24 | glory

To my dear sister the Queen,

       The phoenix smiles upon us. We have defeated the Terrawinian troops, and it will take years for them to recover from this loss. However, the coward Henri du Terre lives, presumably running for his life with his tail wagging between his legs. 

  We have captured the cities of Irakli and Valenfort, thus dividing Terrawyn into half. The King has been informed about this, though I fear that he might order us to return these territories for the sake of peacemaking. But this is our chance to finally conquer the continent, to form a whole, united Great Phoenicia. Isn't that grand ? Annie, I implore you to persuade him, for the better of the kingdom. Burn this.

Your brother, Gilbert


I threw the slip of parchment into the fireplace, allowing it to be engulfed by flames, where it withered into unrecognisable slivers of ash. My brother's words however, linger in my mind still.

        A whole, united Great Phoenicia. It sounded grand indeed. When that day comes, Edmund and I shall rule supreme on this massive continent, and my family's power will soon become unshakeable.

The three red barbed roses of the du Terres will be forgotten, and only the Winterbourne periwinkle may flourish on this soil.

             "Have you heard from your brother, Anne ?" Edmund says as he walks into the room, eyes full of inquisitiveness. 

              "I have," I respond, my lips curving into a smile. "A splendid victory, isn't it ? Margaret will never dare to go against you again."

Edmund smiles as he settles on the seat beside me. "There is also the matter of the territories that had been captured, Anne," he begins with a frown, and I began to fear for the worst.

                "You can't possibly be thinking about giving it back," I say with a frown.

                "No, of course not," my husband refutes. "Actually, I plan on bestowing the title of the Duke of Irakli on my nephew, Edgar. What do you think, Anne ?"

                 "That'd be wonderful," I say curtly. "If he has a title of his own, then his mother would stop reaching out for what rightfully belongs to my daughter."

                  "She will stop eventually when our son is born," Edmund affirmed fondly as he stroked my stomach.

I had discovered that I was pregnant just a little over a week ago, and this time I am certain that it is a boy. "When your brother returns, he will be granted a reward for his bold efforts. He shall be made Duke of Sutherland."

I promptly turned away, staring at him with disbelief. My brother had performed a great deed for this kingdom, and all he gets is a wasteland.

Sutherland was essentially a wasteland, with no gold or diamond mines, no fertile land to plant produce, and the surrounding sea was all muddy and brown in summer, and in the rainy seasons, the waves would be so big that you would think the end days have come.

                    "Sutherland ?" I repeated. "If that's all he is going to get, then you might as well not give him anything. The land is barren, trade is nonexistent, and the people are stubbornly loyal to the previous king. And they hate us Winterbournes!"

Edmund smiles. "Rhyland was in the same state before your ancestors rose to power. Gilbert is a Winterbourne, no ? If all your ancestors before you could do it, why can't Gilbert ?"

            My brother and his army returned to the capital in great splendour and glory, our Winterbourne periwinkle blooming full of life on every flag and banner, though he took care to ensure that it did not overshine the Chauvelot sun.

Gilbert strides into the grand hall, confidence and courage evident in every step that he took. His heavily pregnant wife, Cecily, stands by my side, proudly watching as her husband walks up to the King.

     The Duchy of Sutherland was not the only thing that Edmund planned to bestow on my brother. 

On a blue velvet pillow held by my father, now the Prime Minister, was a blindingly bright silver longsword, its blade needle sharp, and the hilt carved to look like a proud phoenix soaring in the sky.

          Edmund stands up from his throne, and beckons my father to come closer. Gilbert, travel-worn and still donning his bloodstained armor, kneels down before my husband, his head bowed low obediently.

               "Your Majesty, I Gilbert Winterbourne, Commander of the Royal Army, greet you with news of our victory at the northern front!" my brother stated loudly, his voice filling every nook and crevice of the grand hall.

The King smiles. "You have done well, Lord Gilbert," he said serenely. "As a reward for your contribution to our great kingdom, you shall be made the Duke of Sutherland, Lord of the Far South."

