Hi there! Much faster update this time :-)
Only I can't promise new chapters will come much faster than they have lately, but I will try! I wasn't aware the waiting time gets so frustrating. To be honest, lately I've been lacking some inspiration. But I'm sure, once November comes and the show is back on the air, I'll find new motivation to really enjoy writing again.
I hope until then, you'll still stick with this story (even if sometimes it takes me a few weeks to come up with a new chapter). I'm really happy so many of you enjoy it so much!
Thanks & all the best to you!
"Her Majesty must not see this, under no circumstances."
Rachel's voice sounded worried. Extremely worried. Possibly, even more worried than she'd ever heard her before. And they'd been through quite a lot of garbage together.
Liam and Eleanor, Rachael, Lucius, Pryce, her own bodyguard and two other palace officials were standing around the table, hunching over whatever was on top. No one had heard her enter.
"What mustn't I see?"
They quickly turned around, looking shocked.
"Your Majesty!" Rachael said, "You're here."
"Indeed. Thanks for stating the obvious."
She looked from one to the next, all of them trying to hide from her sight what was on the table, none of them finding any clever words to say.
"Allow me to repeat my question. What mustn't I see?"
"Your Majesty need not worry," Lucius answered, "the matter is none of your concern."
"I'd like to see that for myself if I may."
"Mum, please!" begged Eleanor, "You really shouldn't see this."
"I appreciate that, darling."
Rachael tried one more time: "It's purely out of medical concerns, Your Majesty."
"I'm the Queen of England, at least for now, and I won't tolerate secrets around here, medical concerns or not. Now, walk away from that table and let me see this."
Reluctantly, they did. Three photographs were spread out across the tabletop. Helena felt her stomach starting to twist and turn.
Ted Pryce cleared his throat and explained: "Each one was taken a few hours ago, each in a different location around two kilometers from here."
One of the photos was showing the slogan 'Kill the queen, kill the spawn' written in blood on a wall, another showed a graffiti of the Domino symbol she knew all too well by now, the last was another bloody exclamation on a wooden surface: 'Die, Helena, you filthy slut'
Underneath, there was a picture of her with a bloody butcher's knife jutting out of her eye.
She swallowed hard. Pryce continued: "It's pig's blood. We believe that all three are connected and come from the same group or person. Scotland Yard is investigating."
She took a deep breath, put down the photos and looked at him. "Scotland Yard has yet to produce the king's murderer if I'm not mistaken. I would appreciate them concentrating on this rather than the shenanigans of a few drunk teenagers."
"Your Majesty, we believe this threat needs to be taken seriously," said Lucius.
"He's right mum," her daughter added, "You need to go away from here, somewhere where you and the baby are safe."
Pryce shook his head. "There's no place, no matter how secret and hidden, where she will be safer than within these walls. There's more surveillance technology and more security personnel here than anywhere else. Someone is always watching, and always within shouting distance. Unless Her Majesty wants to spend the next weeks locked away in the safe room..."
"But...," Eleanor was not convinced.
"I agree with Ted," said Liam, "Mum will be safest here. All that happened happened outside the palace."
Helena did not appreciate the way they were having this conversation as if she wasn't in the room. But she understood what her son was saying.
"Liam is right. The last thing I'd want to do now is go outside. As much as I don't like the thought of being trapped in here... whether I'm being besieged by paparazzi or people who want to kill me, it doesn't make much of a difference in the end."
Later that night she felt the need to calm her nerves through a quiet evening by the fireplace. Seeing these disturbing images had made her feel more uneasy than she'd like to admit.
Sadly, someone else seemed to have had the same idea before.
"Cyrus... I haven't seen you in a while."
He was just pouring down a glass of scotch and smirked at her as usual. Then he got up from his chair and slowly walked towards her, drops of sweat glistening on his forehead.
She sniffed. "You stink... You're drunk."
"Oh, I'm sorry, too much alcohol in your proximity, Your Majesty? Or are you jealous?"
"Shut up, Cyrus, you don't know what you're talking about."
"While you do have reasons to celebrate, I assume. Your little appearance for the public seems to have made you the single most favorite person on the planet, a goddess, almost. And so I hear, you've even become a popular theme for street artists now."
He laughed, she did not. "Are you behind this?"
"Oh please, you offend me deeply! You know exactly who's behind it. And you know you'll finally get what you deserve. All of you!"
He threw his glass into the fire, shattering and bursting while being engulfed by the flames.
Helena jumped out of her skin for a split second, then tried to compose herself again. He was not to see that he, his words or his ridiculous behavior had any kind of effect on her. She was so far above him, the technically couldn't even see him anymore. All she could do was smell the foul stench of his breath.
