He held up his hands. “Please, go on. I’m listening.”
She raised her chin and turned sideways in her chair, gazing toward the dancing flames in the hearth.
“The journey is viewed as a rite of passage. The man or woman is blessed by the monks in the abbey that guard the entrance to the caves. The prayers of an entire nation are with the traveler as they seek out their birthright and forge the future of their reign.
“At the coronation, the newly crowned king or queen present the treasures as proof of their merit. The monks judge the validity of their claim then either offer or refuse a blessing on the new ruler.”
Simon absorbed all of the information, understanding dawning on him. “So a new ruler cannot be installed unless they can present the relics?”
She nodded.
He stood once more, his lips drawn in a thin line. “So why assassinate your family? So they can make a claim to the throne? Wouldn’t the monarchy follow a line of succession? And if that is so, you would be the next in line for the throne. How can they—who are they anyway?—possibly expect to take over? Moreover, if they are bent on overthrowing the monarchy, why would they give a care for traditions? It would be just as easy to establish a new regime complete with new laws.”
The questions, all of his confusion and frustration spilled out in a rush. None of it made sense. And he was no closer to learning the truth than he had been from the beginning.
A look of pure hatred clouded her face. “Theyis my father’s chief advisor of military affairs.”
A sheen of tears shone as brightly as the animosity in her eyes. “If I never do anything else, I will make him pay for betraying my family.”
A chill snaked down his spine as she spoke. He didn’t doubt her for a second. “How can he hope to gain control of Leaudor? Even if he was able to produce the relics, surely this wouldn’t give him the throne.”
“In Leaudor, if no livingimmediaterelative of the ruling family can be produced, the next in succession is the minister of foreign affairs. Then the chief advisor of the military,” she said pointedly. “The line stops there. Uncles, cousins, brothers or sisters of the king or queen do not qualify.”
“That seems rather odd,” he said. Not only odd but unheard of.
She continued as if he hadn’t interrupted her. “Long ago, when much of our country was in constant turmoil with wars and frequent changes in the monarchy, a new policy was adopted when Queen Genevieve came to power.
“It was revolutionary, but once implemented, it changed the entire course of our history,” she said with a note of pride. “I am named for her.”
As well versed in foreign policy as he liked to think he was, he was frightfully ignorant of Leaudorian legalities. But then he’d never been forced to travel beyond Leaudorian borders in order to protect England’s interests. Until now.
“What was this new policy?” he finally asked.
“The long line of succession was eliminated,” she explained. “Aside from the immediate family of the ruling monarch, the minister of foreign affairs and chief of military affairs are the only two that can ascend the throne. In the event that none of the aforementioned is able to rule, a new ruler is appointed by the monks ofSacre Foi. They are charged with finding a suitable and righteous ruler amongst Leaudor’s citizens.
“By adopting such a policy, the threat of an outside source seeking to overthrow the monarchy was virtually eliminated. Until now.”
Her explanation ended raggedly, pain accentuating each breath.
“It’s brilliant,” he acknowledged. “No one outside the country would gain anything by overthrowing the government because once gone, the replacement was completely random. But what of military might?” he pointed out. “Surely another nation could completely take over and replace the ruling class. It’s been done multiple times over the course of history.”
“Not without slaughtering every one of Leaudor’s citizens and annihilating our army,” she said firmly. “Leaudorians are legendary in their support, their loyalty. They would take up arms against all forms of invasion. Queen Genevieve’s policy was ingenious. It gives much power to the common people.”
A soft smile curved her lips, and a faraway look entered her eyes. “Did you know,” she began softly, “my father was a common man. He came to power after a terrible accident befell the former king. The young king was sailing with his foreign minister and military chief to Belgium. Their ship was lost at sea. And for the first time, the monks were charged with finding a new ruler.”
Simon leaned forward, captivated by her tale.
“At the time, my father was a young man of two and twenty. He had just married my mother, and the two of them were farming a small parcel of land by the sea.”
Even as she smiled, tears slipped unchecked down her cheeks. The now familiar tightening sensation clutched his chest. Her eyes were alight with love and precious memories of her parents.
“Then what happened?” he prompted.
“The monks came to him and asked him to present himself to the palace for an inquiry. My mother didn’t want him to go,” she said in a near sob. “I wish now he had listened.”
“For a week, he and others were questioned, tested, measured and asked to perform tasks. In the end, they chose him to journey into the caves and seek the relics. The entire country rejoiced when he succeeded. He was loved by many,” she said, her voice finally breaking under the strain of emotion.
For several long seconds, she wept openly, trails of raw pain sliding down her face, disappearing from view.
