"The Horror in the Bedroom"
While still before dawn, Eleonora, along with the entire bedroom wing, was awakened by the sound of the loudest, most horrified, and most anguished scream that both the guests and the servants had ever heard in their entire lives.
The castle watchmen snapped alert first, realizing it was coming from the royal bedroom. They quickly rushed to the doors and began to bang on them, calling in if something was wrong. All they heard were more sounds of crying out and misery from within, sounding like a woman alternating between wild sobs and screams. They tried the door, found it locked, and began to get out the skeleton key. By that point, doors up and down the hall were open, including Eleonora's, watching what was happening. A moment later, the watchmen undid the lock and opened the door. The one in the lead barely stepped into the threshold before the queen mother and the others saw his pupils shrink into pinpricks, and he stepped back and muttered a prayer in Latin. His partner looked inside, only to immediately cross himself and say a prayer of his own.
Eleonora quickly ducked into her room, threw on a robe, and stepped out entirely. Other watchmen were arriving as well by now and many of the guests were returning to their rooms to put something on as well, but she arrived to the doorway first and, mostly boldly, stepped right through the threshold and into the chamber.
For the first time in years, Eleonora saw something that broke her proud, firm demeanor and made her gasp in horror.
Standing to the side of the bed, stunned in open-mouthed silence, eyes filled with shock, anguish, fear, and confusion, was Samuel. He was practically immobile, unable to think or speak at what he was looking at. Costanza was practically clutched into a ball, her own eyes quivering with terror and streaming tears. Mottled around the entire lower half of her face was blood, but not her own. The bedsheets and her pillowcase were mottled with much the same, along with bloody streaks from where she had knocked off several pieces of broken, gnawed bone onto the floor. The bassinet near her bedside had been knocked over in alarm, but the insides were so soaked with blood there had practically been a puddle there.
As for the bone pieces themselves, based on several of them, especially an almost intact upper skull, they belonged to a human baby.
Eleonora almost couldn't breathe. As she stood there staring, a new group of watchmen came in and entered after her, but at what they saw they cringed and stepped backward. More soon began to arrive in the hall, but along with them came more noblemen and women. After a time, the queen mother heard the sounds of some pushing and insistence from Lorenzo. He had already been awake and dressed by the time the cry went out and he gain entry after a moment, and let out an audible gasp of his own once he did. While in the halls people began to murmur about what had happened, everyone who could actually see it was stunned into silence.
Costanza's hands, covered with blood, were shaking like leaves in the wind. She held them in front of her and stared at them like nightmarish things. Every breath she made was a strained, miserable sound.
Samuel finally regained enough of himself to move. He walked toward her side of the bed and looked down at her. Her own eyes didn't look up. They stayed transfixed on her bloody hands and the gruesome remains around her. He barely seemed to see her as his hands reached out and placed themselves on her shoulders. It wasn't meant to be a comforting gesture this time. He clutched them hard.
"What have you done?" he half-muttered, barely aware of what he was saying.
Costanza's mouth hung open, not making a noise as she kept glaring at the blood. Slowly, her head began to move in what was a head shake.
Samuel suddenly dug his fingers into her shoulders and gave her a violent shake. "What have you done?!"
His own scream snapped something in her. As she began to cry aloud again, she frantically and furiously shook her head "no" as many times as she possibly could. Samuel only grasped her all the stronger, his own face wild and bordering on fury and devastation.
The scream snapped the rest of the room out of it. Lorenzo cupped his hand to his mouth for a moment before pulling it away. "Merciful heavens…she tore her own son to pieces and devoured him in the night… She's a demon…"
This was just loud enough for those in the doorway to hear. The watchmen immediately looked up and told it to their brethren, and in seconds it was spreading through the hall beyond. Soon cries of shock and horror from the nobles began to follow it. Eleonora stared at the gruesome remains a moment, her own eyes still wide and her own composure still stunned, but she pulled herself together quickly. Tightening her jaw and expression and resuming her former look, she turned to the watchmen in the room and pointed.
She spoke in a stiff voice pushed through almost clenched teeth. "Throw that…disgusting…unholy…thing into the dungeon."
