The Thing About Surprises
The thing about surprises was that they weren't always welcome.
When Auden woke up that morning, it was to meet the slitted, yellow eyes of a snake. Not the best way to wake up. Auden wasn't certain this wasn't a dream. A very bizarre one. And definitely and unwelcome surprise.
In this situation, Auden expected to panic. Yet, it was not Auden who screamed, but the maid who drew open her curtain. The young woman fled from the room, screaming profanities and pleas down the halls as she ran. Soon enough, there was a crowd of people bursting through her door. Auden paid them no mind.
A strange sense of calm overcame her as she sat up slowly as not to startle the creature coiled on the pillow next to hers.
"Vipera seoanei. Better known as the Baskian viper," Auden recited, letting the snake sense her before picking it up. She handled it gently, letting it do the hard work of finding balance across her limbs. "They're not native to these parts, more commonly found along the Northern border with Spain." She turned towards her maids, who jumped back as far as they could, petrified. "Someone has lost a very exotic pet."
"Y-you are not afraid, My Lady?" one of them stammered in broken English.
"Why would I be? She's beautiful." The zigzags on the snake's back undulated as it wound itself up Auden's arm. In the morning light, the brown scales shone copper.
Auden was hardly in danger. The venom was mild, reactions rare. These particular snakes didn't have fangs long enough to pierce human skin; even if the creature bit her, it was unlikely she would feel a thing. The worst that could happen was an allergic reaction.
A joke perhaps? Or a lazy, uninformed assassin. Auden didn't know which to find more insulting.
It would be remiss of her to dismiss this "attempt" on her life. Governor Ermani was still in play, and it would be a cold day in Hell before Auden forgot what he said to Queen Amantia during her engagement party. Auden had no friends here, only people who wanted her out of the picture. Why, she still didn't know. It was hard to think of any benefit of throwing away the deal Illéa was cutting Portugal. A good ruler wouldn't think to sever ties so quickly.
Then again, Queen Amantia never claimed to be a good ruler.
A butler arrived with a small crate. Auden deposited the snake gently into the box, hoping that it would be released humanely back into nature and not have its life ended abruptly at the end of a garden hoe.
"You certainly know a lot about snakes."
This was Queen Amantia's voice.
The woman had found her way into the chaos. She stood near the doorway in her trademark mourning black. Her lips were pursed and pale, her eyes focused on the crate which then found their way to Auden. Displeasure was evident in every line creasing her forehead. As if she expected to find something else.
"I am surrounded by them," Auden replied with a smile. "In Angeles, the desert is full of things that can kill you. Best to learn about them to be adequately prepared."
The Queen smiled unkindly. She had no other kind of smile, so Auden would have preferred she simply not be there at all. Her lack of surprise to see the snake spoke volumes, accusations on the tip of Auden's tongue. She bit them down, a reminder to play the long game.
"Since your Illéan constitution has strengthened your nerves, I will expect to see you down at breakfast shortly."
"Of course, Your Majesty."
Perhaps the curtsey was unnecessary, but Auden performed one anyway. At least she put on a good show for the maids who still looked like they were about to fall over at a moment's notice. They scuttled out of the way of the queen's departure. It was quite a hasty one, her black skirts like a billow of smoke down the hall.
"I wonder why she is so upset," Auden asked aloud, knowing full well what the problem was.
"She worries for your safety, Highness," one maid said, braving stepping closer to the bed to make it as Auden settled into her vanity. "Long has she wanted a bride for Prince Dorian."
"Yes," Auden agreed, studying her reflection in the mirror. "Just not me."
.o.O.o.
Breakfast was a stilted affair.
Auden and the queen were the only ones in attendance so far. They didn't speak. Queen Amantia kept her gaze focused on her papers, and every once in a while when she thought Auden wasn't looking, she fixed Auden with an unreadable stare.
Auden didn't let that faze her. She sat quietly and poked at her eggs. Truth be told, the adrenaline from the morning had yet to wear off and her appetite had fled with it. Drinking coffee would only worsen the shake in her hands, the tremble in her legs. She kept bouncing them under the table. The maids were giving her side eye and the butler who refilled her water glass gave her a worried glance.
They think I'm cracking, she thought to herself, forcing her hand steady as she took a drink. Just breathe.
The doors flew open, and in rushed Dorian. He looked half put together, glasses askew and hair sticking up every which way. He'd buttoned his shirt wrong and his belt was too loose. Auden would have laughed had he not oozed panicked distress.
When he found Auden, his eyes went wide.
"Are you alright?" he asked, running to Auden's side and taking her face in his clammy hands.
"I'm fine," she assured him, letting him fuss over her like a mother hen.
"They told me what happened," he gasped, catching his breath. He must have run all the way from his rooms. "The snake - "
"Did absolutely nothing to me. It was harmless."
"Yes, praises be your bride remains unharmed," Queen Amantia said drolly, as if she did not care one way or another if Auden lived or died.
