As I made my way down the steep staircase that led to the door hidden behind the thrones, I heard my husband’s muffled voice. I smiled to myself, glad I would not have to seek him further, but my smile disappeared when another voice reached my ears.
“Is the old man even still alive?” Edgar asked, making no attempt to disguise the scorn in his voice.
“He is quite alive, yes,” Branford replied. I could hear the strain in his voice as he fought to keep control. I stopped at the bottom stair and opened the door a crack. I could not see them, but I could hear them better.
“Are you waiting for his flesh to rot before you take your place on the throne,” Edgar asked, “or are you simply too unprepared and frightened to take the place that is only barely your birthright?”
Even though I could not see him, I knew my Branford well enough to know his fists were clenched and his jaw tight.
“When King Camden feels the time is right, I will take his place on the throne,” Branford said. “The exact time of that occurrence is not your concern.”
“Not my concern?” Edgar said with a short laugh. “All of Silverhelm is my concern, Branford. Surely you see that now.”
“You hold a place on the court here,” Branford replied. “Silverhelm is a sovereign nation, and the only ones involved in the succession of the throne are my family.”
I could hear movement and the shuffling of feet, and I strained to hear better.
“Silverhelm will be mine, you know,” King Edgar said in a low voice. “It is only a matter of time.”
“I am tiring of your threats,” Branford responded. He had managed to regain some of the control in his voice again. “We have done everything you have asked to mainta
in peace between our kingdoms. There is only so much one can give.”
“But there is always more I can take!” Edgar announced. His voice turned low. “And take I shall. You go ahead and hold out as long as you can, but when I am through with you, your pathetic kingdom will be under my control.”
I felt a shiver run through me, and I pushed my back up tighter against the inside wall of the stairs.
“If Silverhelm is so insignificant, why do you continue to demand more of me?”
Edgar cackled, and the high pitched sound made yet another shudder run up my spine. His voice deepened as he snarled out his words.
“Because there was once a man who thought he could live in my shadow and continue to look down upon me. He ignored his duty and refused to unite our lands for the greater good. Now his son tries to do the same? No. Not again.”
“What is this?” Branford’s voice rose slightly. “My father?”
Edgar’s bitter laugh filled the hall again.
“If you had spent more time studying in your youth than you did lying with your whores…but it does not matter now, does it? You have demonstrated quite affectively that common women cannot bear kings. You have two at your beck and call, but there is no decent place for your seed to find purchase, is there?”
“Hold your tongue.” Branford’s voice went soft and cold. “I will tolerate your threats and your insults only so far. Do not speak ill of my wife.”
“I am only stating fact, Sir Branford,” Edgar said. “Has she become with child since I was last here?”
There was a moment of silence between them.
“I did not think so.” Another cold snicker. “And your commoner concubine is also unable to carry your child, correct? It is obvious, and it is time you admitted it. These women cannot carry your child. You need a royal woman for your seed.”
“We have been over this time and time again—”
“Whitney is your rightful wife!” Edgar shouted suddenly. “She should be at your side in the eyes of the public, and she has the fortitude to both stand as queen and bear your heirs. Look at Margaret, who has borne me four children. Whitney is of the same stock, and marrying her will secure the independence of Silverhelm in the future.”
It was Branford’s turn to laugh.
“Independence? With your daughter on the throne beside me? Perhaps I didn’t study enough, but I am not a fool, Edgar.”
Edgar chuckled low.
“We shall see who is the most foolish in time, shall we not?”