Twenty #4
The Queen stepped forward, opening her mouth in a shriek full of all of her malice and hatred.
Makellos recoiled before he saw that under her fine dress, her feet had suddenly turned into a fine powder.
She let out another scream, this one an other-worldly sound, toppling forward as her legs became no more solid than gritty sand.
The glittering powder moved rapidly up her torso, over her chest and into her arms. Her hand with its perfectly manicured nails and bejeweled rings reached out toward his face again, but the diamond dust slid down her hand, into each finger.
The last bit of it turned to dust just as her longest fingernail brushed his cheek.
For a moment, she stood, suspended in time, a glittering edifice in a royal gown and golden crown, her beautiful face twisted into a scream of rage, before her body suddenly began to crumble and melt as a sandcastle before a tide.
Rivulets of gleaming dust streamed off of her, her fingers breaking off and hitting the floor with a soft thump.
The next moment, Queen Schon’s body had fallen, and then there lay on the floor only her fine clothes and jewelry alongside her bejeweled crown, draped over a heap of dark, shimmering diamond dust. The evil Queen Schon was no more.
Grim coughed and waved his hand in front of him to clear the powder that had wafted from the pile of what amounted to not more than ashes on the floor. “Well, that was unexpected.”
Makellos turned to Der with a confused stare. The poisoned apple in her potion was meant to put her to sleep, not dissolve her, though he supposed the outcome was essentially the same. “What happened?”
Der took off his glasses, wiping them on the hem of his tunic as he squinted at the pile of diamond dust in front of him. “I don’t know. Fascinating. Perhaps there was just so much evil in her, the poison reacted to it. Magic kept her alive for so long, it may have created a backlash.”
“Well, good riddance, says I,” said Grim with a snort.
He stepped over to the pile, kicking aside the dress and surrounding fine grains of diamond powder so he could pick up the golden crown.
He blew on it a few times to clear the dust off of it before he turned around and held it out to Makellos. “Your majesty.”
Makellos stared at it in mute surprise, as if he had never seen it before. The silence lasted for so long that Grim let out an uneasy cough. “I ain’t gettin’ down on one knee. I’m short enough as it is.”
That broke whatever had transfixed Makellos, and he took the crown in his hands with a bark of laughter. “Thank you, Grim. I… will find out from my people if that is what they want.”
They made their way out of the Queen’s chambers and through the castle.
Many of the guards were occupied with standing toward the front of the castle as the townspeople gathered for what they thought would be an announcement from the Queen.
Makellos received many surprised looks from the few guards and servants they passed, as well as many grateful and pleased smiles, especially when they saw the Queen’s crown in his hand.
He suspected many of them had thought him dead and seemed relieved that he was not.
He gave them all smiles back, bidding the servants to follow him to the main gates.
When he arrived at the palace doors, they were opened, and he stepped out into the courtyard to find a large gathering of the town waiting expectantly in the street as the guards all stood at the gates. They parted as he drew near to them, bowing. A few steps behind him, Grim smirked at the guards.
At the castle gates, Makellos lifted the crown high above his head so everyone could see it. “Citizens of Falchovari,” he said, his sweet voice carrying across the open air. “My mother, Queen Schon, is dead.”
There was a stunned silence as people stared at him, then blankly at one another.
The cold, cruel Queen had ruled Falchovari for two hundred years; it was all they had known.
Then, in the silence, Dagobert gave a delighted whoop.
And then there were cheers and applause and laughter and crying all bubbling up at once.
People tossed their hats into the air. Husbands embraced their wives and children.
One elderly man toward the front of the crowd began to dance a jig.
The streets echoed with the sounds of newfound freedom.
This went on for some minutes before it started to die down, and Makellos lifted his voice once more.
“Many of you may not know me. I am Prince Makellos. Queen Schon was my mother, but not my family. Her reign of treachery and cruelty ends with her. She poisoned everyone into believing that it’s everyone for themselves.
But I intend to spend every day of my life from here on out earning your trust and bettering our fair kingdom, restoring it, caring for those who are most in need, and creating a better future for our descendants.
But whether that is as your king or something else, I leave that up to you, the good people of Falchovari, to decide. ”
A rustle went through the crowd again. Makellos felt his heart pick up in his chest. He knew he was asking a lot.