"Oh no, it surely wasn't me. If I wanted to hurt you, I'd do it like this..."
Faster than she could conceive, his arms flashed forward and his hands closed around her neck, throttling her. She wanted to scream, but she couldn't. She tried to pull... claw his hands off of her, but he was too strong. There was nothing but rage and hatred left in his eyes. He seemed to have completely lost his senses.
"This pregnancy is going far to well for my taste. God forbid you will actually deliver this little shit! It's time I take the matter into my own hands."
Her eyes were widened in terror as she desperately tried to free herself, clawing at her attacker, scratching his hands and face. Bloody lines ran across his cheeks, but he didn't seem to care, not even as she went for his eyes.
He even laughed about it! "And you know what? I never liked you anyway."
She slowly felt her breath failing, aside from the searing pain in her throat. Colorful spots started dancing in front of her all around Cyrus' face, and she knew that she was about to pass out. What was happening here? Was she dying? Was he killing her? No! No, this was not the end, not like that. Not him! But her previous attempts had been of no avail, she'd have to come up with a different tactic. Only the lack of oxygen inside her head made it almost impossible to think of anything other than... breathe... breathe... air!
Ultimately, in a purely instinctive act, she reached behind her to find a three-hundred year old Ming vase. It shattered into a thousand pieces as it hit him right on the head, and immediately she felt the deadly pressure around her neck subside.
They both fell to the floor, Cyrus unconscious, the queen feverishly gasping for air. Only now the door flew open and Ted Pryce came running in, gun drawn. He saw them both and tried to make sense of the situation. Only seconds later, Liam followed, in apparent shock at what he saw.
Immediately, he was by her side, comforting her.
"Mum! Holy shit, are you okay? What happened?"
She tried to answer, but she couldn't speak, her vocal chords failing her, still gasping for air. Her neck was clearly showing reddish blue marks of strangulation and her eyes were looking weird, on top of that her hand was bleeding, cut open by one of the porcelain shards. Her entire body was shaking and cramping. They both knew: she'd been less than a minute away from death.
Once Liam had called for the emergency doctor of the palace, he walked over to Cyrus, slowly returning to consciousness while being handcuffed by Pryce. If he hadn't been there, Liam would have probably killed his uncle with his bare hands, slowly and painfully, just as he deserved it.
"You... You disgusting... disgraceful bag of scum," his voice was quiet and trembling, he was so angry, shocked and yes, disappointed, even if not really surprised.
"Take him away," he ordered, "Far away. He attempted to kill the queen and the child she's carrying. Royal or not, that should be enough to keep him locked away for quite some time."
Upon the queen's demand, she was not taken to a hospital, but was able to stay inside the palace for treatment and all the checks they deemed necessary to run on mother and child.
It turned out that she had gotten extremely lucky. Aside from the bruises around her neck and the cut on her palm she was okay. And more importantly, the baby was okay. All she was left with was a shock, a terrible headache and a husky voice that made her sound twice as old as her mother.
The doctor ordered her to stay in bed for the next two days to give her body and most of all her mind some rest.
Cyrus, so she had been told, was still in confinement on the palace grounds. One didn't want to drag him to the police and risk alerting the media to what had happened without her approval. Very well done. She indeed had no intention of another scandal of this magnitude demolishing the glorious image of the monarchy that she had just started to build for the people. At least not without careful consideration of all their options. As long as he'd stay securely out of reach to harm her or her children, for now she didn't care where he was. Wherever he was, he could rot to death there!
Eleanor had been quietly crying at her bedside for the last half hour, holding her undamaged hand. Liam was sitting on the other side, deep in thoughts.
Helena gently squeezed her daughter's hand and whispered faintly: "It's okay, darling! It's over now. I'm fine! Nothing happened. In a week or two I'll be as good as new, you'll see. Don't worry."
Liam sighed: "That's not true, mum, and you know it. Just because Cyrus is out of the way, for now, that doesn't mean we're safe, least of all you. There have been serious death threats to you, threats that came from the same people that killed our father! They're still out there. Even though Jasper and I are making good progress in finding dad's killer, we're still in the dark."
"You have to stop doing this!" Helena replied, "You'll only get yourselves in danger. You should stay away from these people, not run towards them. There are numerous experts out to find whoever did it."
"Experts who don't do shit! They will never find dad's killer, but we will. Only we can't do so knowing so little as we do now. I know you know more than you want to admit, mum. You have to tell us everything so we can protect you. What is Domino? Who are these people? And why are they killing our family?"