Dorian ignored her, Auden his entire focus.
"Did you find out how it got there?"
"It's a snake, darling," Queen Amantia sighed. "It likely slithered in through the window as snakes do."
"We are not worried that it might mean something?" It was unlike Dorian to talk back to his mother, but he did now. "We were shot at only weeks ago, now this."
"You're grasping at air. Don't go worrying about things that do not concern you."
"My wife's health concerns me!"
"She's not your wife yet," Queen Amantia reminded pointedly, her gaze cold and pitiless.
The Queen rattled off something in Portuguese, her tone clipped, and Dorian's face fell. The longer she spoke, the more dejected he grew. Auden reached out and took his hand in hers, giving it a squeeze. That brought some life back to him. Queen Amantia noticed and frowned, her voice petering out into nothing.
"I see you are not paying me any heed," she said in English, displeased. "I will take my breakfast elsewhere."
With that, she rose from the table and exited the dining hall. Dorian did not run after her as Auden thought he may have. Instead, he stood by Auden's side, resolute, though chastened.
"What did she say to you?" Auden asked, tugging him down to sit next to her. He did, and servants were quick to set him a place and pour him juices and water. It was nice to dine so closely. In formal meals with the queen, they were set so far apart.
"She told me to remember my loyalty to her and to my country over any foreign allegiance," he muttered, shaking his head. "She thinks I am too soft towards you, and that you are not strong enough to face the harshness of this world. That you cannot constantly be coddled."
"What a joke," Auden snorted. "I handled a snake this morning while everyone else screamed and ran away! What more show of strength can she want from me?"
"I wish I could laugh, but I am worried. Mother has not taken the arrangement well. The closer we get to the wedding, the more I fear she may try something drastic and hurt herself."
The only person she wants to hurt is me, Auden wanted to say, but kept quiet.
Instead, she asked, "Do you want to get married, Dorian?"
"More than anything."
"Then your mother will come to accept it," Auden replied, willing it so. "She has to, because she loves you."
"My mother is much more stubborn than most."
"I can see that. And trust me, I'm not looking forward to having her as my mother-in-law if this is what our future has in store, but I'll brave it. For you. Just like she will tough out a few more dinners with me." Everything would be fine in a few months, Dorian would see. "Besides, once we're married and depart for our own castle, the distance will help lessen the friction."
Auden could picture it now: an estate in the country miles away from this place. Somewhere they could be at peace and start a family. Maybe a lake or river nearby where they could teach the children to swim. Somewhere entirely their own. Somewhere -
"Mother has plans to move us to a new suite inside this palace, actually."
All of Auden's daydreams shattered.
She turned to Dorian, stunned in horror. "You can't possibly suggest that we stay here and live with your mother permanently."
"I am all she has. I cannot, in good faith, leave her alone."
Auden tried not to panic, not to let her mind take her places she could not escape. Suddenly, the room seemed so much smaller, the walls closing in on her, crushing her, taking away all the air.
"She will never let us rest. She will interfere with our lives. Constantly."
"What would you have me do? Abandon her?" Dorian asked, shifting on his feet with agitation. It was not something Auden had witnessed from him before, and his discomfort with anger would have been endearing if Auden wasn't so engrossed in her panic.
"Talk to her at the very least!" Auden pleaded, feeling like she was going crazy. "It's clear she has an unnatural attachment to you stemming from unresolved grief surrounding your father. It has to stop, Dorian. Both of you will never heal if you don't let go."
"We are perfectly fine, Auden. There is nothing to heal - "
"You barely speak of the man," Auden cut him off, pointing out the literal ghost in the room. "It's his birthday today and you're not even allowed to mention it! Your every conversation is dictated by the rules a dead man set decades ago. Can't you see it's tearing your family apart?"
"The only one causing damage now is you," Dorian replied, his voice soft but firm. There were tears in his eyes, tears which doused Auden's fire and drowned her fighting spark. "You keep poking and prodding. I have asked you to let this matter be, so let it be. Please."
For the first time since their meeting, Auden had nothing to say. All her words died in the back of her throat, closed off by a lump that may or may not have been tears. It was strange; she had never taken Dorian for a stranger, not even at their first meeting. Now, looking at him, she recognized just how little she knew about her husband-to-be. The had only known each other a handful of months, and Auden was talking about his mother. All those years were not going to bend to her.
This was her life now. She had to accept it, and to accept Dorian was to accept Amantia.
Could she do it? Accept the woman who plotted her death with her most senior government into her heart? Live within her walls? Raise their children with her near?
The thought made Auden nauseous. She wasn't sure what this conflicting feeling meant.
"I have to go. I need to fit my suit," Dorian said, his English not quite perfect but enough to understand that he was leaving before they could talk about this hiccup. It didn't sit right with Auden. Her whole world had shifted yet again in the course of a single conversation.
