Chapter 5 #2
With a small gesture of one hand, as if shooing away an insect, Louis spoke again. “You cannot put off our father any longer. He wishes you to marry the Fraysian princess, so that is what you must do. You are making your situation much more difficult than necessary.”
From behind, Henry could see the muscles in Stefano’s neck and shoulders tighten and his hands clench into fists.
When he spoke, however, his voice was unexpectedly soft.
“I can’t, Lou. Can’t you see? He’s trying to shut me into a cage—me and that poor Fraysian girl—because he can’t control his greed.
Can’t you speak some sense to him? Or magic some into him, for the gods’ sake! ”
“I cannot. I have attempted it, but controlling minds to that extent is beyond the scope of my skills.” Louis looked almost regretful.
“It’s unfortunate that there’s no Fraysian prince for you to marry instead, but this is not nearly the catastrophe you make it out to be.
Marry the girl and, for the most part, your life will continue as it is.
You can continue to slop about in the mud with your insects and mosses.
You can continue your… relationship with your valet.
I know you’re not stupid—surely you understand that the marriage itself is nothing but a stage play. ”
“I don’t want to spend my life as an actor.”
They stared at each other, each man—perhaps for the first time—truly trying to gain an understanding of the other. Each hoping the other would see the inevitability of a certain course of action, but not really believing he would.
A bird called from a shrub on the other side of the pond. Perhaps it was Stefano’s warbler. It had a plaintive sound, as if calling for a lost loved one. Stefano turned his head to look in that direction, but only for a moment.
Louis stood as straight as one of the palace pillars, looking out of place under the sky instead of beneath a roof. His face lacked the cruelty of his father’s and the bullish stupidity of Philip’s, but it also showed none of Stefano’s warmth and humor.
“Let me explain something to you,” Louis said.
“Two possible scenarios. In one, you continue to refuse. The king becomes incensed at your disobedience. Not only does it interfere with his plans for Fraysia, but he is also shamed by his son’s defiance of his authority.
He cannot stand for this. He orders you permanently imprisoned.
” Louis shrugged. “Or simply has you executed.”
Henry could picture these things clearly: his beloved, wasting away in a dungeon or kneeling for the executioner’s sword.
He knew this was not a farfetched scenario.
Not only had he witnessed firsthand the king’s coldness when dealing with Stefano, but Henry was also aware that a few years before Stefano was born, the king had ordered the death of his own younger brother.
Although the official charge had been high treason, palace gossip said that the real crime had been publicly opposing some of the king’s policies.
In more recent years, more than one member of the High Council had been beheaded for similar reasons.
Henry wanted to clutch Stefano tightly, but of course that wouldn’t help. Henry couldn’t protect him.
But Louis wasn’t finished. “In the other scenario, you marry the princess. Father controls all of Fraysia. But he is old, Stefano. Have you noticed? Sometimes his voice wavers. He uses a walking stick when he’s in his private chambers. His physicians attend to him daily. He won’t live much longer.”
This was said without any hint of sadness or regret. Louis wasn’t rejoicing in his father’s illness, but he clearly wasn’t grieving it either.
“So?” Stefano seemed indifferent as well. “Then Philip becomes king. He won’t be any more benevolent.”
Again, a flash of emotion showed on Louis’s face, this time disgust. “Philip has less intellect than a pig and far fewer redeeming values. As king, he would either destroy this country by his own idiocy or he would fall prey to the whispering voices of those who would use him.”
Henry saw no flaws in the accuracy of these statements, and likely neither did Stefano, who crossed his arms and jutted his jaw. “So?”
“Don’t you care about your country? Our family has ruled it for nearly a thousand years.”
Stefano didn’t answer immediately. Maybe it hadn’t occurred to him that his brother gave a damn about such things.
Certainly Louis had never shown much indication of patriotism in the past. Stefano and Henry had discussed him on occasion, and neither could fathom his deeper motivations.
He seemed fixated on magic and nothing else.
“I don’t see how I can change this state of affairs by marrying the princess,” Stefano said quietly.
Louis hesitated briefly, which was unsettling.
Though he rarely spoke much, when he did, he always seemed sure of himself.
Now he wiped at one of his tunic sleeves as if brushing away an insect.
