Trigger warning: mention of rape
My heart thundered as I thought of what delicious secrets the king's memories might bring to light. The ruler of Sandova had ruled for over 30 years, the oldest reigning king in any known amount of time. He had, in his halcyon days, forged wars against nations with twice the size of his own armies, and against all odds, won.
And I would be having the pleasure of taking those memories.
"A Lady Elaine requests an audience with you, Sire," said the announcer. I peered around the side of the door, an elderly man of large girth filling the desk at which he wrote. I couldn't see much beyond the locks of white hair about his neck, but the frame was unmistakably King Dova's.
The king continued writing, absently declaring, "Come in." Of course, prior to my admittance into the palace, he must have received my letter regarding my family's sudden decline in currency and decided I was of no threat. The old fool.
I entered the considerably large study made small by the papers sporadically strewn about. I stood a few feet away from the king, awaiting for further acknowledgement as he continued to languorously conclude the last details of his letter. After a few moments, my hands clammy with sweat, the king finally set aside his quill and arose from the chair, towering over me.
Despite the ruin he'd caused in the recent decades for his people, one might wonder if his halcyon days ever truly left him from the way he stood.
"Lady Elaine, you have asked for an audience with me," he said.
"Yes, your Majesty. I'm sure you've received my letter." The king gave a curt nod and walked over to a nearby stand, a pile of notebooks and a decanter containing an amber liquid sitting atop it.
"As many of the other lesser Noble Houses, House Le Fey has fallen into difficult times as of late with the removal of all imports." The king again nodded, taking out a glass and pouring some of the drink. He took a swig of the amber liquid and set it down, waiting for me to continue.
"Ah... So, on behalf of my family, I wanted to implore you to reconsider the reopening of the importing ventures." I knew his answer long before he said it. Of course, the idea to cease trade within the country was not even his, but rather those put forward by his brothers and sisters who invested largely in foreign export.
The Royal Enchantment, allowing only those of royal blood to access another royal's memories, was ingenious—if largely imperfect. It made it all too easy to use for blackmail.
The king licked his lips, a wry grin springing to his face.
"You want me to reopen imports within Sandova? For the Le Fey House?" I nodded. "You know I can't do that." His voice was almost sympathetic.
"Why not? What's stopping you?" I retorted. "Let Prince Hawn and his banks hang; he's throwing the entire country into ruin only to aid the depths of his pockets!" The king's eyebrows rose at the outburst, yet his wry demeanour remained fixed.
"Quite direct of you, Lady Elaine to accuse your sovereign's brother of such misdeeds." He sauntered over to an opened envelope. While I stood too far away to see it clearly, I knew exactly what it was.
"But then again, you're not really Lady Elaine, are you? No, the real Lady Elaine died in a house fire almost six years ago. And... if you're not here to contest my recent legislation, you must only be here for one thing: my memories." He chuckled. "I'm afraid you must leave empty-handed, for only five people in this world could ever hope to access them."
I took a breath and let it out, my blood thrumming with excitement. So many years—for this moment.
"Yes, I'm afraid you're right. My grand and elaborate plan is all for naught. I've been foiled."
"So you recognize that as I call for my guards, you will soon find yourself in the dungeons for the rest of your life?"
I took a step toward Sandova's sovereign, noting what I failed to notice before—despite his attempts at power and authority, his right leg shook, and his smile could not conceal the lines beginning to sprout around his eyes and face. His halcyon and indeed, days of youth were pushed far behind him, displaced by blackmail and long hours pouring over long tedious official documents.
"Indeed, it appears the dungeons are all that await me now—if not for the same blood we share."
"What?! What blood could I ever share with such a wretch?"
"By another wretch you met 23 years ago in a small town called Mandrial." A flash of stillness seized the king, his mouth working silently around the name as his mind traveled back. And then, with a sharp intake of breath, he knew.
"A young woman whom you probably couldn't care to know the name of. You took her in an old broom closet as her silent screams would echo in her nightmares for the rest of her life. And then tried to leave her for dead with a knife plunged into her side."
Any sign of humor had disappeared from the king's face, replaced by creeping horror.
"You shouldn't have gone for the nurse, your Majesty, who'd seen many wounds stitched up in her lifetime. Or should I call you Father?"
"I've had enough of this blasphemy! Guards! Guards—"
"I slipped the guards a tonic, Father dear, so don't think of calling for them." His eyes widened further as he took in seemingly for the first time the tall young woman before him. "And instead, I advise closing your eyes. I've heard taking such closed off memories can prove to be a bit uncomfortable," I said, sauntering toward the frail, shaking man and placed my index fingers upon his temples, watching my reward flash before my eyes.
