the haunted kingdom, Charles E.J. Moulton [chrome ebook reader TXT] 📗

colours of their dress look like flowers on the green grass. The breeze made the clothes tip and fly a bit and against the view of the royal grounds the scene seemed so perfect and so much like paradise for everyone that it made Belinda happy to be alive.
"Happy birthday, my love!" Alexander said when the song was finished.
"Thank you, father!" Belinda smiled back.
She walked a few steps with her father, who embraced her, whilst the crowd sang along with Bantrard’s song.
“How are you, love?” She smiled back at him. “Honestly now. No bedroom roses for me here. Leave those for the Prince Regent.”
Belinda smiled. “Morgana gives me little cynical comments about how she dislikes me suspecting her.” She looked her father deep in the eyes. “I throw my vulgar Latin at her.”
“I saw you throwing raisins at her,” Alex chimed in. “Don’t know ‘bout the Latin.”
”You saw that?” He nodded.
“Sorry.” He shook his head. “Control your temper.”
“I shall.” He patted her on the shoulder and looked down into the valley.
“Steven promises me his fidelity.”
“You should believe him,” Alex chuckled. “He hates Morgana.”
Belinda looked down. “I want to. He kisses everyone, or so he says. He loves me. I love him. It’s fine. Don’t worry about me.”
”I kiss everyone hello as well. You do, too. I wish I could help you. You flirt with men, too.”
“It’s fine. I am just being silly.” Belinda said, nervously and waved with her right hand.
”I can understand that you are under pressure. The inquisition with the messenger has brought a great deal out of you, hasn’t it.”
”I want to forget it, father” she snapped. “Forget the whole thing ever happened.”
Alex nodded, surprised at her harsh tone, but sighed and gave his Belinda a kiss on the cheek.
“All right!” He looked up. “Dusk. Time to go in, I think.”
Belinda nodded and began to gather the servants together to pick up the blankets and food. Patrick came up to her and began to talk whilst she walked around putting empty wine bottles in Marie-Louise’s basket.
“Nice song, Lindy!” He was holding a piece of bread and a wine bottle.
She looked up, surprised. “Oh,” she said. “Thanks, Patrick.”
“You haven’t sung the whole song in years.”
”I used to irritate you with that one.”
“You know what?”
”What?” Belinda asked as she crossed the lawn and picked up Morgana’s blanket, shook it off and picked up a few scattered raisins.
“I’m your older brother.” Belinda looked at him and smiled. “Really? I’ll have to write that one down.”
She smiled at Marie-Louise, who began to giggle.
“And yet, with you I feel you are my older sister. I cannot believe that you are just twenty-one.
Why are you so wise?”
Belinda folded the blanket and gave it to Ruby, who was passing with about five blankets in her arms. “Is that a compliment or an insult?”
“No, it just struck me how someone so young can be so wise.”
“I have had enough of your cynical comments, Pat!”
She crossed the lawn again, turned around and called Ruby back.
“Yes, miss.”
”Can you take these two blankets over here, too?”
”Yes, miss.”
Ruby went over and stood by while Belinda folded them. Patrick followed her, as well.
“Patrick,” Lindy continued. “For a person who was taught to fence at three and play the lute at four and strapped to a wooden table at ten, you’ll most certainly get a result of someone who starts thinking about life early. You are smart, as well, Darling. But you,” Belinda said, pointing at his wine bottle and his crotch, “Have made these little fellows your mentor.” She gave Ruby the blankets. “I would never ever tell my father in an admiring tone how great it is to be unfaithful. Ready?”
“Yes, miss!” Behind her, Patrick was left dumbfounded and muttered:
“Bloody bitch! Bloody damn provocative little bitch!”
”Don’t get feisty with me, Pat!”
Patrick remained behind and screamed after her.
“Now you wonder why I drink! Speaking of alcohol, have you seen my wife? Where is she?”
Belinda called back, “Search her now and not your mistress! She doesn’t drink, you do.”
Belinda passed Eleonore and Maria jabbering about cooking, Sieglinde and Patricia about children and Erica and Roberta of all people squabbling about Patrick. Belinda wanted to interfere, but didn’t. They reached the romantic tree when they all turned left and walked down the path past the poppy field that lead them to the sunflowers to the west with their abundant hills beyond. They passed the royal theatre, the royal stables; when the entourage of fifty came onto the avenue that eventually lead them to the main garden with its fountain hundred feet down. The gravel under their feet crackling and the servants’ arms literally bursting with pain from all the carrying, the entourage was happy to find the door open and Geena welcoming them.
Belinda was the first one to enter the palace. She was happy that she and her sisters along with her mother had spent the entire morning decorating the main hall with flowers. The black and white chequered floor somehow received a heightened beauty in its simplicity with the entire hall full of flowers. The large mahogany staircase was to the brim full of lilies, Sieglinde’s favourite flower and on each side where sunflowers en masse. Soon enough, Belinda was telling everyone that evening meals would be served in an hour and that everyone could go to their various rooms and rest before getting even drunker. Geena, Rolf, Ruby, Marie-Louise, Philip, Marcus and Theo spent the hour making the Grand Hall festive and Bantrard’s band of lovelies helped putting all the glasses in place. Belinda mounted Timothy and rode off to the Waterfall Lake before complete darkness, very angry with Patrick and his innuendo, a very clear sign of sibling jealousy. Patrick took Roberta into a back room and made love to her ferociously.

