Queen Elizabeth Bowes-Lyon scowled and swirled the brandy in her glass. It was a lovely color, nice and rich, with a subtle taste that was perfect for her headache.
And what a headache it was.
"Cormac, is it done?" she asked. A few feet away, Cormac put down the landline and nodded, watching the door carefully.
"I've called Alonso; he's in the process of readying a room as we speak," he confirmed. "The two boys will be put into a room on the third floor of the North Wing; close enough that they'll not be able to escape, but far enough that they won't have an easy time of getting to Your Majesty's chambers." She snorted even as he glowered at his holstered gun, the gunmetal gleaming dully in the dim lights.
"How many times have I told you that those two boys aren't any threat?" she asked. She took a sip of her brandy, relishing the notes of apricots and pears that accompanied an acrid, alcoholic heat.
"As many times as you've said already, Your Majesty, and likely many more," Cormac replied. "Whatever that Potter boy did with that… thing… was undeniably deadly, you have to admit that."
"I do." Elizabeth nodded, downing the rest of her brandy. The warmth spreading through her chest was only a slight comfort compared to the heavy ring now adorning her finger. The diamond in the center still glowed slightly, enough that it could just barely be seen in the dusky kitchen. The place was quaint, just refurbished with rich woods and creamy tile less than a month before. Elizabeth ran her fingers over the only original piece in the room: an oak table worn smooth by countless meals and spilled drinks.
"However," she continued on seeing Cormac's dubious look, "he is a boy, and he was performing a task that has been seen through. He doesn't want to hurt anyone. That Dursley boy, a little less so, but they won't misbehave outside of what shenanigans children their age normally indulge in."
"Your Majesty, I really must disapprove of this," Cormac said with a sigh. "I want to believe you, I really do, but whatever he did wasn't natural. It wasn't right, I could feel it in my bones. That ring on your finger, too, gives off the strangest energy."
Elizabeth directed a bit more of her attention towards the Ring. It brimmed with power, unassailable and yet somehow completely open, burning with life energy right at her fingertips. She held out a hand experimentally, then smiled when the power rushed into the spot she focused on, creating a small shard of blindingly bright crystal. Cormac grunted, and her fingers closed, dissipating it into motes of glittering dust.
"My apologies, Cormac," she said after a moment. "I know you dislike the situation we've been put in, but it must been seen through completely. All three of us, and I suspect nearly everyone in the palace, will be sucked into the thick of this sooner or later. I will sort out the majority of the problems on my own; I'm still Queen yet, and Diana won't be taking my place for a good long while."
"Prince Philip doesn't want the throne, Your Majesty?"
She smiled fondly. "Philip knows I still have a few decades ticking away in me, and he won't take that away while I still want to rule. He'll take it if he must, but sometimes I think he wants me to outlive him just for that. Never did like too much responsibility, that one."
Cormac nodded stiffly. With a small grin, Elizabeth leaned across the table and passed the bottle of brandy to him. "Aged a few years now," she noted. "Expensive, but good. Have a glass yourself. I think you'll need it."
"I'm not supposed to drink on the job, Your Majesty," Cormac replied automatically. Even as he said it, he was reaching for a squat glass and a tumbler of ice. Elizabeth's smile grew into a smirk as he downed a mouthful without even flinching. "But putting that aside, I want to know what's happening. Forgive me for demanding, Your Majesty, but as your security I think I should be aware of whatever occurred in that room."
"I'm still trying to figure that bit out myself," Elizabeth admitted. She twisted the Ring of the Lucii once, watching it catch the light and return it with double its original intensity. "I believe, however, that I've just been made responsible for a kingdom that is intimately familiar with magic."
"I'd say I don't believe any of it, but considering you just made a diamond lightbulb in your hands, I'm willing to consider a bit more." Cormac relaxed slightly into his chair. Elizabeth knew it was against his better judgment; Cormac had always been, and would likely always be, the most rigid of the Queen's Guard. "A magic kingdom, you say? Where is it?"
Elizabeth relayed what little she knew about the kingdom of Lucis. The Potter boy had mentioned a book that could be useful in that regard, but the small conversation with Noctis would have to be enough. Cormac's expression, true to form, barely wavered as she told him of the Judgment of Kings. When she finished, he leaned back and nodded slowly, contemplating what remained in his glass.
