Prince Fernando
The clatter of footsteps sounded down the hall. I raised my tear-streaked face to meet them. The physician, Camille, fell to her knees beside my father. She coughed against the stench of blood, urine, and excrement for the second time in the last twenty-four hours. Her expression paled as she looked over his wounded temple and palpated his neck.
“He’s gone,” I gasped, my voice breaking. I didn’t have to exaggerate my grief. Each heartbeat pulsed like a stabbing blade, and I pressed a red stained palm to my aching chest.
“Fetch the healer,” she cried to one guard. “She may bring him back.”
“She hasn’t woken since she healed me,” I called out after him
His steps faltered. The physician lowered her gaze in understanding. Stella couldn’t save him the way she’d saved me.
Camille opened his eyelids, revealing glassy, bloodshot eyes. Her fingers shook as she checked his pulse again, then stooped to listen for breathing. She gently pressed on his lips, exposing the soft inner flesh.
I didn’t leave bruises.
“We’ve lost the king,” she whispered.
Salty liquid seeped into my mouth, and I wiped my cheeks. Guilt squeezed every muscle, making it difficult to speak, move, breathe. The truth reverberated in my mind.
You did this. You did this. You did this.
I clenched my jaw until it ached.
He was going to kill all of us and rape Diedre. I silently screamed back. I didn’t want to! I had to!
The leader of the king’s guard, Allard, spoke a prayer to the divine that my father’s soul found peace. Then he ordered, “Take King Sartorius’ body to his room and prepare for a full inspection.”
It was customary to examine the recently deceased to determine how they died. It would appear that he perished from head trauma.
You killed him. Murderer.
“We observed Prince Lorenzo throw the candelabra,” Allard said.
I nodded and inhaled. “My brother was distraught, but he did not do this on purpose. Many of us witnessed the king speaking after the impact. I believe this is a horrible accident.”
The guard’s eyes narrowed, but he didn’t dare contradict me.
“Help me take him to his rooms,” I commanded. “And release Lorenzo and his mother from wherever they were being held.”
They obeyed without a word.
They know. My inner voice taunted.
Even if they did, what would they do? The higher nobles might try to unseat me, but civil war would weaken us and invite an attack from Lisaire or Damai. As long as we pretended I didn’t commit patricide, we’d be alright.
Over the next several hours, I suppressed remorse as I worked on the protocols and procedures after a king dies. Writing letters wasn’t possible with my trembling hands, so I dictated messages to the nobles of Astralini about the untimely death of our ruler with a promise to lead us with justice and honor.
It felt empty.
I didn’t deserve this. Murderers should be punished, not granted a kingdom.
I had to. I had to. I had to.
Nothing eased the pain.
A soft knock interrupted, and I jerked toward the sound. Queen Catarina filled the doorway. I blinked back my shock. She’d avoided me for months, but it was her condition that horrified me. Her pale complexion, tangled hair, and the bruises encircling her wrists told a tale far different from what I expected. I motioned for the scribe to leave us.
I swallowed, unsure of what to say.
“You set me free,” she said, almost in a whisper.
“I discovered the real mastermind behind the attack.”
Several emotions flew across her face, and next thing I knew, the stepmother who hated my guts embraced me fiercely.
I slowly wrapped my arms around her. Her ribs protruded from her frail body. She’d lost far too much weight since I saw her last.
She pulled back and cupped my cheeks. I held back the instinct to jerk away.
“I know you did this,” she whispered. “Thank you.”
Crying 😭 poor Fernando.