Thursday Evening, June 4th, 1422 A.D.

It was the place for ceremonial dinners. Anyone who entered it was immediately astounded. When the four sets of Grand Hall mahogany doors, that were placed in the four corners of the room, were opened the visitor's eyes was at once transfixed at its height, the mirrors and the black-and-white chequered marble tiles that covered the floor, often additionally covered with an oriental rug of some kind in its middle and how these seemed to interact.
There was a painting of a beautiful and mounted horse by a lake at sundown on the ceiling, mounted by Alexander and also painted by Maestro Penderesci, a happy, some people said rather chubby, bunch of guests were enjoying themselves on the terrace of a house in the immediate background and there was a man playing the lute and singing next to the horse. Right under the painting Bantrard sat with his orchestra, entertaining everyone. Bantrard wasn’t far away juggling some orbs and occasionally dancing a jig or telling the children jokes.
The large fireplace at the front was quite a sight. The servants kept putting wood into the flames to keep the hall warm. It was quite large and made mostly of marble and sandstone along with little cherubs and angels and two dragons peeked from its corners. There was a large mirror above it, but it was not made for seeing yourself and combing your hair. It was above the fireplace two meters up above ground and quite large.
On the left side were the enormous windows overlooking the grounds, they were leaded glass windows with red-brown-coloured wooden frames. In the middle was the royal coat of arms of Prosperania: the royal eagle surrounded by the five symbols for the individual counties: the bridge for Gargetania, the lion for Starinia, the juggler for Caryllinia, the antelope for Ingolfstadt, and the singer for Kyrilliland. On each side of the Grand Hall were pictures of Iuventus Sacrum and above and below them were lances and swords. Under the largest coat of arms sat Alexander on his throne, a gilded mahogany chair with the eagle on top. He was wearing a blue suit with a red cape and a green, very beautifully embroidered cap that had been especially designed for him.
On each side of the family sat some aide-de-champs and some ladies in waiting. Right opposite them on the wall to the right were paintings of Prosperanian towns painted by royal painters through the years and under them sat Counts and Countesses and friends and distant relatives of various kinds. On the short-end furthest away from the fireplace was a long table where the General and the Bishop Bernardus Paul sat next to many Clurafar Senators and Mormidar who had joined them. Opposite them, on each side of the fireplace, sat representatives from three counties: Margetania and Alliland as well as Neapelonia. In one end of the hall sat Belinda talking to Zeddy. Again, guilt had replaced peace in her stubborn heart. She was covering it up by speaking politics.
"Then what is the answer?" Zed cried. “How can we communicate?”
"We export iron and wheat and potatoes to their country, don't we?" Zed nodded. Belinda continued, "I told the senators this last month; the gold and marble-treasures from Tunisia we make into decorations are one the most popular exports to the Nocturanian palaces. Considering that they lack the skilled craftsmen to do that kind of work. We should be happy we inherited this infrastructure from the Romans, we might as well use it. Considering just how vain they are and how much they love those things, we simply say that if they do not cooperate, we cut the exports. We have enough money coming from other nations. We don't need them to finance our economy. We have no debts."
Belinda shrugged. She led her finger across her throat with a sweet smile to indicate a complete categorical death of trade between the countries. "I think if they attack our allies, they shall have the benefit of our returned favours." She smiled again and Zedrick nodded, reassured. "We bribe them," he said. She smiled.
"Maybe that would be one resolution!"
"Let’s be honest. It may not solve anything. But it’ll give us time. Steven is less sceptical against them than me, for obvious reasons. But I have told him that if he ever meets Lucinda he will change his mind. My scepticism is pure spiritual. His is maybe practical."
"My problem is partially this Adnicul fellow. He is the most non-negotiable fellow I have met. I get shivers running down my spine when I meet him."
"Is that amusing?" Belinda asked, detecting a smile.
"Only the fact that I forget the effect he has on me every time. I rehearse my lines and think of my arguments, tell myself that ‘Oh, yes: now I know what I want. I'll get him, I will, but sure enough then he talks around me and what do you know, sweetie? I leave as poor as I came. Still, I always get the feeling he feels a little out of place in his role as king."
“Everyone says that. I still cannot see why.”
He turned to Belinda. “You know the stories, of course?”
”Of him conquering, ending the dynasty of the very last of the Johnathan-kings with
Lucinda’s help?” Zeddy nodded.
Belinda looked over at her father laughing and talking, very drunk by now, she was very sad. “I know” she responded. “The thought of my aunt escaping the wagon thirty years ago and teaming up with the enemy is tearing him apart. It won’t end without a confrontation, I think.”
Zeddy put a hand in her lap and she took it and caressed it without looking at him.
“There are tales,