At the command of the queen mother, the watchmen broke out of their own posture. Quickly nodding, they advanced at once upon the king and queen. He was still staring at her and clutching her, apoplectic in shock. When they reached him and began to grab her, he held her only a moment; his eyes transfixed on the blood and remains about her. His grip loosened enough for them to pry her loose soon after. Even then, he wouldn't step away from her side, but he didn't need to. The watchmen violently seized her hard enough to bruise her arms and drug her off of the bed like a wild animal. They didn't even try to be gentle as they started to drag her along the floor.
She kept crying and shaking her head at them frantically, but none of them paid her any mind. Samuel himself slumped, letting his hands fall and staring at the grotesque stains on the bed. Although Costanza looked back to him and shook her head even more fiercely, he didn't look back to her. Only at the mattress.
"Never before have I seen anything so despicably ungodly…" Lorenzo muttered aloud as she was dragged toward the threshold. Immediately, the other watchmen and nobles alike pulled away from her. One of them fainted dead away on seeing the blood still around her mouth. Others crossed themselves as if warding off evil. Between the look on her face and the stains, she didn't even look like a civilized human being anymore but a deranged savage.
Lorenzo himself looked back to the room and the bassinet. "I didn't think such evil could exist among women… There is no question she is a witch and a devil now, though." He glanced back around the room, and looked to the table. The floral shirts were still there, with the nearly-finished one on the couch.
He sneered at them. "And no question that these are unholy acts of witchcraft." He turned to some of the other watchmen, pointing to them. "Take those wretched things and have them destroyed."
Costanza snapped out of her anguish at that, whirling around at the command. She saw watchmen already coming in for them, and in moments saw them beginning to uneasily gather them up, being afraid to even touch them.
Quickly, she stared at Lorenzo and shook her head more fiercely and frantically, but he wouldn't even look at her. She tried looking to other people, but anyone who would look back at her refused to pay her any mind. Suddenly, she snapped back against her captors with surprising force for her weak frame and constitution. The men holding her suddenly found herself nearly wrenching free as she glared at the shirts desperately, struggling to force her body toward them, almost ready to dislocate her shoulders going for them.
A third watchman stepped forward and struck her hard across the side of her face, loud enough for a smack to resound through the chamber. The sound of the strike snapped Samuel's own head up as he looked back at her. Her body nearly collapsed under the power of the blow, poorly constituted as it was. In spite his own anguish, one of his hands reflexively raised toward her ever so slightly. But while his lips parted, he said nothing. Just watched as she nearly slammed against the floor. A moment later, she was dragged out again by the watchmen. Blood of her own now coming from a split lip, she weakly looked out to the shirts and stretched for them, but was powerless as she was taken away. The floral garments soon followed.
As those in the hall immediately began to talk among themselves about what had just happened, Lorenzo turned to follow the men out. Eleonora herself stood as still and impassive as a statue, her eyes never leaving her son or the blood and bone around him. Samuel himself kept his eyes on the doorway.
She finally stepped forward. She didn't say a word, but her face softened just slightly. She reached behind him, and slowly placed her hands on his shoulders in a gesture of comfort.
The moment her fingertips touched his back, he immediately rose up, pulled himself away from her touch, and walked away to the dressing room. He didn't say a word and he didn't look at her once.
Eleonora's own lips parted when that happened, and she was left standing alone in the ghastly bedroom with her hands still frozen where they had reached for him.
When Samuel walked into the council chamber about three hours later, all gathered turned to the door the instant it opened and looked to see how he was doing in the wake of the horrific morning. He was definitely quieter and more morose than he was normally, which was to be expected, but he was far more composed. In spite of the grief he had to be feeling right now as well as the horror, he had managed to wash and dress himself enough for propriety's sake. He didn't give the normal greeting, however. When they arose on his entrance, he simply gave them a short nod to tell them to sit again. After that, he went to his own high-backed chair and sat quietly.
Once there, his head bowed. The men in the room were quiet and patient. He at one point tried to speak, but choked himself off.
"Please, sire," Lorenzo spoke up from his right, "take all the time you need."
He paused a moment longer before he finally smoothed out enough to look up. While his face was washed, his own eyes were irritated, and it was clear it had taken him some time to calm down again before this meeting.
"Thank you, but…I'll be alright. I may be a father and a husband, but I am king as well, after all."
Lorenzo grimaced but ruefully nodded, as did several of the older advisors.
