The Red Throne | TUQ Book Two

20 | repentance

Anna-Claudia was not the only one who had her titles returned. Phoenicia still has one more princess who has been robbed of her birthright, although returning it back to her might be a bit tricky.

If Cecily were to become a Princess again, her husband, my brother Gilbert could never become a soldier again, and he would have to abdicate his newly gained position of Commander of the Royal Army.

If I could return Cecily her titles and let my brother still have his position, I would. But it is not I who made the rules.

These rules were set forth hundreds of years ago, with the purpose of protecting the daughters of the King.

As their husbands could never become soldiers, the likeliness of them dying on the battlefield would be greatly reduced. These husbands could not hold any titles other than Prince Consort either, to ensure that they would not become overly ambitious and meddle in the succession of the royal family.

Essentially, they were like children, except that they had to remain that way and become children for the rest of their lives. They were sheltered and protected by the royal family, but they could have no ambition, and absolutely no political nor military power.

That sort of life would absolutely ruin my brother, which made me reluctant to return Cecily her titles.

"Have you both been quite well ?" I questioned amiably, and my brother bowed deeply, almost comically in return.

"We have been very well, Your Majesty," he replied, trying his best not to laugh. In public, he had to call me 'Your Majesty', and I was to refer to him as 'Commander'.

I greatly despised this, as it reduced our brother and sister relationship to a mere relationship between a subject and his queen.
We initially ignored the protocols and called ourselves 'Gil' and 'Annie' like we used always do, but Tweedledee secretly reported to my husband that I was being informal and showing too much favour to my maiden family.

From then on, we used the correct, more acceptable titles, but we always spoke them in an exaggerated, awkwardly dramatic tone.

There were quite a few courtiers around, simply loitering the area. Tweedledee and Tweedledum's spies, I am sure. These little bugs kept their ears open and feasted on every word that we spoke, saving the best bits for their master.

I glared sharply at Edmund who sat on the throne beside me, and as if he was capable of reading my mind, he loudly cleared his throat and sternly said, "Leave us."

The courtiers scurried out like a rat would if it saw a cat, leaving the court bare and empty. I could finally let out a sigh of relief, and I beckoned Gilbert and Cecily to come closer.

"I have summoned you both to discuss about the matter of Lady Cecily's titles," Edmund began, his eyes flickering towards Gilbert. "I intend to keep the promise that I made, Cecily, but do you know what the consequences will be if I return your titles back to you ?"

Cecily timidly shook her head. "I do know, Your Majesty," she spoke. "It is not I who will pay the price. My husband will."

My brother stoically stood in the middle of the court, all eyes sharply trained on him. The tips of his fingers brushed against the hilt of his sword, as if he were reminiscing his glorious days on the battlefield.

However, I knew that there was not much to recall about. His golden days had just begun, and now he is at risk of losing it all. If I could change the rules, I would. But I could not.

Last night I had spoken of this to Edmund. If only we could change the rules, then my brother's position would not have been jeopardised. But instead of relenting, Edmund reminded me that our firstborn was a daughter.