“Absolutely Sloshed Edition”
At least this time around I have a good reason for not having time; I went to New Orleans, Louisiana for the weekend to celebrate my cousin’s bachelor party. I’ll be definitely writing about that next weekend. But for now, here’s the next installment of Spectral Crown.
And the preceding chapter.
Spectral Crown, by Andy Sima: Chapter Two
At around the age of my twenty-first birthday, there came a fateful day in which the King and Queen began to look for a wife for their son, Prince Maynard. Perhaps it was something the doctor told them, that no heir could be produced from another blasphemous union between Uradel family. Perhaps it was at Maynard’s behest. Whatever it was that incited the search, one day the Uradels began to search for a suitable continuance of their lineage. To sit by and die off would have been madness. And the task fell to me and my mother, as per usual. The search began at home.
It soon became apparent that the King and Queen were desperate, and they looked towards the valley, the place that they so loathed to visit. They would never have dreamed of marrying their beloved Prince Maynard off to lowly valley-dwellers, had it not been necessary. An heir was required, so a suitable wife would be found.
“Saelac,” the Prince said to me on the first day, “have you heard about Father’s newest endeavor?” The pale-skinned Prince reclined on a sofa that sparkled like fire at dawn, and grasped a gold chalice in his hands. A blood-red liquid filled the glass, and Prince Maynard drained it before falling into a coughing fit. His silken robe, with otter fur edges and embroidered crests, fell loosely about his frail body.
I had no choice but to feign ignorance, for presupposing myself above royalty was an act punishable by whipping. “No, my lord,” I said, and refilled his chalice of wine. I returned to the end of the Prince’s sofa, holding a bottle of wine from some western nation. My own clothing was similar in color and make to the Prince’s, but worn down by use. My boots alone were original, fashioned by my father before his death and fitted with a special knife, a family heirloom.
“I see. Ignorant as always, Saelac,” Prince Maynard said. I gave him nothing in return but an expectant stare. “Anyway, Father wants to find me a wife. It is about time, if I may say so myself. But the good doctor refuses to let them find me a wife in the court. Sad, as I did have my eyes on a pretty girl there. But no matter. These fancies can easily be replaced. And it will be your job, Saelac, to replace them.”
“My job, sir?” I said. This, at least, was new information to me.
“Yes, Saelac, your job. Father wants you and that crone mother of yours to scour this damned valley and find me a suitable wife. If you fail, that is no matter. We will simply send you over the hills to contact one of the neighboring nations. That may even be preferable.” He spoke slowly, drawing out the words, while spinning the wine in his glass. He gave me the impression of one used to having power but never really knowing what to do with it.
“I will not fail, my lord,” I said.
“Oh, you very well may. I half expect you to,” Maynard said. “There may not even be a girl in this valley fit to marry a prince such as myself. My father knows this, too. But, loathe as I am to admit it, you know the people better than we do, Saelac. So Mother is entrusting you and Josefa to find me a bride.” Josefa was my mother’s name.
“When shall I carry out this task, sir?” I asked.
“Now, perhaps. Whenever I am not in need of your services. The sun is still high, is it not? You may yet have opportunities.” Prince Maynard again downed his wine, and I again filled up his glass. The bottle, at this time, was empty. “Oh, shame that such a good wine is gone. It may be ages before this cursed valley works up the funds to purchase another like that.”
“Indeed, my lord,” I said, and moved towards the hallway outside of his room. As I did so, tapestries of lords and ladies from Uradel’s history loomed down on me like vultures from the walls above. Maynard’s room was decorated with the glorious reign of the ever-sickening members of the Uradel family, supposedly to remind Maynard of where he came from and what his family stood for. Whatever that was.
“You know, Saelac, if you wish to begin your search now, you may. I am quite tired of your presence as it is,” Prince Maynard said. “You are dismissed.”
“Thank you, my lord,” I said. I bowed and retreated out of the room.
As I crossed the threshold between the Prince’s room and the hallway beyond, I noticed a change in atmosphere that came with the change in temperature. A fire, one that I had prepared, had been roaring in Maynard’s room during our conversation, but upon exiting his quarters, the heat ended and once again the chilly drafts of Chateau Uradel skimmed over my bones. There could have been a window open, letting in the cool mountain air, or it could have been that this building was particularly ill-equipped at trapping heat. It could have been something else, too.