Adjusting in his seat, he turned to the chief jailor. An older and more "down-to-earth" man who got his position from skill rather than from education or parentage, he was the gruffest and most unsavory of the individuals at the table. "How…is she?"
"The guards say she was fighting at first, but then just started blubbering the whole way to the dungeon. We rinsed the filth off of her, threw her in a cell, chained her to a wall, and then left her. Since then all she's done is cry or hang her head down, except when she was questioned."
Samuel turned to the chief of the guard at that. "And what did she say…I mean, how did she answer?"
The man had his arms crossed and was frowning. "Exactly as I expected. Denies the whole thing, of course. When we asked her if she a…" He trailed off, realizing who he was speaking too, and grimaced a bit. "If she committed the crime, she denied it. When we asked if she knew who did or how the…" Again, he winced. "The remains ended up around her mouth and some of the bones in her grip, she shook her head. No reason to question any further."
The king's head bowed again. He burned a hole into the table with his eyes, thoughts clearly running through his brain, before he closed his eyes and exhaled.
"Alright…there's no reason to keep the guests here any longer." He smirked bitterly. "After all, I'm without a son to show off to them, aren't I?"
The table winced a little. The last two words were with a pained choke.
"As soon as they're gone, we'll convene court and get to the bottom of this. I don't want to delay it any more than needs to be done…"
"Pardon me, milord."
He looked up and to Lorenzo, his face looking just a tiny bit uneasy.
"I am not so certain that there needs to be such a delay. I feel that there is sufficient evidence for a verdict and sentence to be handed down now."
Samuel looked up a bit more at that, giving just the slightest hint of a start. The rest at the table picked up on that. And when they did, many of them had to stiffen their own faces.
"Excuse me?"
Lorenzo shrugged. "We have everything we need already. The finger markings on the remains show she had the…the pieces in her hands when she woke up. The blood is on her mouth. All evidence of her guilt points to her. Now, she claims that she didn't do it. That would mean someone else would have, correct?" He turned to the chief of the guard again. "You questioned the head servant and the night watchmen already, yes?"
He nodded. "They saw no one approach the door all night, but even if they had there would have been no issue. Your door was locked last night, my lord, and none except you and the attending watchman has a key. They vouch that the key never came near your door until this morning."
Lorenzo turned back. "There, my lord, you see? This is, I'm afraid, a fairly clear cut case."
Samuel paused. "And can those men collaborate those stories? Can they truly vouch for each other throughout the night?"
Lorenzo let out a small sigh. The chief of the guard nodded. "They can. With this many guests here, each one had at least three sets of eyes on them at all hours."
"And they're certain they didn't put their key aside for any length of time?"
"Of course. It's fixed to an iron ring at their belts."
"And no one could have lifted it?"
"Sire…" Lorenzo began to speak up.
"And there's no other key in the house? None whatsoever? None could have been made?"
The chief of the guard grimaced a little. "I…I suppose it's possible, but very unlikely. Pursuing it is grasping at straws…"
"My lord…" Lorenzo's voice grew louder yet.
"There are only three keys of the same kind? The one I have, the one my wife has, and the one entrusted to the guard? No…no wait, there's another. What about the one my mother ha-"
"My lord!"
The voice was nearly an angry shout, in spite of being insolence. Everyone turned at once to Lorenzo. His glared at the king and almost livid as he sat up in his seat.
"I have withstood this for an entire year and I cannot any longer. I must on this one occasion be insubordinate and speak my mind or I feel my heart will burst. I understand you're grieving. I understand you feel betrayed. I can even force myself to understand why you would keep that devil in your house or, if nothing else, to see why you would delude yourself into thinking she was somehow an innocent maiden. But I will not, even under pain of death, pretend to endure you sitting there and even give the merest suggestion of such slander and evil from your own mother. I served that woman for her entire time in this castle and there is no more pious or noble soul than hers. And if you are seriously suggesting she would have the slightest to do with this ungodly act of a satanic trollop I would indeed declare you driven quite mad with passion, and none here would disagree with me."
The chamber was silent. Samuel stared at Lorenzo but did not contradict him. His own gaze slowly lowered back to the table.
