The Cursed Tyrant and His Reluctant Queen - Chapter 192
After the naming ceremony, Ignis takes Lars away from Adelphium. He doesn’t even flinch at the jolts.
«Hey,» he murmurs, offering his hand to Lars. «You’re so calm today…»
We walk out and stand near the entrance, waiting for the endless line of nobles congratulating us. I stand next to Ignis without touching him, patient like only I know how to be. I will touch him later… I can resist!
«Congratulations, your Majesties,» says the Queen Dowager. She taps on Gratia’s shoulder, and the girl curtseys.
Without further words, they move away. My life at court has become easier since I don’t have anyone attempting on my life, and the Queen Dowager does her best to stay out of my way.
It’s been so peaceful, and not even the Church has disrupted it, not so often. But I wonder… Soon everything will change, and I’ll be thrown in the middle of the arena. I’ll be the regent while Ignis is away, and everyone will try exploiting me for their purposes.
«At least, the next King will have enough names for him to rule,» says a voice I’ve almost forgotten.
The Queen Dowager Grandmother avoids me most of the time, never leaving her wing of the Palace. However, in times like these, she appears to say something mean to Ignis.
«If he lives long enough to become a King,» she adds.
Ignis straightens his back, for once unwilling to let her get away with her words. And I agree.
It’s fine if she talks trash about us, we don’t care. We are a half-commoner and a bastard, in the end. But our son is innocent, and he’s all we have. No one has the right to talk or wish his death. Not even this old wench.
«Grandmother, your words are harsh,» Ignis says. «If I didn’t know better, I would think you’re jinxing my son… But what use would you have of it?»
His tone is neutral, but his eyes are glacial. I’ve never seen him like this.
«My King, the Queen Grandmother surely didn’t mean it like that,» I say. «What use does she have to bring misfortune? It’s not like she’ll be around when the next King is crowned.»
I smile, reminding him that I am right next to him.
«She didn’t mean anything ill. I am sure!»
«You’re so innocent, my Queen.»
«Innocent?» I chuckle.
«People from the court never have only one intention. It’s not by chance if the Queen Dowager said what she said…»
«I see. Now I am worried, my King. Shall we investigate? Last time, it was your sister-in-law. Next, your grandmother? We shouldn’t let any option unexplored.»
«I’m sure we won’t find anything. The Queen Grandmother isn’t a criminal! But it’s better to be sure, than sorry later.»
We continue enforcing our ideas in front of the grandmother, making her realise that she can’t play with us and get away with it. Not when she’s talking about our son.
He’s more relevant than peace in the Palace.
The old witch raises her brows, annoyed by our references to her age and our wicked tone, but she doesn’t get angry yet. She’s been into the game for ages.
«It’s a pity he inherited red hair,» she says. «It’s a real shame…»
«Why?» I wonder.
It’s so beautiful, isn’t it? And I’ve worked so hard to give birth to him; I was so happy when I saw I succeeded at having a mini-Ignis. Even though with my eyes; it will be better next time.
«Red hair means cursed,» she explains. «I thought you knew it, Queen. After all, you’ve been next to a cursed being long enough to tell.»
«Curse? I think it’s a sign of blessing.»
«But… His affinity to magic, and his red hair. He can’t be a Saint. He’s most likely a demon.»
«It’s my son you’re talking about,» I remind her. «He’s still a baby. And the Crown Prince. If he has to become a cursed tyrant like his father, I’ll see to be by his side and help. And if there’s something cursed tyrants are good at, it is getting rid of annoying people. Crowned heads, or not… they all roll beautifully.»
Ignis clears his throat, reminding me not to go overboard.
«It’s getting late,» he says. «I think it’s enough for today. Have a nice ride back, Grandmother. I hope you can rest well for the evening.»
She grimaces, turning her back and marching away. Since Ignis told her, without ordering it straight away, to stay put, she won’t attend the banquet. Oh, good! Better!
«She makes my blood boil every time,» I say.
