How to Break a Vow and Make it Count
or A Tale of Love and Betrayal
The Queen sat on the edge of the bed staring down at her dying husband.
He looked smaller now that he was confined to his bed. His larger than life personality had been subdued. Replacing it was a wheezing with each labored breath he took. She didn’t pity him. He had lived as he wanted despite his responsibilities. No, there was no love lost between them. He had taken her as a wife as he was required. She had maintained relations with him as she was required. Neither had given each other what they wanted.
She knew he was going to send her back to her homeland. He had hinted as much a year earlier when the sickness started to spread. She wiped her hands upon her silk gown trying to remove the slimy feel of the salve she had been applying to his chest at all hours for the last week.
She played nurse because it was all so should do in these remaining days. She may not have loved him, but she would not have her memory tarnished due to a lack of common decency.
His voice broke her thoughts.
“What did you say, Paul?”
She gave no inch to his discomfort. Ramrod straight, she sat at the edge of the bed just out of his reach. He turned his head towards her so his voice would carry, a losing battle he was having with his breath.
“It’s time you go.”
The King closed his eyes to fight back the urge to start coughing again. He had grown to hate the sound of his own breath. His wife was another matter entirely. He had never truly loved her but he had always admired her dutiful support of his reign.
She hid her annoyance at his weakness. She had grown to dislike him throughly since he took to his bed. She plastered a look of concern on her face before speaking.
“I must stay with you.”
He shook his head.
“You have been the most faithful among all. Go, live your life as you have always desired.”
His words sparked a flame of anger in her. She stood abruptly. She had always seen to all her duties until completion.
All except one.
“I have given you my life. You know this.”
Her words sounded bitter, even to her. He nodded, eyes remaining closed.
“At least look at me one last time.”
He looked upon her. She saw that the light that once animated his eyes had gone out entirely. This shell of a body wasn’t the King she had known. This was a frail human container, nothing more.
“Remember your promise.”
His voice was firmer, commanding. She would obey because her failure to do so was his legacy lost. She would not have wasted twenty five years in vain.
She nodded her accent, turned and walked out of the room.
The scribe entered as the Queen was leaving. The Queen paused watching as the thin girl, barely a women, walked past her. She looked disheveled due to being called to the King’s room in the middle of the night. Head high, the Queen walked out of the room closing the door firmly behind her.
The scribe had arrived at the palace two years before surround by gossip. As the only woman to ever attend the university, she knew that it was the King that had made them accept her in the first place. Her father had fought along side the King, her attendance was a vow fulfilled. Which was why she wasn’t altogether shocked when the request to report to the palace happened only a month after graduation.
“Your Majesty,” she curtsied.
He had taken her on as a personal scribe. She was overseen by only two others. Both men disliked her intensely, only tolerating her because of their dedication to the King. Paulina noted that neither man was present.
She pulled up a heavy wooden chair, sitting as close to the bed as was proper. She slid out of her ink, pen, and scrolls from her satchel then looked towards the King, ready for instruction.
“Paulina, come closer.”
The King’s voice had been unused for days which left it sounding like a whisper compared to the strong, benevolent leader he once had been.
She did as instructed while trying to fight back the blush that was slowly creeping up her neck. The fact that the King knew her name seemed ridiculous despite being her patron for years. The familiarity was outside of propriety, however he was her King and she would never correct his informality.
“You must wait to write. I’m going to tell you something first.”
His breath was coming in fits now, his eyes were streaming with the effort. The struggle was challenging to listen to. Paulina was a woman of action, sitting and watching him struggle to breathe simply wasn’t in her nature.
“Your Majesty, please let me get someone to help you.”
She stood up but the King raised his hand. She stopped her movement and began looking around for something to assist him.
A glass sat next to the bed with a warm colored liquid in it.
“Can you take some of this?”
She held up the glass catching a whiff of strong whisky.
He was coughing violently while shaking his head no. She set the glass back down and reached for the salve that sat next to it. It was well beyond her duties to even consider touching the King, let alone applying something to his chest but she couldn’t just let him suffer. She looked towards the door hoping someone would enter. The door remained shut.
There was nothing else to do but apply the salve herself. She reached forward gently touching the Kings hand. He grabbed at hers with a pleading look. She held up the salve, he nodded.
The bed was wide. Larger than anything she had ever seen. She tried and failed to reach him.
“I’m going to have to climb up if I am to reach you.”
His breathing was shallow, the coughing had stopped but he was clearly struggling.