The older man eased slightly, softening his voice. "My lord…it is time to simply face the truth. The entire court and anyone who has ever had to deal with her believed there was something wrong with your wife, and this morning has sadly justified those fears. It's clear now that she is evil and has to be destroyed. An abomination like this has never been heard of before. It's so revolting and despicable that there can be only one punishment and it must be immediate. Everyone in the court agrees on it. She's a witch, a daughter of darkness, and she must be purged from this kingdom. The only one in the entire castle who doesn't realize that is you. Everyone else has had misgivings of her since the day she appeared. When her behavior was simply confined to her brief fits and those atrocious garments she's forever making that would have been one thing, but now that she has done something truly monstrous and unholy? This cannot be overlooked or ignored. It cannot."
Samuel frowned a little as he straightened. "So you are asking me to so soon destroy the remains of my family, is that it?"
"We are asking you to take a murderer and a monster and give her the death she deserves."
"Constanza has more than her share of odd behaviors and quirks, but this is nothing like any of them," Samuel retorted. "What happened was…was something that she couldn't possibly have done. I can see it now that I've had a chance to gather my wits. Nothing else she does that is strange is anything compared to this."
Lorenzo frowned. "Be that as it may, all of the evidence points to her, and of everyone in this castle she is the only one who even seems capable of it. She was living in the forest as a wild woman for years. And you saw how she reacted at the baptism…"
The king let out a long exhale as he put his hand on his forehead as his temper flared. "You aren't listening to me… She is my wife, and I can tell you that she would never do anything so disgusting or vile! She loved our son!"
"No one else could have possibly done it, my lord."
"We don't know that for absolute certainty! Doesn't a woman who is potentially innocent deserve a full hearing? A bit more benefit of the doubt?"
The council was silent. All of them looked uneasy now, glancing to one another before looking back at the king. The advisor folded his hands in front of him and gave the king a firmer, more serious look. The others gave him much the same stare.
He glanced about and nearly scowled. "What are you all looking at me like that for?"
"There has been another question that people are starting to whisper about in regards to this incident, sire."
His lips curled. "And what would that question be, Lorenzo?"
"How a loving father could have possibly slept through the sounds of his own son being torn to pieces and devoured not five feet away from him over what had to have taken hours."
Samuel's scowl vanished, taken aback instead. He looked again at the eyes, still staring at him sternly, and realized what this was about. One or two of them about him had more than that. Just hints of suspicion. His jaw loosened.
"Are you all honestly sitting there accusing me of-"
"None of us are accusing you of anything, milord. We are in your service and have sworn oaths of fealty. Yet that being said, the rumors are already starting. These are the most deadly and destructive ones yet. Your marriage to this woman has caused a great deal of damage to the reputation of Beneserta, and some of it has been irreparable. This, however…this could fracture the ruling family completely."
He bowed his head again, his look darkening. He clearly had not been thinking of that over the past few hours. He rubbed his brow a bit, closing his eyes and sighing.
Lorenzo's look softened, turning more imploring. He leaned in closer to him.
"Sire, we all know that you have a devotion to this woman. Some say it borders on unnatural, but that is neither here nor there. In any case, you have shown more loyalty toward her than anyone I have ever known, and you have risked all damage to your reputation and your family name to keep it. Everyone knows that to be true, but my lord,"
He leaned in closer yet, his voice turning more insistent.
"Please…I beg of you…do not let that stand in the way of justice now. Do as everyone knows is right. If for no other reason than for your future and posterity. Prove to your people and to the rest of the country that you were never mad or seduced by this creature by giving her the sentence she has earned. Or else you might be finished and this principality along with you."
Samuel opened his eyes, his look hard for a moment. As gentle and well-intentioned as it might have been, he still recognized a threat when he heard it. He looked up to the council table and around. All of them stared at him in agreement. All of them saw, without a shadow of a doubt, one sentence to be carried out. Any knowledge of Costanza as an individual or personally was irrelevant to them. The facts were clear enough for them as it was. Yet they only mirrored what everyone else in the castle and the countryside felt. By now, the word was spreading to every noble in the castle that she alone had been guilty for the monstrous deed. It was now so clear in the minds of the others that no lone defender, even if that defender was the king, would be able to dissuade them. They would only conclude that he was as mad…or perhaps infernal…as she.
