Linderald

Chapter One: The Royals

“Where’s your brother? I told him to be in the dining room by eight.” Bella Quinn, the royal born queen in the Linderald Kingdom paced the dining room, anxiously. She wore a long, puffy raven black dress on, with long lace sleeves. It had a wee bit of sparkle on it to create the illusion that she was sparkling in the sun as a real queen would.

“Mother please,” Calvin Quinn, her youngest son, said. “We still have time before the ceremony.” At his mother’s request, Calvin wore a white linen button-down shirt with a blue, velvet coat and matching blue trousers. It matched his naturally platinum blonde hair and light blue eyes that he genetically obtained from his father.

In four hours the crown of the royal kingdom was to be given to the firstborn son of the king and queen. This tradition was established at Linderald in 1603 by Bella’s great grandfather. The crown was originally supposed to go to her older brother, but he died due to unknown reasons. So, instead, it passed on to her, and her newlywed(at the time) husband.

“I don’t think he understands how important this is to the Linderald,” She accused, causing Calvin to roll his eyes. “Don’t you roll your eyes at me young man, I had enough of you as well. Your instructor told me you’ve been lacking during training.”

Calvin sighed in frustration and sat at his usual side of the dining room table, which was in the middle of the table to the left. “He’s expecting too much. Not only does he want me to do physical training, but he’s also making me take simpleton classes like math and history.”

Bella folded her hands in front of her and gave him a mock terrified look. “Oh, how arduous things must be for you!” He nodded in agreement, making it clear to his mother that he had not caught her sarcasm.

“By the way mother, father gave me permission to go to the ball Evelyn’s father is hosting,” he told her while taking a bite of his bread that he coated with cheese. Evelyn was the daughter of a rich landowner named Gabriel Charles, who rented land to the middle class and poor citizens who couldn’t afford to actually buy land. Calvin has been recently trying to court this lady, even though his mother objects. She believed that Evelyn wasn’t a “lady” after all and instead was a common w***e, as many people would put it. On top of that, she was a bit disrespectful, despite knowing that Bella was the queen.

“We are all going, Calvin. But Christ, I have never met a more irritating woman than Evelyn Charles,” She mumbled to herself. Not a second after she said this, her daughter, Beatrice Quinn, paced in the room, glaring at her mother as she took her seat across from her brother.

“Good morning to you, Beatrice,” Bella calmly greeted her daughter as she sat at one of the end seats at the table. Beatrice scoffed. “Have something on your mind, dear?”

“I simply do not understand how this morning could be considered good,” She grumbled. “My brother, who can not even stand the presence of me, is taking the throne.”

“What are you on about?” Calvin questioned, though disinterested.

“What may happen to me when Julius becomes the king.” Bella bit into an apple and discarded the rest of it in the trash she had a servant place beside her.

“Must you do that mother?” Calvin complained. “Such a waste of good food.” Bella shrugged.

“The first bite is always the sweetest, the rest are...eh.”

“Am I such a bore that my own family can’t spare a few seconds to listen to my rants?”

“Bore? Maybe,” Calvin teased. “Daft? Definitely!” She shot him a scowl and angrily chewed on a roll of buttered bread.

“Sweetheart, despite your delusions, I’m sure your brother would take good care of you when he becomes king,” Bella guaranteed. “As he will us.” The tension that sat on her shoulders seemed to be still there, but nevertheless she carried on eating her breakfast.

“Bella my dear,” Sterling Quinn, the king for a couple of more hours, greeted his wife. He wore a white button-down shirt with a black vest on top of it and a black long-tailed trench coat. He wore grey trousers with black dress shoes. Upon hearing his voice, Bella and her two children instantly sat up and bowed to the great king himself.

“At ease, children. When the clock hits noon, I will no longer be the king.”

“And, oh, how dreadful that is!” Beatrice whined.

“How so?”

“My word is nothing compared to his...”

“That’s simply not true,” he assured.

“But, is Julius really fit to run the kingdom?” She asked, attempting to install doubt inside their minds. “Father, you know how his anger gets in the way of—.”

“Enough!” Bella demanded. “I will not have you speak ill about my son.”

“Your son is her brother,” Sterling reminded her. “Are they really siblings if they do not argue from time to time.”

“Yes! Families love and support each other!” She protested.

“Like you are such a saint.” Bella’s lips parted before snapping closed. “When your brother was to be king, did you support him?”

“Father?” Calvin asked, timidly. Almost innocently. “What do you mean by that? Mum and Uncle Patrick were the epitome of siblings before he passed.”

