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In one of the Hawthrone castle rooms, King Laurence walked back and forth with his hands wringing together as he tried to think of a solution to the possible damage that was going to hit him.
Being the King of Devon was his birthright, something that purely belonged to him. From a young age, the thoughts of how he was the only person who was eligible to get the throne had been put into his head. His father had affairs with women, and when Laurence grew up, he made sure to kill the male heirs who would be a threat, by framing them to be guilty.
But now, thanks to the East land's King, he was going to lose the throne. Either to the neighbouring Kings or to his very own sister, Rosamund who had a son. Compared to the other lands, Devon was weak when it came to its strength. A few years ago, when Laurence's father was ruling the Kingdom, he had thoughtlessly sent his men for war without proper planning, and had lost half of the men where his father left him a land that was broken.
He continued to pace in his room when the doors opened, and in came his wife, Samara.
"I have been looking for you all over the castle. No one knew where you were," said Lady Samara on seeing her husband and walking inside the room, "What are you doing here?"
King Laurence looked at his wife's maid who stood behind. He waved his hand for her to leave. The maid bowed her head and left the room before closing the doors behind her.
"We are in trouble," King Laurence spoke through his gritted teeth.
Lady Samara could see her husband looked tense, and it was too early in the day for him to be in the room when he was supposed to be dealing with matters that concerned the kingdom in the royal court.
"What do you mean?" frowned the lady with a questioning gaze.
"Now or later, soon we are going to lose the power on the throne," his head turned to look at the bed.
Following her husband's line of sight, Lady Samara looked at the bed where a scroll of parchment laid. She walked towards it, picking it up in her hands, and started to read it out loud,
"To the King and the Queen of Devon, I hope you are doing well and are in good health to read what is written here in this parchment. This is regarding the treaty made and signed by the previous King, offering peace that we wouldn't attack each other's lands. But word has it that you have been secretly trying to declare a war against us. I would like to remind you that the duration of the treaty has expired, dissolving the prior conditions that were previously agreed upon have now turned invalid."
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Lady Samara stopped and looked at her husband. Worry slowly filled up her eyes as there was more to the letter.
"With the treaty expired, and with you not having a male heir to continue the rule Devon, we would like to take Devon under my with you willingly offering it to us, unless you prefer us to wage a war that would only damage the wealth and condition of the land. There are already other Kings who have been speaking about it, and I thought I would inform you beforehand with an offer. I will be waiting for your response. King Antonio…"
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Lady Samara couldn't believe something like this was going to hit them this early in the day.
"We have to let Queen Morganna know about it," said Lady Samara, "She will have a way to fix and help us. She always does!"
King Laurence shook his head, "She won't this time. Her help will only damage it," gritting his teeth, he said, "She wants to give the throne to Markus, claiming him to be the next King."
"What?" Lady Samara looked taken aback, "But Markus is not-"
"He is still a young boy, but mother plans to have control over the throne. To rule it through him!" spat King Laurence in anger, his blood boiling since he had read the news.
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Queen Morganna tried to manipulate her son, making him rule Devon the way she wanted it to be ruled, but there were some things that her son didn't agree with her. The King had his ego and pride, not wanting to listen to a woman who was not worth listening to as they were unfit to be taking part in the ruling. He had acquired his nature from his deceased father.
"There should be another way!" said Lady Samara, "Because the throne cannot be passed until the King passes away, you still rule…" and her voice trailed, her imagination starting to run wild.
King Laurence, who stood next to the fireplace where at the top there were decorative items made out of ceramic, he pushed them away, like a child who was throwing a tantrum.
"I need a fucking son! My own blood to be sitting on the throne!" he looked at his wife with a hateful expression, and Lady Samara gulped.
Tears were quick to appear in the lady's eyes, and she said, "I tried, Laurence, you know I tried!" but for some reason, she had been cursed with miscarriages.
But Laurence wasn't pleased with the answer. It was because that was not what he wanted to hear from her!
"Leave!" he shouted, making Lady Samara flinch because of his loud voice in their room.
Anger and pain passed through the woman's eyes, and she quickly turned around and left the room while composing herself. Laurence tried to think hard on what to do before something finally flashed in his mind.
He quickly went to one of his cupboards and started to pull out the drawers one after another, searching for something that he had thrown somewhere in here years ago. When he finally caught sight of the half-torn letter, his eyes zeroed in on the words written in there.
"Guards!" he shouted, and the guards who stood outside the room quickly came in, bowing their head. "Find the woman named Constance. Find her right now and bring her to me!"
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