If that alone could have saved her, he might have maintained it none the less. It would not, however. And after something so hideous and vile had transpired, none would be satisfied with a pardon. They would declare the entire country run by servants of darkness. Rebellion and insurrection would arise, the entire city would be considered ungodly, his own citizens might burn the very castle down around him, and the land seized and given to "God-fearing" men instead. The ruin of his own court, his mother, his friends, and his people—all to buy Costanza a few more days or weeks of life before she was killed by an angry mob…probably along with him. As a king, such a price was not worth it.
He slumped. He had no heart in this whatsoever. Even to force it out of his lips was nearly impossible, and he never sat up or looked anyone in the eye to do it. He simply lowered his hand, closed his eyes, and spoke in the most mechanical voice possible.
"Queen Costanza…my wife…will be burned at the stake at dawn for the crimes of murder, cannibalism, and witchcraft."
Eleonora's embroidery was out, but she hadn't touched it since she had set up. She sat in her chair, drumming her fingers along the arm rest, a perturbed look on her face. She had been staring at a spot on the shelf off and on for nearly a whole hour now, constantly thinking about what had happened last night, what she had seen this morning, and especially her part in all of it.
The doorknob turned to her drawing room. She snapped to it, the outrage on her face nearly coming out. No one ever barged into her chambers without so much as announcing themselves, even if, she thought with some trepidation, Paola was not the one admitting them. Yet the door swung open wide soon after and she came in.
Eleonora was almost struck by her appearance. Yesterday she had looked lovely and eye-catching enough, but she had a pleasant smile to go with it and an innocent enough expression. Her face had changed now. It was far more alluring, sultry, and amorous. Definitely the look of someone who was now trying to attract male attention. Her hair and attire were done up for the same purpose. Now she looked almost like an exotic, alluring flower with the vibrant colors that seemed to stand out from the world about them. It almost made the older woman nauseous. And this time, the expression on her face was not only something she found disgraceful and appalling, but considering what she had seen that morning…also unnerving.
Remembering what had happened yesterday, her crucifix was out this time and clasped in one hand.
Laura didn't even look at it as she shut the door behind her and faced the woman, not giving so much as a curtsy. "You wished to see me, your grace?"
Eleonora frowned as she promptly rose from her chair, revealing her own far darker and modest attire. "Today is a day of mourning. Why are you not dressed appropriately?"
"Oh, I'm sorry." Her voice was far more casual and easy than the day before. "I was just trying this on for tomorrow afternoon; making sure it didn't need any last minute alterations. That's not why you called me here though, is it?"
The older woman flustered a little at her casual air. She had indeed seemed to change since yesterday, and she found it both a touch insulting as well as uncomfortable. "I want to know what in Heaven's name you did last night."
"Took care of our little problem," she smirked.
"You said to leave it to you and in two days I would be free of that devil woman forever."
"And did I lie?" She put a hand to her lips and gave an airy giggle. "Being roasted alive will certainly accomplish that end, won't it?"
Eleonora grimaced. Her son's wife may have been a fiend and a temptress…but she didn't derive such sadistic pleasure from knowing she would meet her end. "I never imagined that you would-"
"We needed it to be convincing, didn't we? Simply abducting the child wouldn't have been good enough."
"But…but how did you come about those remains?" In spite of herself, she was stammering. "And how did you manage to do all of that without so much as-"
Laura cut her off with a casual hand wave. "Oh, we all have our little secrets, Eleonora."
The woman let out a short gasp, having just been addressed so casually by her name in her own castle. Laura kept smiling at her, her eyes almost flashing.
"We both get what we want, so what else matters?"
She flustered at her casual air about everything. She clenched her jaw, pursed her lips, and quivered slightly. However, she pushed it down. "And what of Silvio? How do you think my son will react when he sees his son alive and well?"
Laura smiled a bit wider. Her eyes almost seemed to gleam.
"Who says that he needs to see his son alive and well?"
Eleonora's eyes widened.
"You said it yourself he's a little half-demon spawn. Surely we'd be doing the world as much a favor ridding it of a witch's offspring as a witch herself, hmm?"
"I…I did not…" Eleonora nearly cupped her hands to her mouth, for she nearly shouted that in outrage. She quickly quieted her voice. "I did not say that I wanted him to die for certain! The plan was to decide what to do with him once that woman was gone!"