“When Father dies, an accident might befall Philip. Or he might contract an illness.” He paused, no doubt for his meaning to sink in.
Henry got it immediately, but Stefano—sweet Stefano—took a few beats longer. Then he inhaled sharply. “You mean—”
“For the good of my country and its citizens, yes. Don’t pretend you’ll mourn him. He was cruel to you when we were children and has not improved since. Nobody else will mourn him either. He is not beloved by our citizens, who mock him among themselves. His wife will be relieved. And his children—”
Stefano took a sudden step forward. “No! You’ll not…. Gods, Lou, they’re babies.”
“Yes. So a regent will be appointed. I am not suited to that role, nor do I wish to have it cast upon me. But if you were already ruling Fraysia, it would make perfect sense for you to be regent as well. You would perform acceptably in that role. And you would help guide Philip’s heir along the proper path so that he does not become like his father. ”
Uttering a small distressed noise, Stefano wobbled forward and sat heavily on the bench.
Imprisonment or death on the one hand; a false marriage, fratricide, and an unwanted crown on the other.
Either possibility horrified Henry, but Stefano must have been even more deeply affected.
Henry wanted very badly to comfort him, but Stefano wouldn’t want that with Louis watching.
And besides, what could Henry truly offer aside from empty words?
Relentless, Louis came around the bench to stare at Stefano. “You must decide now. Father will be demanding an audience this evening.”
“I can’t.” Stefano sounded broken. It reminded Henry of the first time he’d been whipped, when Stefano—still a young boy—had collapsed with wracking sobs. His eyes had taken on a haunted quality that day, a quality that had never entirely faded.
Of course, Louis didn’t care about that. “Stop being a coward.”
Stefano leapt to his feet and charged toward Louis, who didn’t back away. “Stop treating me like a game piece! I am a person with wants of his own. And none of them are anything like what you lot have planned for me. Can’t you just leave me be?”
“No.”
Such a small word, yet it made Henry want to scream with rage.
He had to play the obedient servant, however, keep his distance from the brothers, keep his expression neutral, keep his mouth closed.
Regardless of what Stefano did, Louis likely wouldn’t let Henry live.
After all, Henry had just heard his plans for regicide.
But Henry couldn’t imagine going on with his own life without Stefano, so perhaps that was just as well.
“I ask you one final time,” said Louis. “Will you marry the princess?”
Gods, if Stefano would only say yes, it would buy them some time. If Henry tried again, he might be able to persuade Stefano to leave the kingdom. Assuming Henry lived long enough to make the effort.
But Stefano shook his head as he answered. “No.”
Perhaps Louis was truly sorrowful about this response, or perhaps he decided to pretend as if that were so.
The corners of his mouth turned down and he sighed, and for a moment Henry saw his younger self.
He was only two years older than Stefano and, when Henry first came to the palace, Louis and Stefano had lessons together.
Louis hadn’t been friendly to Henry, but he also hadn’t objected to Henry joining them.
And occasionally, when Stefano’s mind wandered too far from his tasks or he became overwhelmed with numbers and equations, Louis had helped.
Those bits of assistance had saved Stefano from chastisement—and saved Henry from whippings.
Then Louis’s momentary youthful softness fled as if it had never existed, and he gave a curt nod. “I wish we had not come to this point.”
The air suddenly became still, the birds and insects fell silent, and the scents of mud and decay hit Henry so strongly that he nearly gagged. Louis lifted a hand and pointed a single finger at Stefano.
“No!” Henry cried, surging forward.
But he was too late.
A flash of light, as bright as the sun, blinded him, and a roar deafened his ears as he collapsed onto his hands and knees.
By the time he’d scrambled back to his feet and blinked his vision clear, Stefano was gone.
Henry bellowed and launched himself at Louis, easily hurdling the stone bench along the way. He had no weapons, so his hands would have to do. He would tear Louis to pieces and—
He lost all control of his body and fell to the ground on his back.
This time he could see and hear perfectly well, could feel the discomfort of one leg twisted awkwardly, but he couldn’t move anything except his eyes and mouth.
That meant his vision was limited to only a patch of blue sky—until Louis stepped closer.
“Bastard,” Henry growled. “Murdering bastard! He was your brother and he never harmed anyone. He was smart and kind and worth more than all the rest of you combined, and—”