A Brother's Love - Book 3 - The Frencolian Chronicles (complete)

Chapter Twelve

The king sat whilst all others stood. Elissa slipped her slim hand into her husband's, and he squeezed it, trying to impart assurance he himself did not possess.

"As I see it," the king said, pausing, trying to control his ire at the children's absence. He had hoped that their excitement about his plans would cause the parents to agree without fuss. "As I see it, we have three, or maybe four, options, for the future of the Kingdom of Frencolia. One of them is that I myself marry and produce an heir. This, however, is not my wish. I'm grateful to have married the one woman I always loved. But fate has taken my heir and my daughters..." the royal voice faltered and there was silence for a minute.

Chatelain relaxed. He chastised himself for the unusual way his imagination had led him. The baron had thought that the king might want to marry his second cousin, Jobyna. Leopold had always been intrigued with the child, who was almost as tall as Elissa, though, as yet, completely shapeless, too thin; she was twelve now, and he had forgotten her birthday...

The king's voice broke the quietness, "Fate has decreed that my son, Charles, will not succeed me. Therefore, I ask, what is fate trying to do? The next option is you, Chatelain." He waited whilst the baron shook his head; and continued, "I thought not. The third option is that Luke be trained for the position. That is my foremost desire. I'd have liked Luke to have answered me on this, but as he's not here, perhaps his parents will tell me what they think about it." The king looked around the room, at the semi-circle of people. "Of course, you all know that I'll have to confirm this with the lords and senior knights, but I am confident that they will all accept my word, my wish."

"No!" Chatelain felt Elissa quake at the loud finality of his naked negative. The chamber reverberated with gasps, one emitted by the king. A deathly hush followed, then King Leopold broke into an uncontrolled laughing bout. He stood, still laughing, and then sat again heavily. The laughter turned to coughing then he fell silent.

"Explain yourself, Chatelain!" the king demanded.

"I simply have to turn you back to the time of my resignation, Your Majesty, my royal cousin. You agreed for my retirement to Chanoine and in turn, you demanded that neither I, nor my sons would ever ascend your throne. Our rights were relinquished. I believe, Sire, that God sets up kings and princes. As for me and my house, we will serve the Lord."

Chatelain turned on his cousin and uttered words that surprised even Elissa, "I will go into exile before one of my sons —I beg your pardon— my only son, Luke, sits on the Throne of Frencolia!"

The king found his voice again, gesticulating with both hands, "All right! All right! Now, totally off record, Cousin, why do you feel so strongly against your son ascending the throne?"

"Off record, Cousin; all right." Chatelain clenched his fists, trying to control his voice and condense his thoughts. "The Throne in Frencolia is a charade, a farce." Gasps circled the room once more and the king's mouth dropped open. "Not to say that the king is such!" He saw Leopold relax. "But a king, alone, cannot make a kingdom succeed ... the people do! The knights... they go with the flow, like a river, they mouth vows but do not keep them. The Frencolian people... their oppression... I believe the people's voice should be heard!"

"Oppression? What oppression?" King Leopold had forgotten, briefly, his fourth option.

"We... and I say we, because Frencolia is my country... we overtax; we enslave; we punish children who thieve by cutting off limbs; we hang, often without trial, and we allow the baron and reeve of each district to do as they please." Chatelain felt words welling up inside him, but he was driven to silence by the king's mounting fiery color.

"Then could not... your son... whom you have taught... change this... as king?" Leopold asked and then answered it himself, "No. I did not think you would like the idea. Then, Chatelain, the succession will have to come through your daughter." At his cousin's blank stare and Elissa's sudden stiffening, he said, "Yes, your daughter, Jobyna Chatelain." He waved at the scribe and said, "Be seated. We will draw up a betrothal paper."