"Of course, of course it was, but…you will admit that you have no love for him, yes? And things would be far easier for us both if he was to be gone, yes?" She shrugged. "Infants die all the time at a moment's notice. Accidents do happen, even with trusted maidservants such as Paola. Any number of things could have happened on the way to the nurse's. She hasn't returned yet to tell you how her errand went, has she?"
Eleonora nearly opened her mouth at that, but quickly shut it again, almost clamping it. A look of realization came over her eyes for a moment. However, as time passed, a deeper realization came to her. Her former outrage began to fade and gave way to more unease. Her look showed just how much she had failed to realize she was getting into when she made a conspiracy with this woman, and it was making her more uncomfortable all the time.
"Well, I'm sure, one way or another, it went fine." Laura turned back for the door. "Good day." She started to reach for the knob.
"I didn't dismiss you."
The hand paused on the way there, and an audible sigh came from the woman. She turned back and looked at Eleonora tiredly. "What is it now?"
The insubordination re-enkindled Eleonora's anger somewhat, enough to override her anxiety again. She began to step toward her. Again, Laura didn't look at the crucifix, and she didn't balk either.
"You said you were dressing for tomorrow afternoon. What is so important about tomorrow afternoon?"
"Hmm? Oh!" Laura lit up with her voluptuous smile once again. "Tomorrow afternoon proves to be a day of mourning and tragedy, to have lost the entire royal family in but two days even if one was a murderer. Your son, Samuel, will most likely be devastated. I figured he could use a shoulder to cry upon."
For the second time, Eleonora gasped. She froze in midstep, clutching her free hand toward her chest.
"He'll be a bachelor again while I am a widow. We're both still so young, though. Plenty of time to make a fresh start, wouldn't you say?"
Eleonora didn't answer. Her mouth was still open. The thought of Laura being Costanza's replacement was now running through her mind and, a bit to her own surprise, she found herself even more uncomfortable with the thought than her current daughter-in-law. Most of all, however, was what she realized from the context. She now suspected the real reason Laura had been so eager to help her. And if that was true, then everything she said yesterday, all the words she had longed to hear that were such dainty morsels, only serving to persuade her to do whatever the woman wished…did that mean…?
"We've both done so much for this kingdom and your son. We should work together in the future," Laura finished, before beginning to turn again.
As she reached for the door, Eleonora's hand slammed against it before she could turn the knob. Laura looked up and back and Eleonora pulled her hand away only to thrust a finger in her face.
"Now you listen to me. I may have gone along with you on this errand, but I do not give you my approval to take advantage of this for your own gain. I want you to stay away from-"
Eleonora was cut off by a pained gasp as Laura's hand lashed out and grasped her hand and her extended finger, tightening her grip in just such a way that she tried to bend the finger back over the fist in the wrong way. Her hand was like iron. The older woman immediately felt pain rocket through her arm. Laura quickly tightened it, forcing her to back up and cry out again.
"No, you listen to me."
Laura's voice was no longer pleasant. It was now thin, drawn out, hissing, and cold. Her eyes flashed like small colored oil flames in her head. She suddenly seemed not only far larger but stronger. Eleonora had been bigger than her before, but now she seemed to tower over her. She almost swore the light of the sun streaming in her room was dimmed to make her look more brilliant and ethereal.
"No one tells me what to do. I take what I like, when I like, where I like, and who I like."
Eleonora's insult was gone. Now she clearly feared the woman who had her in her grip. She glanced down to her other hand, the one bearing the crucifix. It was in the open, and for a moment she thought of holding it up to her… Yet she was this close already. She feared what would happen if the woman didn't react.
As for Laura, her temper eased, and she smiled again as she spoke far more quietly and slowly. "Now then, Eleonora, I'm sure you aren't being so thoughtless as to think of reneging on our understanding. Not after this morning when you boldly ordered your soon-to-be-former daughter-in-law to be seized. When you saw your precious son almost a corpse with grief knowing the whole time the reason. You are the only other one with a key to that room, after all. Trying to implicate me would only lay an axe along your own neck. Or perhaps you always wanted to feel what it would be like to burn alive yourself? That is the fate you planned for the woman you framed, is it not? And if you did, what then? Right back to where you started. Back with the little wretch married to your son giving birth to one unholy monster after another. Oh, she'd get nothing but satisfaction watching you scream as the flames licked your flesh away."