But crossing the threshold was not only a change in temperature, but a change in wealth, too. For all the trappings of the royal family, the castle was in a sorry state of being. Torches, glowing in the wall sconces, could shed light only so far as the vaulted ceilings allowed, and what they did light up was nothing of value. Stone floors, littered with hay, weaved in and out of the castle, occasionally opening onto a balcony or some better lit part of the castle. Straw and hay littered the floor. The walls were scoured with marks of the ages, and rats and mice hissed somewhere in the shadows.
I made my way down the halls, grasping the empty wine bottle until eventually I found myself at the top of a staircase, leading down into an abyss of half-lit corners and poorly-glazed windows. The staircase, like Maynard’s room, was adorned with cloths and images of Uradel’s history, but these were in a noticeably poorer state than the warm cleanliness of Maynard’s room. The eyes of the deceased nobility, however, had not changed their vulture-like gaze, watching me as I made my way down the stairs. I passed another servant, and we exchanged brief glances and a word of welcome.
The bottom of the stairs, now within the mountain itself, opened up into a cavernous stone area, in which the castle servants had attempted to make a home of sorts. There were more torches and lanterns here than in other parts of the chateau, but they did little to ward off the cloudy darkness that inhabited the structure. I glanced among the many torches, which illuminated for me a scene of kitchens and laundries and forges, servants and attendants and maids. This was the castle’s true useful heart. Fitting, then, that it was worlds away from the court.
I spotted my mother, Josefa, retrieving a set of garments for Queen Annalise. My mother, a tall, thin woman with bony cheeks and deep-set eyes, was dressed similarly to me, in fine silk and colorful clothes handed down by the upper class. They were the only garments fitting of attendants to royalty, and it made us stick out like trees in a field whenever we left the chateau. But the other residents knew us well, as we lived with them and often worked with them.
“Mother,” I said, and touched her arm lightly. She turned to face me, holding her basket of the Queen’s linens with pursed lips and tight eyes. “I’m going into town. Prince Maynard wishes you to accompany me.”
“Ay, boy, when will they learn I am no use outside of the castle?” she said to me, sighing. “These old bones are too frail to do anything.”
“Not as frail as the nobles,” I responded, forcing a smile. My mother lightened up a little, and somewhere in the castle’s throbbing heart, a servant snorted in agreement.
“You’re right about that, for sure,” someone said. “You’re as strong as an ox, Josefa.”
“Oh, you flatter me,” my mother said, smiling. Then, turning to me, she said, “Alright, I’ll be ready in a minute. Let me return these to the Queen and take my leave of her, and then we can go.”
“Thank you, mother,” I said. “Do you want me to carry the basket up the stairs for you?”
“No, I can manage,” she said. “I am strong as an ox, as Rudolf tells me.” She chuckled quietly. “What is he playing at, that man?”
“I could not tell you, and I doubt Rudolf could, either,” I responded as we made our way back to the staircase and up into the vessels leading away from the heart.
“What is it, then, that they want you to find in town, anyway?” My mother asked.
“A wife,” I responded.
“A wife? For whom? For you?” She asked
“No, mother, for Maynard,” I explained. “They require an heir, as I’m sure you’ve heard.”
“Yes, yes, I suppose Maynard is about that age now. They will want an heir, won’t they? Can’t let themselves die in peace and let us live in the valley, hm?”
“No, I suppose not, mother.”
“As was to be expected from such fools as them. They think they can live forever with the right blood. Oh well. It isn’t my place to question.”
“I believe we have the right to question,” I said.
“The right as given by our creator, maybe,” my mother responded. “But not as given by the Uradel family. Best to keep quiet.”
“I suppose. If it will buy us another day.”
“Indeed it will,” she said, and the conversation lapsed into silence as we trudged up the stairs towards the King and Queen’s chambers. “Saelac, when do you intend to find a wife for yourself?”
“A wife? I don’t suppose I know. Soon, perhaps,” I replied.
