Chapter 2 The Last Candidate For The Queen

• Back in his study, Lucas leaned against the cold marble window frame when his personal guard, Thomas Fletcher, entered.
• “Your Majesty,” Thomas says, holding a scroll.
• “This was found in the Queen’s room. It bears the name Jurua… written in blood.”
• Lucas’s jaw tightened.
• He stares at the blood-stained scroll. The word Jurua is scrawled across it in a trembling hand—blood-red.
• “It is similar with the ones found on the other Queens and has the same handwriting.” Thomas informs him.
• “It is the same culprit.” Lucas notes and Thomas nods in agreement.
• ”Someone is really trying to cause an uproar with the issue of the Queen’s death.”
• Lucas narrows his eyes, furious and restless.
• The last two Queens were also murdered in cold blood like Henrietta and it was rage filled. If he didn’t know better, he will truly believe it’s really he curse of the priest from five years ago.
• But one thing is clear, and that is, whoever is responsible lives in his palace or knows his way quite well and wants to cause an uproar with the issue of the dragon curse.
• ”Your Majesty, I will begin investigation with everyone that attended the banquet.” Thomas says, but Lucas stops him.
• Everyone already believes it’s the curse and many are living in fear. Investigating will only make things worse.
• “Rather than that,” Lucas replies,
• “Investigate those in the palace first, including all the maids and servants.” he instruct and Thomas bows and turns to leave immediately.
• “Do it quietly.” Lucas adds before he exit the room.
• Alone, Lucas leans back in his chair, eyes locked on the scroll. His face unreadable.
• He tapped the table, mind reeling and pondered on who dares to continue to use the dragon’s name to stir up trouble.
• If the Queens are the only ones dying then it will make sense, but the families of the Queens get into one mishap or the other before or after getting crowned.
• Lucas recalls the decree from his late father before he died. Any Queen that will be crowned as his wife must come from noble families with no political influence—merchants, farmers, tradesmen, soldiers.
• Henrietta’s family had been soldiers, wiped out by bandits days after her coronation. The previous Queen hailed from a family of horse traders. The first was the granddaughter of an ex-general. The family is known to have the best weapons.
• After the three of them, there is only one family left, the Markham Family.
• “Someone there!”
• Lucas calls for Robert, another one of his commanders.
• “Before the Queen is buried tonight, have the physician check to see if there is anything else aside the wound from the knife.” he says flatly.
• “Yes, Your Majesty.”
• As the door shuts behind him, Lucas folds his hands and exhales. The fire in his eyes burns hotter than ever.
• ~
• Markham’s manor.
• The Markham mansion stands like a monument carved from wealth and history.
• Towering archways crowned with gold filigree frame windows draped in velvet, the color of crushed rubies.
• White marble lions guard the staircases at the entrance, and ivy snakes up pillars that line the expansive estate. The air smells of roses and ancient coins—a scent only the rich seem to own.
• The walls are etched with gold-leaf murals telling tales of valor and wealth, and chandeliers hang like frozen galaxies from every ceiling. The Markhams are not just noble—they are untouchable, the richest family in Eldrid.
• One can say they are the Kingdom’s royalty in all but name.
• In the eastern wing of the mansion, Emilia Markham stirs from her slumber.
• Sunlight filters through her velvet curtains, pooling like molten gold across her bed.
• She stretches lazily, her silken sheets falling away from her shoulders as golden sunlight filters through the diamond-cut glass windows.
• She blinks groggily, shielding her eyes, then clears her throat.
• "June! Alice!" she calls out.
• Still sleepy, Emilia moves to sit up.
• Crossing to the vanity table, she sits in a golden chair with carved lion heads on the arms, she closes her eyes briefly, the breeze brushing against her delicate skin.
• She reaches her hand out and pours herself a glass of water from a gilded pitcher.
• She blows gently on it before taking a sip, then crosses her legs, revealing flawless porcelain skin kissed with the sun.
• Her maids rush in moments later, dropping to their knees in perfect sync with their heads bowed.
• Emilia nods once, and Alice immediately moves behind her to begin massaging her shoulders, while June remains kneeling in front of her, nervous.
• "What time is it?" Emilia asks, voice still coated in sleep.
• "Almost one in the afternoon, my lady," June replies, taking the empty glass and filling it anew.
• June hesitates, eyes cast low.
• "My lady…"
• Emilia sighs.
• "Just say it."
• "We’ve received word... the discussion of your marriage to the King has been finalized in court today."
• The glass nearly lips from Emilia’s fingers.
• "What?!" she breathes, rising to her feet, her voice echoing in the high-ceiling-ed chamber.
• “How could that happen?”
• Neither maid has an answer for her.
• Of course, they all knew this marriage was a possibility. Ever since Queen Henrietta’s mysterious death three months ago, everyone has been whispering that she is to become the next Queen.
• Her family is the only one left who hasn’t honored the decree.
• But Emilia had begged her father, demanded even that he do everything in his power to break off the promise with their family, but it didn’t work.
• "Where did you hear this?" Emilia demands.
• "The servants were whispering," Alice replies.
• "And... the Queen Mother has invited you and the matriarch to the palace for a banquet tonight." June adds.
• Emilia sinks back into her chair, horror spreading across her face. Her heart pounds.
• This cannot be happening.