Her teeth were exposed, gleaming.
"Trust me, there is nothing more delectable to certain wicked things than to see someone innocent suffer and die for their misdeeds."
Her hand finally released, nearly throwing Eleonora. In spite of herself, the woman gave a cry as the force caused her to fall back and to the ground. She landed hard, but kept gazing up fearfully. Now Laura loomed over her like a predator, relishing her position.
"If I were you, I would never stand in my way again. In two days I've already removed both the prince and the queen from this kingdom. It's a small matter to also be rid of a prideful, jealous old woman."
Eleonora only quivered there on the ground, too fearful to move. Laura again began to turn away and, for a third time, put her hand on the doorknob.
She stopped this time and slowly removed it and turned back to her. Her face was still sinister, but more at ease. A moment later, she crouched next to Eleonora on the floor. It took all of the queen's will power not to scurry away from her.
Laura, however, wasn't focused on her. Her eyes lay fully on the crucifix.
"Symbols of devotion. Unwavering, heartfelt, tireless commitment," she mused. "Holy symbols are nothing more than idols most of the time. Works of wood, stone, and metal that are crafted to look lovely but have nothing else to them. Very pretty to look at and enjoy at leisure. It's ones that have been chipped by steadfastness, rusted by bitter tears, warped by fervent hands clasped in prayer…those are the ones that I find garish and abhorrent. Ugly, ruined things that I can't stand in the least. However…"
Suddenly, her hand lashed out and put itself over Eleonora's own. It was a cold feeling, but even colder and more shocking when she realized it was grasping the same crucifix the same as her. She looked up and saw Laura was grinning at her again.
"So strange…how just one determined sin can so easily render such years of pious devotion for naught. I don't find those sorts of objects unattractive at all."
As Eleonora sat pale and still as a statue, Laura reached up and stroked her cheek like a young lover. Getting up again, she turned, opened the door, and exited.
The queen mother couldn't move. She could barely even breathe as she sat on the floor, quivering and cringing from the tingling where the younger woman had touched her.
Samuel had spent much of the rest of the day on the veranda. He knew some of the guests were leaving now while others were staying, having changed from offering congratulations to condolences, but he paid no mind to any of them or the rest of the castle's activities. He didn't want to see them now, and he definitely didn't want to see the front courtyard of the castle where even now a pyre was being erected for tomorrow morning. As day gradually gave way to evening and sunset, he continued to look out at the lake, looking for any more signs of those swans that had brought him to this point a year ago. He saw none, and as day turned to night he didn't care if the braziers were lit or not. The garden would never look bright to him, day or night, ever again.
Yesterday, in spite of everything he had to deal with and everything that had come from meeting Costanza, he still had the woman he loved and their son. Now he had neither. This time tomorrow, he would have as little as he had a year earlier. All of it…gone like a strange, eerie, and yet pleasant dream.
He wanted to go to her now; stay with her until dawn. He couldn't care less about what people would say about it. They'd get what they wanted tomorrow, after all. But how could he? How could he look at her when he had been the one who declared her death?
Why was he the only one insisting on her innocence? Was she really something so strange and unusual? Was he really so blinded that he couldn't see it?
No, he was sure that wasn't it. Yet it hardly mattered. Here he stood anyway, only able to assent to her death though he knew now in his heart that she couldn't have done it. But who did? How? Why? There was no answer for any of those questions, and so her fate was sealed.
The door creaked behind Samuel. Without even turning, he already knew who it was. Timidly and wincing a bit, a pair of glasses in one hand and a bottle of wine in the other, Diego stepped out onto the veranda. He saw his friend wasn't reclining in his normal seat but was standing on the rail, looking down at the garden. He ventured forward a few steps, but stayed at a distance when he stopped.
"Evening, milord," he said after a long time. "I…suppose it would be silly to call it 'good'."
Samuel didn't move or answer.
Diego swallowed a little. "I went to your room first. I figured you'd be shut up in there, but the head servant said you'd been out on the veranda all day. So…I figured I would try." He held up his bottle. "I brought the wine this time."
No response.