"I've heard rumors about this kind of thing before," he acknowledged after a moment. "Little flits of talk about spells and magic and—worst of them, in my eyes—politics. Not from ordinary folk, either, nor the conspiracy-riddled fools that crow about lizard people. Every so often, there'll be a case of someone coming through the Road wearing robes. Actual, full-length robes, the kind you'd see in some sort of role-playing group. Thing is, people don't seem to ever notice them. Most just go on their way, and the few that do pay any attention just act like it's not a big deal."
"And you are one of those few?" Elizabeth asked, intrigued. Cormac snorted, setting his glass down on the oaken table. His bright red hair caught the light in a dance of flaming curls.
"No," he admitted. "I've caught myself completely ignoring them on the security cameras whenever they pop up. I might be a bit tired at times, Your Majesty, but I'm not an unobservant person. Missing someone in canary-yellow robes is not something I am prone to do."
Elizabeth waited patiently while Cormac poured himself another glass of brandy. "As you know, there are a few microphones hidden in various points along the courtyard of the Palace. Just in case, though we tend to turn them off for big events. Whatever it is those robed people do, it doesn't affect the microphones. We hear talk about the strangest things, even if it is sparingly. Worse yet, it even sounds like gossip. They mention products that don't exist on the common market. The number of times I've sent out notices to the guard to check for the existence of Sleekeazy's hair products…"
"You're saying there are magical hair products?" The idea sounded utterly absurd, but then again, so did the idea of a kingdom run on royal magic and an immensely powerful Crystal.
"More than just the one, apparently," Cormac sighed. "There's an entire competitive market out there for these magicians, from what I can understand. Naturally, the majority of the populace doesn't know, nor should they. If the existence of magic was discovered, even if it's just magical hair care, people would have a fit."
"I find it immensely more concerning that this has been kept a secret from the public for so long," Elizabeth said crossly. "Even worse that it was kept from me. The Prime Minister and Parliament may well know about it, in which case I could understand a sense of secrecy, but the royal family has been trustworthy since I took up the crown."
"Your Majesty, I think it's less concerning that the Parliament may know about this and more that they have the power to evade normal society completely and still just be there. Think of how many crimes could be committed by one of these magicians. Theft, murder, rape, and nobody would know who it would be. They could be attacking us with impunity, and we'd never know it."
"Evade normal society they might, but even an average Londoner would recognize a rash of crimes with no direct cause or evidence," Elizabeth said. "But that they can escape detection is indeed the main concern. Cormac, do you remember the last time the royal court had a magister?"
"I wasn't aware that we had one, Your Majesty," Cormac said neutrally. Even so, she could see his lips twitch into a faint frown. The information could be vital for all he knew.
"We don't—not any more, at least. The last one was John Dee, and even then he was a bit dubious about the role. Died just at the turn of the seventeenth century, and nobody stepped up to claim the position since, even though Dee had children who supposedly possessed the same magical talent that he did."
"Witch hunters," Cormac realized.
Elizabeth nodded tritely. "With the rise of science as an area of study, magic became less of a normal part of life and more of a superstitious bumbling. I expect that by the end of the seventeenth century, magic was as reviled in Britain as the Soviets are in the States."
Cormac poured himself a third glass, though there wasn't a hint of rosiness in his cheeks. She smirked and nodded for him to go ahead when he glanced up at her. "Forgive me for interrupting a fascinating history lesson, Your Majesty, but what does this have to do with these magicians?"
"It's simply more evidence pointing towards their existence, and a bit of a warning to avoid them if possible," Elizabeth explained. "You know people don't do well with learning from history. If it were to get out that these magical people are living amongst us in secret, it'd just turn everybody against each other. Pandemonium would rise more quickly than if Satan himself had built it."
"But what about this Lucis?"
Elizabeth, eyes locked to the ring, contemplated the matter. It glimmered with a caressing blue-white light, a dulcet hum vibrating from the stone set within. "What is there to be done? Until I can discuss this with the Prime Minister and Parliament, it will simply be a name known to a select few people. Granting an entire country citizenship to a kingdom that doesn't exist will be… difficult."
Cormac fell silent, eyes wary. Eventually, almost cautiously, he spoke. "Your Majesty? If I might ask, why did you accept the ring in the first place?"
