The Broken Crown

Chapter 38

Raymond

 The attack on the Queen and the lord councilman had shook the courts of Etheron – not just the ones the King and the Queen kept, but all of them, from the north, through the main lands all the way to the south, from where condolences were sent. While the court walked around restlessly with their pale faces drawn into serious expressions, debating the possibility of an exile, Lucretia threw accusations at her younger son. There was nothing wrong, of course; Raymond was not the one to fault, not when the attack happened outside of the castle where crime was not taken as seriously as within the castle.

 His brother had already forgiven him for what he needed to be forgiven for so that they could continue the council meetings without their mother disrupting. The main topic at those meetings was no longer how to stop the uprising; it was too late for that. Now, they discussed the royal exile. Would it happen? If so, where?

 “Tibera remains loyal,” Henri Lamarck stated, “but I’m not sure if it is safe enough.”

 “They would be more than welcome at the Peak,” sir Edward Delroy offered. His family’s stronghold was placed all the way in the north, on the largest of the Volcano Islands.

 “An island might not be too bad an idea,” Henri mused, nodding in agreement.

 Raphael shrugged. “Isn’t there an island just out of the coast of Tibera?”

 Henri chuckled. “Do you mean spit island?” It was a name given to the island as a joke because of its placement. If Tibera was shaped as a face, the island looked like a drop of spit from its mouth. “It’s uninhabited. Unless, of course, you count in rabbits,” he added on a second thought.

 Raphael did not seem to see the joke. “Well, there is a castle, is there not? Besides, I will not send my wife north.”

 “Why not?” Jonathan asked. “She would be safest far away from the rebellion.”

 The King leaned back. “And what if the citizens of the Peak decide to rebel? What will happen then? It’s too far away. And the climate is too cold,” he added. “I think she will be more comfortable in weather she is used to, and I want her to be comfortable.”

 Raymond smiled to himself; for all their differences, Raphael was still his brother. It pleased him that he had found some happiness in his marriage, despite everything. “Spit island it is, then,” he finalized. “Who are we to go against the King, after all?”

 His brother gave him a grateful look and he smiled back. “It’s settled, then,” the King said. “I’ll give her a week to ready herself and her ladies, and then we will send her to her exile.”

 The council began to stand then, preparing to leave. Raymond caught Raphael just as he was about to leave the room.

 “Brother,” he said, grabbing his brother’s upper arm. “Can we speak for a moment? In privacy.”

 Raphael frowned, retreating back in to the council room. Once the last council member had left, he closed the oak door and went to lean on the table. “What is this about?”

 Raymond cleared his throat, not quite sure what to say. “Well, I wish… I wish to announce that I am married.”

 For a moment, Raphael looked as though he could just as well have declared his love for eastern music and bathing naked in ice water. Then, slowly, a beam spread across his lips. He laughed and clapped Raymond on the shoulder. “I see.” He let out another chuckle. “We were beginning to doubt it ever happening. Let me guess, Gabrielle?”

 Raymond furrowed in surprise. “How do you know?”

 Raphael smiled wryly, chuckling again. “She carried your child, brother. We all know that you have shared your beds on many occasions.” Raymond looked down, slightly embarrassed that it had been that obvious. “For how long?”