. It was an almost comical scene to see. Lord Hamish was standing, leaning across the table as far as his ample stomach would allow, yelling it would seem, at Lord Young, who was not so young anymore. The other lords were in varying stages of agreeing or refuting the argument they were discussing prior to her entrance. All of them were staring at her, mouths hanging open, faces blotched ruddy with anger.

"My lords," she nodded her head at them. "I would like to discuss with you a most pressing matter of concern." She strode toward the head of the table where the King would usually take his place. She did not sit when she reached it, but merely placed her hands upon the high back of the chair. "As you are aware, I have brought this matter forward several times and yet still I see no progress. And since my husband has taken to his sick bed and cannot come to these meetings, I wished to remind you yet again that the crown prince is missing and no efforts have been taken to find him. The longer he is missing the more suspicious the townspeople become. If he is not found I fear that the people will not bear it well."

The lords took a moment to unfreeze from their positions. As one they all looked between one another, before Lord Hamish took the lead, as she had expected. "My dear, we are trying our best to locate your son. Do try not to fret, as it can only make the kings health decline even faster than it already is. The people will be fine. But remember your place, your Majesty. This council is for men to discuss important business. We cannot run the kingdom smoothly with your constant interruptions. We will once again, redouble our efforts into finding the crown prince, but we cannot waste too much time and resources upon him. As I said before, we have a kingdom to run while your husband is indisposed, your Majesty," he answered, twirling his mustache while he spoke, drawing her attention to how patchily it was grown and how long his nose was. While his words were acceptable, his tone most certainly was not. Anger briefly clouded her senses before she took a deep breath (as much as she could without drawing their notice to it) and settled back into her mask.

"How many times have you redoubled your efforts into finding the prince now, my lords?" She asked with perfect politeness. "One would surely assume that the efforts you have put into finding the prince, would see him found by now." She said as she strode past the lords back towards the doors. Lord Hamish's face became even redder than it was before, if possible, as she breezed past him. She could hear his wheezing breath and out of the corner of her eye she saw him twitch, as if he meant to grab her arm. She smirked. She wished he would. It would give her cause to have him executed for placing hands upon the Queen. But then, there would be the whole headache of swearing in a new and untested lord into the council, probably his son and there was every chance he was as bad as his father and it would turn into a bloodbath from there.