Epilogue
Charles remembered the night his father finally told them the truth.
They had been summoned after supper, he and his brother, into the smaller hall where the fire burned low, and the servants had already withdrawn. Their father sat alone at the long table, a single candle between them, the light catching the deep lines in his face. He looked close to death.
For a moment he said nothing, then he looked from one son to the other and spoke quietly.
“There is something that belongs to this crown,” he said. “Something older than our kingdom and older than the church that blesses it.”
Charles felt his brother move beside him.
“What thing?” his brother asked.
Their father folded his hands together. “A bargain. Our ancestor sought to secure the throne for our blood,” he continued. “He promised the Devil a queen’s soul in return for dominion that would endure beyond one lifetime.”
Charles felt his jaw tighten. “And the Devil accepted?”
“Yes. He had no other choice.”
The candle flickered.
“But the Devil is…particular,” their father went on. “He does not take just any soul. The Queen must prove herself worthy.”
“Worthy of hell?” Charles huffed.
His father ignored the remark. “The Devil reveals a token to the chosen heir. A ring, a necklace, a jewel. The King gives it to his bride, and through it the Devil measures her soul.”
“And if she is not worthy?” Charles’s brother asked.
“Then she withers, she falls ill. Or the bond simply fails.”
Silence followed that.
Charles stared at the candle’s flame. “And which of us must carry this burden?” he asked at last.
His father’s gaze settled on his elder son. “Only the devil can decide.”
Charles did not move.
“The kingdom will be divided between you after my death,” their father continued. “But the covenant will remain with whoever the devil chooses. It is his duty to find the soul the devil seeks.”
Charles made a decision that night.
His brother would not hold the Devil’s favor.
His brother would not hold the greater power.
His brother would not fulfill the covenant.
He said nothing more that night.
But he vowed to beat the Devil at his own tricks, come what may.
Years later, when their father was gone and the kingdom had been divided between them, the fragile peace between the brothers began to fracture.
What had once been presented as a practical arrangement soon felt like an insult neither man could forget.
Land had been measured and borders drawn, but authority was harder to divide, and before long, both sides were preparing for the war that seemed inevitable.
They agreed to meet once more before the first swords were drawn, choosing a hunting lodge deep in the forest where they had spent many summers as boys.
Charles remembered the evening clearly; The damp smell of the marsh nearby, the uneasy politeness that stretched between them as they spoke of matters neither truly wished to resolve.
His brother drew from his pocket something unusual: a necklace with a dark green stone set into its center, the stone cut so precisely that even in the dim light it caught and held every flicker of the fire.
When Charles asked where it had come from, his brother admitted, with a hint of unease, that he had found it in the marsh months ago.
A toad had crawled from the reeds with the necklace clasped in its mouth, placing it at his feet before disappearing again into the water as if its task had been completed.
Charles understood immediately what that meant. Their father had said the Devil would reveal the token when the time came. The object would be given to a queen, and through it her soul would be judged.
The necklace in his brother’s hand was that token.
For a long moment Charles simply looked at it, watching how the stone seemed to glow from within.
Then, before the thought could turn into doubt or hesitation, he drew the dagger from his belt and drove it into his brother’s chest. The act was quick and almost quiet; his brother barely had time to react before collapsing to the ground.
The necklace slipped from his fingers as he fell.
Before Charles could pick it up, it dissolved into smoke.
Months later, while dining in the house by the lake with several of his companions, the door swung open though no one had touched it, and a snake slid quietly across the floor of the hall.
Conversation faltered as the creature moved toward the emperor’s table with an eerie certainty, climbing the carved leg of the table and coiling beside his golden cup.
With a small flick of its head it dropped a red garnet stone into the wine, the metal ringing softly as the jewel struck the bottom.
When Charles looked down, he saw the garnet gleaming through the liquid like a drop of blood.
Charles closed his hand around the stone and kept it. From that day forward, he would place the jewel in a ring and gift it to one wife after another, believing that sooner or later the devil would recognize the soul he had been promised.
Waiting for the one who would fulfill the covenant.