"The guests took most of your best vintage, so…well, mine isn't nearly as good, but acceptable. Let's have a glass." Pause. "It might make you feel a bit better…"
"And who said I have a desire to feel better about the death of my son and my wife scheduled to die tomorrow?"
The voice was only a little sharp, but it was enough to make Diego wince. He turned back to the table between the unused chairs and set the wine and glasses down. He opened it soon after, but he didn't even bother pouring himself a glass, let alone Samuel's..
"Your mother has been looking for you. Wishing to speak with you…"
"My mother is getting what she's prayed an entire year for. That should be more than enough for her."
He almost spat that part out, causing Diego to wince a bit more. "She loves you, Samuel. She only wants what-"
"Everyone always wants 'what's best' for me. That is to say everyone always knows what's best for me. I'm just a poor, hopeless, thoughtless young king who can't tell his right from his left, aren't I? I need my dear friends, my loyal advisors, and my overbearing mother to tell me everything to do, don't I? From which cities to negotiate with to what excursions to take from the castle walls to who to marry? And they've grown so used to it they find themselves insulted and offended when I don't bow to their advice and sound logic, even if I didn't request it in the first place! Perhaps I should be thankful that my late son will never get to experience the same joy from knowing so many others know what's best for him…"
By this point, Diego was rather anxious about coming out here. He stood still a few moments before he ventured taking a step closer. "I'm sorry about what happened, Samuel. I truly am. I never heard of anyone who has had to endure this, and I wouldn't wish the decision you had to make on anyone. I know full well no matter what anyone said you still loved her. I never had the slightest doubt of that. But now you see-"
"Why?"
Diego was cut off, and a moment later found Samuel finally spinning around to him.
"Why do you all have such a hard time believing she's innocent? Why do you all insist that it has to be her?"
"But…my lord, the evidence…"
"To hell with the evidence! She could have been as spotless as a white sheet and you all still would have accused her! Do you deny that?"
Diego swallowed. He lowered his eyes and said nothing, not able to answer.
"I want to know why. What did she ever do to you? To any of you? What harm, ill, or injury? Was it simply existing? Simply dwelling in the castle? I am to blame for that! Do you wish me burned at the stake too?"
Diego looked up. "My lord, you can't think-"
"Was it such a sin that she made those shirts? Or never spoke or wrote? Did the kingdom ever suffer for any of that? No! It only suffered from people who decided they hated her and so they hated anyone who was so close to her! She exposed all of your evils, not the other way around!"
"My lord, Samuel… Who else could it have been? There is only one person in this castle we know nothing about who is prone to unnatural acts…"
"That doesn't make her guilty by default! That doesn't make her a witch or a devil like all of you always thought she was!"
"My lord, I may not have cared for her that much, but I never thought she was those things!" Diego insisted defensively. "I thought she was a touch mad is all!"
He frowned at him. "Tell her that before the pyre is lit," he muttered before turning back to the railing. "I'm sure she'll have some comfort knowing she's only dying for being a madwoman and not in league with demons."
"I only said a touch mad, my lord!" he insisted. "I had two uncles who had a touch of madness themselves. If I kept one away from wine and the other off the topic of Spain, they were perfectly civil. I mean, there was nothing wrong with being silent either. Lots of people can take vows of silence. Monks and nuns, for example. The shirts, I admit, were quite odd and I don't know anyone who would go about making them from stinging nettles of all things, but-"
"What did you just say?"
Diego looked up. Samuel had turned away from the railing again, and his expression had changed. It was no longer angry but focused on him.
He blinked. "I don't know anyone who would go about making shirts from stinging nettles."
"No, no…before that. About being silent."
"That? Just…just that monks and nuns take vows of silence all the time," he shrugged. "Sometimes they pledge not to speak for a time or for the rest of their lives. I'd imagine hermits do it all the time."
Samuel didn't answer. He stared ahead at Diego as something clicked in his mind and new thoughts clearly entered his head.
"My lord, are you alright?"
He stood there quietly a moment more, before he suddenly broke his posture. He immediately began to march back for the house. As he did, he passed his dumbfounded and puzzled friend, but he stopped only long enough to clap his hand on his shoulder.
"Thank you."
Diego looked around as he passed him by, yet the moment he did he saw that the king had already broken into a run. He tore open the doors and charged inside, immediately heading for the stairs.
To be continued...