My brother's victorious smile immediately faded into shock and confusion, and his periwinkle purple eyes flickered towards me, begging for answers. "I am greatly honoured," he eventually says, the distaste in his voice only thinly veiled.

        The title of made the Duke of Sutherland, Lord of the Far South was indeed a high and noble one, but it also meant that my brother was expected to establish his household there, and there is hardly anything that could be turned into profit for House Winterbourne.

             "However, your level of military prowess is truly unprecedented. Allowing you to remain as a mere commander isn't only injustice to you, but also a great disservice to the citizens of this kingdom. Lord Winterbourne," Edmund calls out, and my father holds out the sword for him to take. "Gilbert Winterbourne, you shall be made the Grand General of the Royal Army."

       The tip of the sword touches either sides of Gilbert's soldiers, and once that was done, he stands up, his eyes brimming with pride and joy. 

       The Blade of the Phoenix was now tightly held in my brother's grasp, and I could see that he was resisting the urge to pull it out of its sheath and use it to chop a wooden dummy's head off. However, no one is ever allowed to bear arms before the King unless there is need for it, so he silently attached it to the side of his waist instead.

               "Long live the King and Queen!" Gilbert's voice boomed, and the attendees followed suit.

           "Long live the King and Queen!"

           "Long live the King and Queen!"

           "Long live the King and Queen!"

I had personally planned the feast welcoming my brother home myself, which likely ired the Hasteburns. After all, the feast welcoming Melissa Hasteburn was called off in the end, and nobody bothered to plan another one for her.

Rupert Hasteburn was especially offended. "The Winterbournes have risen so high, Your Majesty. The Queen, the Prime Minister and the Grand General all hailing from the same family."

       My eyes were watching the dancers in the middle of the room, their bodies swaying to the tune of the lute, and I had not noticed that he was right beside me. I glanced at him wordlessly before continuing to watch the dancing troupe.

             "I wonder how painful it will be to fall from such a high place," he hisses, his beady brown eyes simultaneously narrowing. 

I laugh. My father had warned me about this man and his brother, but I simply could not consider him as a threat.

     Look at him, his shoulders risen so that he looked more powerful and mighty, his hands clasped together to create the image of a calculative mastermind, but I only saw a common merchant who sold his daughter to the King in exchange for titles and power. 

             "I imagine that it must be very painful too," I say with a troubled frown. "But good for you, Lord Hasteburn. You can't fall any lower if you're already in the pits of hell, can you ?" 

     The festivities ended around dusk, and everyone began retiring to their own chambers. I sit on the rounded stool, allowing Argenta to pluck out all the ornaments and flowers in my dark hair. 

               "Your Majesty, have you heard about Princess Margaret's son ?" she suddenly said to me.

               "What about him ?"

Argenta's grey eyes lit up with excitement, and she discarded the combs aside and knelt down on the floor, her head rested on my lap. "As you know, my mother owns a teahouse, and it is a breeding ground for rumours and all that..."

                 "Yes, I do know that," I say with a laugh.

                 "A few days ago, a neutralised Terrawinian from Valenfort City visited the teahouse. She said that she used to be a maid in Princess Margaret's retinue.

      The Princess's son, Prince Charles du Terre, had matured quite early and was thought to be highly intelligent. However, as he grew older, he developed some odd tendencies..."

                 "Such as ?"

                 "The maid said that she saw the Prince pushing one of his little cousins down the stairs, and that he would pluck off the heads of his nightingales. He is only four, but imagine what kind of monster he will be when he grows up ?"

I smiled. "The Terrawinians have been disgraced, and they will never dare to step foot in Phoenicia again. There is no need for you to be afraid of him."

        Argenta giggled sheepishly as she resumed combing my hair, and the room was once again drowned in silence. It did not remain that way for long however. Barely a few moments later, Lillianna burst through the door and rushed towards me.

               "The deposed queen is dying," she whispered into my ear urgently. "They say she will not last to see the next sunrise."

Oh dear, poor Jane. What a pity. Dying alone in a dungeon without anyone beside her, no one to hold her, and no one to comfort her.

           "I will go and see her," I say briskly. "Bring over my finest dress and jewels, I want to look my best when I bid farewell to her."

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