He squeezed her hand in acceptance. She hiked up her dress enough to climb up and sit just on the edge so she could lean over while applying the concoction to his chest where his open dressing gown revealed frail skin and bones.
The pungent smell made her eyes water as she layered the medicine. The King lay eerily still. His breathing eased slightly. The coloring in his face seemed to come back just a little.
Pushing back off the bed, she then cleaned her hands and returned to her seat with a small sense of relief. The King was staring at her clear eyed in a way she hadn’t seen in him in weeks.
“Let me speak, no questions. Understood?”
Paulina nodded, it wasn’t her custom to ask the King any questions but she didn’t need to point that out.
“I am going to tell you something and then you are going to call my counsel in to hear it again as another scribe writes. Do you understand?”
He took a few more breaths after she nodded her acceptance.
“I have asked you here because…”
He paused. It wasn’t due to lack of breath. Her presence mixed with the salve had made breathing easier than it had in days. Once he spoke, the truth would finally be shared with all. He wasn’t ready for it but he had no more time to waste. He had waited too long already.
“Because I am making a change to the line of succession.”
Paulina was now confused but she honored the silence requested of her by only tilted her head slightly in question. He loved how she obeyed while still conveying her thoughts. All of his advisors and courtiers drove him crazy with their chatter. They were good people, but they didn’t listen as they once had. They had become crows awaiting a meal.
Paulina leaned slightly forward trying to understand why the King was talking this way and to her of all people!
“I’m sure you’re wondering why I brought you here a few years ago to become one of my scribes.”
Paulina nodded slowly. The confusion of the subject change had her guessing even more now.
“It wasn’t as I told it. The story of hearing about you from an old school Master wasn’t entirely truthful. No, I have known of you far longer than that.”
She knew this, but again choose to say nothing. He sighed, staring at her thick brown hair that shown in the dim candle light. A vision of health. She had been woken from bed, he was certain. She had dressed quickly, coming as she was commanded. He hated that she had always been commanded.
“Your mother was a great women.”
His voice broke. Paulina sat up straighter, eyes wide. She was struggling not ask questions.
“I had loved her since I was a boy. Her village was the access point for our outings when on holiday. I spent every moment I could with her, once I met her.”
He spoke with a gravity that pressed upon her shoulders.
“I don’t understand.”
A numb sensation way drifting its way up her legs, quickly overtaking her body.
“No, you don’t. It had to be that way. I am sorry.”
He reached his hand out towards her, she simply blinked at it.
“Sorry for what?”
Her question came out as a whisper. She could not meet his eyes. Her brain was feverishly trying to piece together the manic pieces of information she was receiving.
“For the life you had to live because of me.”
“I still don’t understand.”
Her eyes were a deep chestnut brown, he knew that. He couldn’t see them in the light but he imagined them as he closed his own willing the right words to come to him. The weight of his promises to her mother, to the Queen that never loved him, to his father that made it all a secret. He had never broken this vow above all because he couldn’t. Not until he knew what he must do to right this wrong.
“What I am say is this: I am your King, yes. I am also your father.”
Even in the dim light Paulina could see the King had told true but she couldn’t believe it. He held her gaze even as his body shook at the effort. He didn’t have time to convince her but perhaps someone would come to tell her the story of love and betrayal.
“I think you must be mistaken, Sire. I have a father.”
That’s all she could think to say as the world seemed to spin slightly off kilter. His sickness was clearly overtaking his sense of reality, she felt sick at the thought.
“There is no mistake. The Queen will verify your parentage. As will the priest that Christened you.”
He reached his hand out again willing her to take it. She looked down at it now. It was thin, sickly in color. The sickness had spread more than she had realized. With a dawning realization Paulina looked up, wide-eyed in shock. All his requests, notes to foreign dignitaries, the call of the council this week.
“What do you mean to do, your Highness?”
He took in her look of fear and knew it for what it was, the truth of why she was really here. He must make it right before he left this earth and could never fix it.
“I plan to make you Queen.”
His voice was solid, firm, decided.
She stared at him in bewilderment, then began to laugh. A story of love and betrayal indeed was all he thought as she laughed until she cried.
The story of the King has been visiting for the last few days. Since he was insistent as well as patient with my schedule, I made a point to capture what he showed me. Pieced together from multiple perspectives, I can only hope I have given you a bit of entertainment. Paulina has stuck with me. I believe we will be seeing her again soon.
Love from the Ocean,
Lenaleah 💕