"Besides the fact that it was practically forced on me by a hundred kings and an eight-year-old boy?" Elizabeth's smile became brittle. "Why else? Power."
Cormac nodded. Only a mouthful or so of the brandy remained and, after gesturing to Elizabeth, Cormac down the rest of it straight from the glass. "I needed that," he admitted. Elizabeth's snort echoed through the room.
"I'm glad you've had a pick-me-up," Elizabeth said, "because we have work to do." She twisted the Ring of the Lucii once more, then stood, sprier than a woman half her age. "I have a Glaive to found, a kingdom to sort out, magic to explore, and a few choice words for Margaret."
Elizabeth stood, moving quickly through the kitchen and into an adjacent room. Cormac started and followed after, the faintest hint of red reaching his cheeks. As he rushed behind her, she thought she heard him mutter something about "brandy being stronger than he thought".
'Rampant alcoholic he might be,' she thought, 'but he knows when to stop and when to down an entire bottle of whiskey.'
"Your Majesty, where are we going?" Cormac asked.
She smiled and took a sharp left, stopping just before her office door. The guard standing in front of the heavy doors blinked, but that was the only sign of his surprise. "Good morning, Your Majesty," he rumbled.
"To you as well, Ramsay. Please stand aside; I have urgent business to attend to." Ramsay nodded and shuffled to the left, never once losing composure. She felt two pairs of eyes on her, one a piercing green and the other a dull brown. "Ah, and send for Aaron if he hasn't fallen asleep already," she added absently. "Tell him to bring the book the Potter boy mentioned. He will know which one it is."
Ramsay made a noise halfway towards confusion and affirmation, but she shut the door behind him before more could be said. The office was sparse, a sharp contrast to the lavish comfort of the rest of the palace. A few paintings hung on the rounded walls, every one looking down on a cluttered desk and a pair of chintz armchairs. The light snapped on as she walked in, almost of its own accord.
"Cormac, if you could kindly watch the window?" Cormac nodded and moved to stand behind her, his eyes sharp and watching. Elizabeth sat, steeped her fingers, and reached for the phone on the desk.
It only rang twice before a soothing voice answered. "Prime Minister's office, how may we help you?"
"The old woman's paying someone to answer the phone at all hours?" Cormac muttered from behind her. She grinned. "Daft of her."
"Please put me through to Margaret, Maria," she replied. Maria seemed to freeze up even through the line. "Please, I wouldn't have called if this weren't urgent."
"Understood, Your Majesty." The word was issued with more than a bit of hesitance, a stark contrast from the sharp, short confidence that usually came from her guard. "I'll put her through right away."
The phone began to ring again, and Elizabeth took a bit of time to examine her other rings. Of the two that she never took off, only the wedding band looked anywhere near tarnished. The other, a glistening, jewel-studded monster, sparkled even in the near-nonexistent light.
"Your Majesty?" Margaret's tired voice echoed. "What is it?"
"I need to have a serious discussion with you about this farce of a system you call magic," Elizabeth snapped. Again, there was that sensation of freezing from the phone. She glanced down and realized it was actually beginning to frost over. Hoarfrost halted as quickly as it had spread, trapped by the tight rein Elizabeth had to exert over her emotions. "Yes, I am aware that there is an entire society of magicians living within Britain that nobody knows about, and I want answers."
"Your Majesty, I really don't think—"
"Frankly, Margaret, I don't give a damn what you think," Elizabeth growled. Margaret fell silent immediately. "You're going to be run out of office in a month anyway. I want you ready to receive guests at ten in the morning, no sooner, no later. You will cancel any meetings you have before then. Do we understand?"
"Your Majesty!"
"I said do we understand, Margaret?" The dangerous edge in Elizabeth's voice must have finally broken through to Margaret because she whispered a muffled affirmation. Elizabeth snorted and smacked the phone back on the receiver.
"You're getting that look in your eye again," Cormac said after turning around, all pretense of hierarchy forgotten. A smile crept across Elizabeth's face, one that unnerved even her.
"Like I said, I want answers," Elizabeth said slowly. She swiveled in her chair, eyes on one of the paintings of a golden dawn overlooking a grassy hill. "I am the Queen, Cormac. It has been the duty of the royal family to look after their citizens for hundreds of years, with varying success. I may not have the power my namesake enjoyed, but if these wizards are determined to be a threat to the general population, I will do what I must."