Many of them had never seen him before, and knowing who his mother was, he would understand if the people decided they did not wish to have the son of the evil Queen as their ruler.
He just had to hope that if they did not want him to rule, they would not choose violence.
Someone stepped to the front of the crowd, face hidden by a thick, brown cloak.
But when he stepped up next to Hardwic and Bernhardt and pulled his hood back, Makellos nearly wept for joy to see Hans, the kindly huntsman who had spared his life.
Hans gazed back at him with his dark eyes before he pressed his hand to his chest and lowered himself to one knee.
“I pledge my loyalty to King Makellos,” he said, his voice thick with emotion.
“As do I,” said Sigurd a few steps away, bowing at the waist.
“And I,” added Sigmund, mirroring the bow.
“And I,” said Dagobert in the strongest voice Makellos had ever heard from him.
There was a wave of movement through the crowd as most of them bowed at least their heads to him. Makellos felt his heart warm, his cheeks rosy. The kingdom seemed to be overwhelmingly supporting him.
One of the guards looked uncertainly at Hans, then at Makellos. “Your Hi- Your Majesty, we are under orders to arrest Hans upon sight.”
Hans looked up from his bow, his face pinched in a worried frown. Makellos smiled calmly. “Then, as my first official act, I pardon Hans for whatever crimes he might have committed that were determined by my mother. He is a free man.”
A cheer went up from the crowd. Makellos swept his eyes over seven little men standing at the front of the group, the men who had come to mean so much to him, who had protected him at the risk of their own lives, whom he loved with all of his heart.
“And my second official act, all enforced exiles and servitudes will be revoked, and every prison sentence commanded by the former Queen shall be re-evaluated in a timely manner.”
Hardwic, Sigurd, Sigmund, Grimwald, and Dagobert let out a cheer of delight that the crowd echoed, while Bernhardt wiped tears from his eyes, and Der smiled proudly at Makellos.
“Well, now, it seems that you’ve come a long way from our little shack in the woods, your majesty,” Bernhardt said with a chuckle as Makellos sat upon the throne in the newly repaired throne room of the palace.
Makellos smiled at the seven little men assembled before him. “It is thanks to all of you,” he said. “I am here because of you, and I would not trade my time with you for anything in the world.”
The little men smiled back, but Makellos could see the sadness in their eyes.
He was in the palace once more, with servants and responsibilities and a kingdom that needed him.
His own heart had ached when he thought of them returning to their distant cottage, away from him, away from the love and the life they had built together.
Which was why he had assembled them all before him now.
“I have something to ask of you,” he said.
“I have learned so much from each of you, with so much more still to glean. I cannot possibly rule this kingdom all by myself, nor do I wish to, for it is important that the people have a voice. You each have your own areas of expertise, and I believe your knowledge and compassion would be invaluable to Falchovari. As such, I would like to ask if all seven of you would stay here with me, as my royal advisors?”
A dropped pin could have been heard in the stunned silence that fell over the throne room.
Makellos felt his breath catch as seven pairs of eyes stared back at him.
Had he said something wrong? Would they decide to leave him and return to the simple home they had known for so long?
Did they perhaps no longer want to be with him now that he had taken the crown?
Then Dagobert gave a great whoop. “Yes!” he shouted, and sprinted over to Makellos to throw his arms around him tightly.
The silence broken, the others surged forward as well, with cheers of delight.
Makellos slid off of his throne and onto his knees so he could embrace all of them as they crowded around him.
“Yes, of course I will, Snow, I mean, your highness! I mean, your majesty!” Der said, stumbling all over himself.
“It would be an honor to serve you,” Hardwic said, sweeping into a grand bow.
Tears of joy filled Makellos’ eyes as their warmth and love surrounded him, pulling them close, kissing each of them in turn. “Thank you. Thank you so much. I love you, all of you, with all of my heart.”
“We love you too, Snow,” said Sigurd.
“Never had my cock sucked by a king before,” Sigmund added, and Der and Hardwic shot him a reproachful glare.
“You really think we have what it takes to run a kingdom?” Grim asked, a smirk curving up the corner of his lips. “You sure you ain’t doin’ this just to keep us all around in your bed?”
“Why can’t it be both?” Makellos said, giving him a wink and a bright smile back. “After all, it’s only fair.”