The First Trials (The Second Queen Sequel)

Chapter 7

Edward

I step out on the boat and onto the ramp to the docks. I offer my calloused hand to Isabella, she takes it, with a sad smile. She steps out of the boat and tucks her hand in the crook of my arm. A man leads us to a carriage that will take us to the palace. I climb into the carriage and take Isabella's hand, helping her into the carriage. As the carriage door is closed behind her the carriage jolts forward. I stare blankly out the window at the mourning city.

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The carriage stops and the door is opened. We walk through the palace, following the footman to the throne room. As we walk into the throne room, Lucia rises from her throne and stands, with a somber expression on her face. When she sees us, she walks down the three stairs and meets us in the middle of the throne room.

"Welcome to Safire, Isabella, Edward. Thank you for coming all this way. I hope that your journey was not too troubling."

"The journey was pleasant, and we are ever so grateful to God that it was that way. I hope that my wife and I's visit is not a burden."

"There is no such thing as a burdening visit from close friends, Edward."

Isabella bows her head to Lucia before speaking, "Thank you for having us, suo jure, Reina Lucia de Leon; I offer you my greatest condolences on the death of your father."

"Oh hush with the formalities, Isabella, but thank you for coming. Please stay the night."

I offer Lucia a smile, "Thank you, Lucia. How are your siblings responding to your queenship and your father?"

"They are how you say- tipo e irritante. Nevertheless, they are supportive. Eyague has taken father's place at the front. If he doesn't make it back alive mama will raise him back from the dead and kill him herself. Agustin is trying to take on his role as an advisor, I swear he's going to try to work himself to death. Poor Esteban is unconsolable, he will do nothing that reminds him of papa. Mama is trying to remain strong for the twins, Hector and Margarita, but nothing seems to be working. I fear she will work herself to the grave as well, she now has the role of La Madre Reina and is stopping at nothing to make sure everything is perfect at all times."

Isabella regains some of her confidence, "I may not be the expert, but I lost my mother; and it wasn't sudden, we all knew it would happen, but I found that there was comfort found in my mother's favorite places."

"I must agree with my wife, Lucia. Much comfort and peace can be found in their favorite places or things. Hence why I love the Mother's garden so much."

"Thank you, I will pass the information onto my family. Come, dinner should be ready."

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A quick kiss of cold metal touches my shoulder and passes by. The nearly silent hiss of a blade leaving its sheath echoes in my ears. I open my eyes; just enough to see the darkness that fills the room and the man dressed in black, holding a dagger, with a cold smile on his face. I slide my hand off the bed and fumble in the space between the mattress and the bed frame for my sword. I grasp the leather hilt and pull the sword out of its hiding place. I cautiously watch the man as he plays with his dagger for a few seconds before sliding it into a thigh sheath and beginning to unbuckle a sword from his back. I rise and shove the man off the bed. He smiles and draws his sword. "A dance we shall have Your Majesty, and your pretty wife will be here to watch."

I look to the side and see Isabella, her eyes wide open and a half-formed mask building on her face. She throws the covers off and stands on the bed. I throw a dagger to Isabella's feet. She picks it up and rips the sheath off. I parry the man's blows and the blades fly in a dance. Forwards and back, moving in circles, defending ourselves, and attacking each other. I face the bed. The man in black raises his sword to strike. Blood sprays across the bed and floor and the man falls face-first to the floor, a clean slice across the left side and the back of his neck. Isabella stands on the bed, holding the dagger that is shining with blood. I walk around the man's body and drop my sword on the bed. "Isabella," she falls to her knees, blood staining nightgown. Her eyes are wide, her knuckles are white, her right hand clenched around the hilt of the dagger. I place my hand atop her hand holding the dagger, "Let it go. It's alright, drop the dagger."