“You waste time, Saelac. You should find a wife soon, before I am dead and you are too old. You are a worthy husband for any of the women in this castle, or in the valley. Neither of us will get any younger.”
“This is true. I am a man now. I may not have many good years left.” Be that as it was, I did not want a wife.
“Yes, so it will be better for you to find one soon. Perhaps you may find one while you are searching for a wife for Maynard.”
“Perhaps so. It would be fortunate.”
“Fortunate, indeed. But fortune is not often our hand to play,” my mother said. I merely huffed in agreement, as we had reached the top floor, the landing of the King and Queen’s quarters.
“You wait outside. I will deliver these to the Queen, and we may leave,” she said, and knocked on the massive door that lead to the deeper insides of the castle. “My mistress, I have your garments, cleaned as you requested.”
From behind the door, there came a raspy voice, as of paper blown on empty breezes. “Come in, Josefa, come in.” My mother opened the door.
Like mother like son, Queen Annalise was reclined on a couch coated in fine leathers and clothes, a glass of red wine in her hand. She, like her son and husband, had pale skin and reedy arms and legs, not unlike a scarecrow out in the fields down in the valley. The nobility seemed to give off a faint, unearthly blue glow, as if their very souls were just beneath the film of their skin.
I stayed just outside the door, as I had not been beckoned into the room. It would have been rude, perhaps even punishable, to enter without being bidden.
“Where would you like these, madam?” My mother asked the Queen.
“Oh, in the chest, as always,” Queen Annalise said. “Say, Josefa, have you yet been informed about your son’s task?”
“No, my lady,” my mother lied, putting away dresses into the chest.
“Your son has been tasked with finding Maynard a wife,” the Queen said. “And I would like you to go with him.”
“Yes, my lady,” my mother said, finishing up her task and standing before the Queen once again.
“In fact, I have some words for him. Requests, of a sort. Would you fetch him?” the Uradel queen asked.
“He is just outside this door, my lady,” my mother said, eyes staring at the floor.
“Ah, good,” Annalise said. “Young man, please come in. Saelac, was it?”
I entered the bright room, and like the doorway in Maynard’s room, the King and Queen’s quarters had a definite shift from the hallway outside. “Yes, my lady, my name is Saelac Bergmann.”
“Saelac. What a strange name. I suppose your mother gave you that name?” The queen said.
“My father, actually,” I said. “When he was alive.”
“Ah, I remember your father. Interesting man. I do not miss him, and neither should you. He was lazy and not useful to our court.” The Queen said, rolling the words off her tongue and into my heart. The words ignited something. Flames, long just embers, began to burn ever so small in my chest. But neither I nor my mother made any outward reaction.
“Well, Saelac,” the Queen said, continuing after a slight pause, in which she observed her wine glass, “when you visit the valley to find a wife for my Maynard, I want you to keep certain details in mind. This girl must be strong of mind, body, and spirit, someone worthy of status of royalty.” So everything you are not, I said to myself. “This girl must also come from a family of some wealth. Preferably the Schulze family. They are still wealthy, are they not?”
“Yes, they are, my lady,” I said.
“Good. Begin there. If they should refuse, offer them some sort of… incentive, perhaps. Whatever you deem fit and reasonable to entice them. If they should still refuse, and no one else in Uradel fits my regulations, then return with the news, and we shall search outside of Stalpert Valley. Is this understood?”
“Yes, my lady,” I said.
“Good. Josefa, you and your son know the valley best. I am entrusting you with this task because of it. Do not fail me,” the Queen said.
“We will not fail, my lady,” my mother said.
“Good. Now go. You are dismissed,” Queen Annalise said. She sipped her wine quietly as we exited her chambers. But before we shut the door, she had one more message for us.
“Oh, Saelac, one more thing of note,” she said. I turned around to address her.
“Yes, my lady?” I said.
“The Uradel line depends on this. Depends on you. God help us all.” She paused, and took a long, pained draught from her glass of wine. “You may go.”
“Yes, my Queen,” I said, and as I turned back towards the great spiral staircase, the wooden door behind closed with a sound of dead trees in a storm.
The next chapter probably coming soon…?
