The feud within the castle walls

Freda Lavar sat in the midst of a dome-shaped chamber on a lavish red velvet seat ornamented with blue glinting jewels and gold lidded armchairs. A giant golden candelabra stood at the center of a long table where the twelve ministries sat with their backs on the mosaic walls. Freda Lavar scanned each of their grim faces. The extravagance of their coat did very little to hide the splinter of their age. Freda grimaced, crown laying heavily at the top of her head. Despite her superb splendor, she can’t help feeling like an unwanted creature in the midst of these high-ranking men. She glanced at her own vague reflection on the marbled floor, silvered torque clasped at her neck glinting from the torch lights making it difficult for Freda to breathe. Freda felt her back moistened with cold sweat. She had sat at her throne for hours listening to these old men bawl about their own businesses not even bothering to consult their queen. Freda felt her chest boiled with revulsion. Since her first reign in the kingdom of Valindkhar, not a single one of these ministries listened to her opinions. She gazed at the mosaic walls and its wide spectrum of colors; in all the castle walls, it was the only thing that captivates Freda’s eyes. She stared at it longingly, somehow it reminded her of her old place in Dinaqhi. A burst of laughter snapped Freda out of her reverie. Freda glanced at the ministries, High lord Gobhar, a gray-haired man with pale gray eyes and paper-thin skin was now advancing at Freda’s direction. He held his right hand to his chest and bowed at Freda. His gold leather robe hung loosely around his waist. He stared back at Freda; his eyes grim despite the slight curve of his lips. “Your majesty.” Freda swallowed a lump on her throat, she knew exactly who this man is. Gobhar Tafther, minister of justice the man who was the first to pronounced his doubts against Freda Lavar. Freda felt her chest tighten with revulsion. She nodded at Gobhar and gestured him to stand. "Your majesty, these documents are in need of your signature." Freda sighed heavily. As she lifted the papers to read what was stated , whispers began to emerge from the ministry table. Gobhar cleared his throat, his gloved hand tapping on the sides of his trouser. “Your majesty, just your signature.” Freda scanned the paper ignoring Gobhar's arrogance. "Proposal for the elevation of labor taxes?" Freda muttered . "Indeed, your majesty," Gobhar replied his voice growing with distaste. Perhaps he is not used to being questioned by his superior. Freda thought. Perhaps they still see me as a commoner dressed in jewelry. Seeing Gobhar's dissatisfaction has somehow brightened Freda's mood. "And what good will these do?" Freda responded. Before she was proclaimed as queen, Freda worked her w. "Pa-pardon me, your majesty?" "High lord Gobhar, perhaps I should ask you a question, have you cleaned your ears this morning?" The chamber grew in silence. Within seconds, all forms of conversation descended into thin air. Freda felt their eyes lurking in her skin like leeches. Before she was crowned as the new queen, Freda Lavar was a woman who lived within the shadows of the nobles. She hungered for attention, that she risked her life to sit in the midst of this old chamber. t the first month of her term, all except the commoners have expressed their dispute against the proclamation. Once it had pained Freda so much that she almost ended her life on her own bed-chamber. "Your majesty, with increased labor taxes the-the ministry will be able to expand our resources by producing more lands and trades." Gobhar's replied, his face red with anger. This man needed a slap in the face. Freda thought. "Now, now tell me Gobhar, why would your hand scratch on someone else skin?" the ministry of justice stood in front of Freda; hands clenched into a fist. “Your majesty, you are well aware that this is a matter of importance, we should not sit idly and wait for Renogav’s return.” Freda grimaced. “May I inform you Gobhar, that it isn’t your decision nor initiative that is needed here in this case.” “Of course, your majesty.” Gobhar replied his voice filled with contempt. “But this is an immediate case, this-” Freda cut him off in the midst of his sentence. Gobhar stood stiffly in front of Freda his face red with anger and shame. “I will not be spoken to without respect.” Freda said, her voice colder than blisters of ice. She stood from her throne, her emerald silk dress flowing like a gentle river. She lifted the parchment on her hands and ripped it in front of the ministry's startled faces. They gasped and the silent curses began to fill the room. Freda gazed at their open-mouthed faces. She crumpled the parchment in her palm and threw it on the ministry table. “We’ll talk about this again, and you will not pretend that I do not exist.” Freda muttered. As she was about to leave her chamber, a loud thud emerged from the door.  City guards opened the doorway revealing a man on a red stallion. He mounted off his horse and walked towards Freda, his right-hand clutching the hilt of his blade. His silvered shard plate reflected the blinding rays of sunlight, face hidden beneath his helm. The whole room stood in deafening silence; Freda felt her throat itch. As the newcomer made it a few inches from where Freda stood, he knelt on the marbled floor, lifted his helm showing a shock of bright golden hair, and bowed his head. Gobhar cleared his throat. There was an astonishing change in his countenance, eerily enough, the ridiculous shade of his face was replaced by the familiar sly curve of his lips. Freda clenched her hands on her dress. It sickens her, somehow the image of Gobhar made Freda’s stomach tighten into a knot. And now this... “Your majesty,” Gobhar muttered, his voice prouder. “This is prince Lionel; you may know the rumors about king Gavilar and his otherwise encounters with a commoner named Haina of Franzia.” Freda sat back on her lavish throne; she knew where this was going. Being the daughter of the king does not exempt her from whispers coming from the castle walls. She knew her father was a great ruler, even before he was proclaimed as king, he had already gained prominence as a man of great nobility, a gallant commander, and a high prince. She also knew her father’s marriage with the former Queen, Esmeralda was against his will. “As stated on Valindkhar’s rule of monarchy,” Gobhar continued, he was now unrolling a brown parchment handed by his apprentice. “Any man a high prince, a noble, a commoner, or a slave if proven to have blue blood shall have the freedom to seek the throne.” “You have any proof of this allegation?” It was lord marshall Byron who finally spoke after hours of his silence. “Goodness! Lord marshall, I am the minister of justice, I am well aware of the law." Gobhar prodded. "Very well, proceed," Freda responded. "Your majesty, these are the papers, letters including the king's communication with his mistress, the proof-of the said allegations." Gobhar said his broad smile showed a glimpse of his bright teeth. He handed the documents to Freda and motioned the newcomer to stand. The newcomer hesitated but then do as he was told. He stared at Freda, and indeed his eyes bared a mere resemblance to those of the king. His crooked nose and the fine structure of his jaw was unsettling in its own familiarity. Freda stood aghast, for a second she thought she was looking straight into her father's eyes. Once again, she felt small and unrelenting. The stroke of courage she felt earlier evaporated into the thin air. "Er, your majesty?" Freda clutched her hands on the gold lidded throne, sweat trickled on her breast. One of her handmaid's handed her a glass of wine. She waved her hand in dismissal and sat fingers tracing the torque on her neck. As she regained her composure, she cleared her throat and peered at Gobhar. "What are you implying Gobhar?" Gobhar cackled hands crossed over his chest. "Your majesty, you know exactly what I mean." "A man-" he added, "is more preferable for the throne! He is indeed a blue blood."