Auden didn't stop him from leaving. She didn't stop him from approaching her and placing a kiss on her cheek, a silent apology and plea for understanding. The kiss did nothing to calm her racing heart, but it settled her nerves, however temporary. Watching him go was hard, but she watched him anyway.
"Are you finished with your breakfast, ma'am?" a servant asked, gesturing towards Auden's barely-eaten plate.
Auden shook her head and let it be cleared away. She hadn't much of an appetite anymore. A shame to waste such good food, but her stomach was in no state to accept another bite. She pushed back her chair with a loud scrape, threw her napkin on her seat, and left the empty room.
She had to make this right, fix it somehow. She didn't want to start a marriage with bad blood. Shaky foundation led to an unstable marriage, and if she didn't treat the cracks now, they'd only grow bigger. But she was only one person and Queen Amantia was too big a crack to fill. So, she'd have to start smaller.
The issue of Dorian's father was one she could tackle in small doses and slowly chip away over months, years. Even if Dorian was too blinded by compassion for his mother now, that didn't mean he would never come to understand what her grief had cost them. Auden could start with a peace offering, a gesture of sympathy and shared grief, for the man's birthday. Nothing offensive to the Queen - nothing she even had to see - just something private for the two of them so Dorian could mourn and celebrate his father without feeling guilty.
There was one place to start.
Technically speaking, this could get her into a lot of trouble, but the way Auden saw it, there wasn't a way for her relationship with her mother in law to get any worse. So, sneaking into the part of the palace she had been told was completely off limits was a risk worth taking. She remembered the way from when Dorian read her poetry on the roof, and it wasn't like she planned on vandalizing the late king's possessions so there was no harm in taking a look.
This part of the palace was dusty, but looked to be routinely kept up. The furniture was outdated, the windows in need of a washing, but other than that nothing out of the ordinary. The hall was the same color blue, the floors the same wood and stone. No guards stopped her from crossing the threshold into the king's old quarters. There were no outward "no trespassing" signs. Paintings hung on the walls, old masters and modern art mixed together in an eclectic combination. The lights were off, but there was plenty of daylight to light the way.
The first door Auden stumbled upon was a bathroom. The next, a spare closet full of boxes. The third, a bedroom which Auden promptly shut. That was a too personal to invade, too far a line to cross. Besides, a tiny glimpse caught a woven blanket on the end of the bed and personal affects still lingering on the bureau. Things that felt far too sacred to disturb.
The last door on the hall was locked. That didn't deter Auden. She was used to jimmying locks open in her own palace - a trick her father had taught her on his old office desk. He said breaking into a locked drawer once set off a chain of events that saved his life. Perhaps Auden's break-in could help save Dorian's family.
The door gave way without much trouble (thank God for universal hardware) and Auden slipped inside, shutting the door quietly behind her. There was more dust in the office, motes floating thick in the air. Unlike the other rooms which were in a state of preservation, this one looked left to rot. The papers left on the desk were yellowed and curled at the edges. Photos on the walls had also yellowed and faded under the sun's harsh rays.
A map on the wall displayed an ancient version of the European Union, back before Illéa was even a thought and many of today's countries had been renamed. Another was a closer look at Portugal, her towns and boundaries drawn in muted grays and scrolling calligraphy. A grandfather clock sat still in the corner, its time long since stopped recording.
Leather crackled under Auden's touch as she sat gently down in the wing-backed chair, scooting out oh-so-carefully so she could get a good look at the drawers. She wasn't sure what she was looking for. A letter? A photo? A locket or a scrap of hair that proved a father once sat at this same desk and loved his son?
The drawer didn't have a lock. Wood creaked open without much effort, a cloud of dust puffing up in Auden's face. She waved it away, stunned to see the drawer stuffed with papers. Most of them looked official, and not all of them old. The papers were mixed: cream card stock, thin printer paper, stationary, the lined parchment children used in school. Disorganized chaos, so different from the organized memorial of the rest of the space. It almost seemed...used.
This whole wing was surprise after surprise.
Auden figured she had her work cut out for her. What was supposed to be a quick peek was shaping up to be a task in record keeping. Maybe Dorian was using his father's office after all, keeping some of his more private thoughts and things away from his mother's prying eyes. The handwriting on some did seem similar...
Except, after a quick look at the top few papers, Auden realized that was not the case at all.
There were bills and invoices that made no sense, the words swimming off the page. Curse her lapse in Portuguese lessons! And after that, hand made notes in Portuguese as well, the only word that made any sense: Sintra. There were letters too, ones signed from Governor Ermani at least a decade old, some dated as far back as two decades. The use of exclamation points and money signs were jarring, matching the invoices she'd just put aside.
And then -
Auden gasped. Her heart raced. Nausea swept through her like a tidal wave.
Another surprise. The worst kind of surprise.
There, at the bottom of the stack, was a death certificate from nearly twenty-five years ago. Except the name on the certificate wasn't the King's.
It was Dorian's.