Lilac Grimwood’s arrival in our world was nearly twenty years after I became king of Doma, and prior to that, I’d like to think I’d done a good job as ruler. Unfortunately, not everyone saw it that way, and there was a faction of nobles that seemed intent on seeing me abdicate. None of them had ever been so bold as to oppose me directly, but there had been hidden signs. Luckily, my kingdom had a robust and trustworthy information network. In over three hundred years, this kingdom had yet to see a king overthrown, and the existence of our underground covert operatives played a huge role in that. They had eyes and ears everywhere, and kept the king well-informed about those with ill intentions.
Lately they bring a great deal of news about my elder brother.
My brother Finlaud was older than me by around two years, and as a child, he always believed he’d be king one day. In our youth he often competed with me, eager to prove his prowess. Unfortunately he had a very slight build, and quickly realized he was mostly inept in battle. Undeterred, he took to learning strategy: If he couldn’t lead troops from the front, he’d command them from the rear. He studied everything he could in an effort to become a great military leader. Sadly—at least from his perspective—our country had known very little violence since it was founded three hundred years ago.
Geographically, we were situated at the southern end of the continent of Ausbarl, and to our north lay the expansive Grimwood region. Since the forest acted as a natural deterrent to our northern neighbors, no foreign power had ever once attempted an invasion in our three-hundred-year history. Our coastline was mostly made up of sheer cliffs, so there weren’t many places an enemy force could make landfall by sea. Those that did exist were well fortified and defended. Even if an enemy were foolish enough to overlook that, the deeper parts of the oceans were full of gigantic monstrosities that could sink even the sturdiest warships. The only boats that ever made it to port were small, agile skimmers that stuck near the coast. So my brother eventually realized he would never gain any glory in war.
The war stories he was so fond of as a child were all from before the founding, when our forefathers unified the southern part of the continent. Since history was written by the victors, it was hard to say if my ancestors were righteous or not, but ultimately, regardless of their intentions, Doma was founded as a single unified nation at the southern edge of the continent. Some of the noble families in the kingdom carried within them the lineages of the rulers of the countries Doma had absorbed, and many of them despised the crown for stealing away their birthright, though they never admitted so publicly. Finlaud was drawn to these self-important nobles, and befriended them. If there was one area he was gifted in, it was managing the aristocracy. However, this wasn’t necessarily a good thing.
Ultimately, our father determined that Finlaud was ill-suited to ruling a country. My brother often made comments about commoners that made it clear he saw them as less than human. He’d boast loudly and often about what sorts of new laws he wanted to put in place as king, and they were usually terrible. Father tried time and again to correct him, but Finlaud refused to change his ways. He saw the people as tools to be used, mere pieces on a game board for him to move. That was not the proper mindset for a king. When my father inevitably named me as his heir, Finlaud was devastated.
I was certain he felt blindsided and betrayed, but it was his own fault. If he’d applied himself to learning about what it meant to rule a kingdom, instead of what it took to defeat an enemy or how to win over the noble class, he could have been a wonderful king.
Since then, though, his desire for the throne had never waned. After my coronation, whenever I met with an informant from the kingdom’s information network in secret, my brother was invariably the primary topic of conversation.
“Duke Finlaud has dispatched the vast majority of his forces, around eighty percent, to the Grimwood, to retrieve this so-called queen,” my informant reported. “It’s been nearly two weeks since they left. The spies near your brother report that he grows more anxious by the day. With all the military strategy he’s studied, he should know how long it takes to move a force like that.”
I sighed. “What are the chances he’s trying to do only what’s best for the kingdom, and isn’t plotting anything beyond that?”
“Close to zero, Your Majesty.”
“I feared as much. I never thought Finlaud’s desire to prove himself would lead him to such rash action. In our kingdom’s rich history, many men have sent armies into the Grimwood, to try and cull the monsters there. Every single attempt ended in disaster. Does this queen really have the ability to change the situation there?”
“Duke Finlaud certainly seems to think so. Either that, or he hopes to turn her against you somehow. We’ve received reports about the towers this little queen supposedly created. More and more of them continue to appear in the Grimwood. Every time our scouts survey the area, they find at least half a dozen that weren’t there when they last checked. The monsters inside become stronger as the tower gets taller, from what we’ve been able to determine. We’ve yet to confirm any of the semi-spherical monsters leaving the towers. They seem to have their own territories inside that they won’t move away from. Regardless of how many of them are killed, the monsters eventually return as though nothing happened.”
“Have any of your scouts or spies actually seen this queen?” I asked.
“Unfortunately, when she was imprisoned she was held in the deepest dungeon the duke could spare, with only a single guard. We couldn’t get anyone close enough to get a look at her. We thought we had an opportunity when one of the guards arrived for his shift drunk, but apparently the queen used that same happening to escape. We’ve been unable to verify exactly how she got out.”
“I feel as though my brother is playing with fire. He won’t understand that he’s not really in control until everything he’s worked for has been consumed by the flames.” I frowned. “Do everything you can to contact this little queen. The future of the kingdom may depend on what sort of relationship we forge with her. We can’t allow my brother to be the one to represent the kingdom in this matter. Tell your men they are authorized to arrest him should he show any overt signs of treason—in the worst-case scenario, they may execute him on the spot. That is how dire the situation has become. I will bear full responsibility should it come to that.”
“You needn’t worry; if it comes to that, we will take measures to ensure that a suitable culprit is held accountable.”
“A ‘suitable culprit’?” I repeated, uneasy.
“One of the nobles who conspire against the crown, of course. There are any number of ways to pin the blame on those treasonous cowards.”
“I-I see. I shall leave it to you then.”
It was always a bit unnerving when one of my agents casually mentioned doing something like that. To them, it was business as usual, the type of thing their ancestors did time and again to safeguard the kingdom. To me, it was an unsavory yet necessary truth. The ugly dark side of being a monarch. My brother was totally unaware of its existence—otherwise he might have been more cautious about what he said, and who he spoke to.
I felt as though he was tightening the noose around his own neck, and I could do nothing but watch. It still grieved me. Even though he would gladly wish the same on me, he was still my brother. To disregard such ties entirely took more courage than I could muster.
Still, if my brother held aspirations for the throne, that meant he wanted not only me out of the way, but my children as well—and I would never allow that. No matter what sort of devious plan he had in store, I would protect my children and this kingdom with my very life. Even if it meant history would look back and say I was underhanded, I would not allow harm to come to either.
I couldn’t help but wonder when exactly this ambition began. Was it the very moment father appointed me as his successor, or did he waver a bit first, thinking he might have to harm his own family? If I was able to speak to him again before this was all over, I supposed I’d have to ask him. I wondered if he would answer me honestly.
Who was this Miss Grimwood? Where did she come from? What were her plans? She could very well be the greatest threat to the kingdom. If only there were a way to invite her here so we could have a discussion. I’d heard she didn’t speak Ausbarlian, as most denizens of the continent did. I believed I had a few court scholars who studied language, though—I could only think that they’d be delighted to speak with her and try to interpret her words.
I’d heard she seemed interested in learning Ausbarlian as well. If I had the chance, I thought, I should try to arrange a meeting. No—I must arrange one, for the future of the kingdom.