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Chapter 30
Iwoke up to shouts and the sound of running footsteps. I had fallen asleep in the early morning hours, not too long ago, so my eyelids still felt heavy.
The morning sun was shining through the windows, filling my room with daylight.
I sat up and waited for one of the servants or Frida to open the door and assist me in dressing. Judging by all the turmoil out there, the feast must have been in full preparations already. But no one came, so I washed and dressed in a simple, purple silk gown and decided to search for my father. I needed to speak to him about King Algar and his attempt on my life. I also wanted to discuss my engagement in more detail. If I was lucky, Alrick was already awake and talking to him, hopefully broaching the subject of King Algar and the awful accusations we were going to place on his head.
I brushed my short hair and pinned it back behind my ears. This way, it almost looked like I had a bun in the back.
Carefully, I opened the door. The guards in front of my door exchanged nervous looks, then looked away. They were most likely just embarrassed that they had left my door last night when Alrick had come in.
I made my way down the hallway, almost getting run over by a young maid. She briefly bowed and ran off. Most of the other servants did the same, avoiding me with looks of worry on their faces.
“Cousin Ulf must run a tight ship,” I mumbled to myself. I understood why this feast was so important. My father was his sponsor, but all of this seemed too much of a spectacle. And where was Frida? Was she also running around like she was part of the disturbed ant pile, shouting demands in the kitchen for fresh flowers and the foods my father liked?
I walked down the stairs and turned left to where Ulf had shown us the formal hall, which was a combination of a dining hall, medieval ballroom, and a library of sorts. I walked in, but much to my surprise, there were no tables set up yet. It was completely empty.
The urgent shouts of soldiers outside caught my attention, so I made my way over the stone floor to the large windows at the end of the hall.
I found the same chaos out there. Soldiers were jumping on and off horses, yelling, shouting words I could not make out.
This didn’t seem right. Something was going on here. Something odd. Had my father decided to go to war with King Algar? Or had he found out I had been intimate with Alrick before marriage and was arranging for us to leave?
A cold shiver ran over my skin, sprouting goosebumps. I needed to find Father now!
I spun around and was about to make my way back through the dining hall when Alrick stormed through the door, followed by Henrike and Frida. They all stared at me, eyes and mouths open. Frida looked as if she had been crying, her eyes red and swollen. I swallowed, glancing from face to face.
“What—” I was barely able to force the word out of my clenched chest when a wave of soldiers thundered into the hall, pushing Alrick, Henrike, and Frida aside like a herd of wild stallions trampling over flowers.
I stumbled backward in fear of my own soldiers, unsure if they intended me harm.
“Stop!” I yelled, my shaking hand pointing at the mass of shining armor, but they didn’t listen. Instead, they came to a halt only feet away from me, then fell to their knees and bowed their heads deeply.
“My Queen!” they shouted, hundreds of them. My heart was hammering against my chest, and I could barely breathe.
Trembling, I scanned the crowd in front of me. It filled every inch of the hall, all the way out the door. It seemed to be going past the hallway.
My gaze found Alrick, who was the only one not bowing. He was standing tall, his serious eyes staring at me as if the world was about to come to an end.
It took another moment until I started to gather my thoughts. A hot tear ran down my cheek even before I dared to form the words in my head.
Queen, they had called me. Not Highness, not Princess...Queen.
My father...
Was.
Dead.
But how? How, how, how!
My legs turned to dough, and I almost fell to the ground. I wanted to weep and scream my lungs out. Instead, I turned to face the window, grasping onto the sill to avoid falling. I couldn’t bear to look at the soldiers bowing in front of me any longer. I kept my back turned to them, as if it would make them go away, and blinked rapidly. Tears fell down my cheeks, one bursting drop at a time.
“My Queen,” a man called out from the crowd. My shaking hands wiped my tears away as I gasped for air. Would I pass out from lack of air?
For some strange reason, my father’s voice echoed in my head. No, not my father’s, my own. It told me to compose myself and show the strength and leadership worthy of the ruler of the Rhine Kingdom. For my father, my mother...and myself.
With a shaking breath, I turned to find an older knight kneeling in the first row of the crowd next to Ulf and his wife Annika, who were both still in nightgowns, trembling in shock.