«You’re too harsh with words, Veronica. She’s always been like this. She doesn’t have a nice word for anyone except her dear son. Who happens to be dead. She’s alone in the Court, but her family is a prominent one. She still has much power in the Palace, and not just in the Palace.»
«But she can’t use that power, right? She would have done it if it was the case.»
«I don’t know,» he sighs, cuddling Lars who’s still looking at Ignis and shouting happily. Does he know that his daddy just defended his honour from an ugly witch?
Oh, I will let him know as he grows up. I’m sure Lars will be happy.
«I can carry him now,» I say. «Lars is getting heavy, isn’t he?»
«It’s fine. He’s not that heavy,» Ignis chuckles. «But he’s growing up so fast… And he resembles you, see?»
«Me?» Oh, he’s a copy of Ignis, come on! All he inherited from me are my mother’s eyes.
«He smiles all happy when I play with him,» Ignis explains. «And his eyes shine. It’s just like you.»
«My eyes shine?»
«Oh, yes! Just, in your case, your eyes shine when you play with me… Not the other way around.»
«Ignis!» I murmur, pinching his arm from under my sleeve.
No one shall see the Queen bullying the King, for more good reasons than one.
They’ll assume I’m lovingly holding his arm.
My family is the next to congratulate us, and mother smiles happily at us.
«Such a great name!» she exclaims.
I don’t understand her. But for sure she has a plan, or this is good for some reason I can’t still see.
Father isn’t as happy with the name, and he silently stares at his shining wife.
«I’m so happy our first grandson is so loved by the Church,» she adds.
Oh, I see. So that is the thing: they accepted him as much as to give him a good name. It means he’s safe from them, at least for now.
I smile back at mother, now feeling better.
The battle with the Church isn’t over, but we can take a breath. There’s a war to stop before everything, and no one would profit from a loss. Not even the High Priest and his friends. Things will hopefully be calm for me but difficult for Ignis.
Only when the war is over, the Church will try again to get my son with them.
«Since this blessed name is so auspicious, his Highness will be a great Prince, and one day a King,» she says. «Our country is so lucky to have him.»
«Yes, it is. Alba is lucky.» Oddly enough, these are not my words but none other but Ignis’s.
«Great things await this little boy,» mother says, caressing his hand.
I can feel Ignis’s muscles in tension, getting ready for the shock, but nothing happens. There’s some energy flowing, but it doesn’t hurt Ignis.
How odd… Am I the only one sending jolts around? And am I the only one hurting Ignis?
I’m sure mother isn’t doing anything to stop the magic… If anything, she’s letting the path free for Lars to play.
«Oh,» I moan. I think I’m starting to understand…
The first person I shocked was Ignis, during pregnancy.
No one was safe except for Aida, true, but the maids would just be startled at the shock. Ignis would feel a little pain.
Then, after the chaotic birth, Lars would be especially careful to direct the energy to my husband when he was nearby. He tried even without skin contact, but he’s still too weak for that.
«Oh, you,» I murmur, looking at him. Could it be?
Could my son be a little, jealous thing? But he loves his father so much, why hurt him?
After telling Ignis that Lars doesn’t hate him, I’m starting to doubt. It’s not hate, that’s sure. Maybe just a little annoyance. And not always, but only when he’s in my arms.
Finally, I realise. It was my fault. And it was worse with Ignis!
«Oh, my.» I shall make up for this… My husband can’t go to war before I atone for all the pain he had to suffer.
And I have to find something he will accept without asking for the reason. I don’t want to admit it. Not now that these two are starting to like each other…
He should never know. Lars will accept Ignis as his father, and Ignis will love this little thing. They don’t need to remember how their first meetings were, right?
We greet the rest of the guests, accepting the congratulations and then sitting on the carriage to go back. We’re at war: there won’t be any parade for this. Also, there’s no need to expose a baby to all that noise. With more reasons to avoid it than not, we decided to arrange the ride back using the same path as when coming here.
We sit on the carriage and sigh, already tired.. Being royalty is so exhausting, sometimes.