“There is no such thing as an epitome of any family members,” Sterling lectured, rudely, as he continued chewing on his fried meat. “Your mother here knows that better than anyone.” Plastered on Sterling’s face was a taunting grin that Calvin did not particularly enjoy. Nor did he enjoy the constant jab of his mother from his father that they all have to let by because, well, he was the thing and head of the house.

“Well, I’m sure whatever may have happened, it wasn’t your intentions, Mother.” She gave him a small smile and her green eyes lightened up at her son’s generosity. Sterling, however, snorted rudely but decided to let it go knowing that it probably wasn’t in his best interest to talk about what happened to her brother.

After a couple of minutes of silently eating with tension lingering high in the air, in walked Julies Quinn followed by Agora, his personal servant. His refusal to cut his black hair allowed it to grow to his broad shoulders. He wore a button-up, long sleeve, flannel white shirt with a black vest on top and grey trousers. Finally, he wore black loafers that gleamed when hit with light. His green eyes scanned the room and locked eyes with his father. He nodded at him, and he nodded back. No words needed to be said.

“Are you ready to be titled to the king?” Calvin asked, before sipping some tea. Julius shrugged.

“Physically, yes,” he said.

“And emotionally?” Julius did not answer. “Hmm. You know, any other person would be ecstatic to be the ruler of many people, so why the long face?”

“Calvin,” Bella warned.

“It's alright mother. And yes Calvin, I am ‘ecstatic’.”

“Your face betrays you brother,” Beatrice mumbled. Julius sent a glare her way and the tension grew thicker. For reasons unknown, Julius and Beatrice felt it was difficult to get along with each other and each became a burden to their family. Except for Calvin. He rather enjoyed their ceaseless quibbling. Bella cleared her throat and made her way to her son’s side.

“Now that the whole family is here, I have recently discovered something today,” she announced.

“What is it, mother?” She paused.

“A day ago, a new shipment of French workers had arrived in Linderald.” Under Sterling’s order, the Linderald militia invaded part of France’s territory five years ago and enslaved many of their people. They claimed some of their land and many Linderaldians settled down there. “They will be working in this castle.

This was news to Julius. Ever since he was 13, he wasn’t on board with Linderald attacking an unsuspecting country, but it was not his place to question his father. Until this very day.

“Did any of you think to consider how I, the future king of Linderald, in just a few hours, would feel about this?” he hissed.

“This shipment was requested a month ago,” His mother revealed. She sighed. “Please don’t fight me on this honey, we need more workers in this castle.”

“What for mother? You have more than enough slaves in this castle to tend to your needs.”

“They’re called workers dear,” She reminded him. He stole a piece of meat off his brother’s plate which caused Calvin to gasp in mock offense.

“They aren’t workers if they are here unwillingly,” he grumbled. Bella folded her arms and glared at her son.

“I understand your anger at the entrapment of innocent people,” She admitted. “However these specific people are not as innocent as you assume they are.” Julius raised an eyebrow at that.

“Is that so?” She nodded.

“Straight from the French cells.” Julius scoffed.

“And who thought it was such a grand idea to allow criminals in the castle?”

“I did,” Serling announced. “Do you have an issue with my decision, son?” Despite the fact that he was about to officially become the king of Linderald, he knew better than to go against his father’s word. Sterling’s power went far above his title and it would be wise not to assume otherwise. Instead, he clenched his jaw and calmly shook his head.

“Besides,” Bella continued. “I’ve already asked Agora to bring all the criminals with minor crimes, inside the castle.” Julius whipped his head towards Agora and stared at her in disbelief.

“Agora, is this true?” The servant played with the tip of her pinkie finger and timidly batted her eyes.

“Y-Yes, sire,” she stuttered.

“And you did not think to tell me?”

“Your mother explicitly told me not to say anything.” He scowled at his mother but she merely shrugged.

Beatrice laughed bitterly and mumbled, “Not even your servant is loyal to you, what makes you think a whole country would be?” Julius growled lowly.

“Agora, please escort my dear sister to her room,” He ordered, sweetly. “And make sure she does not come out until the end of the ceremony.” Beatrice gasped dramatically and looked at her father expectingly.

“Father!” She cried.

“It is his day BumbleBea.” He sighed, using the nickname he gave her when she was a child as an attempt to ease her. “Your brother is already nervous as it is, he doesn’t need the likes of you making him feel worse.” She scowled and jumped up from her chair. With one last glare to her brother, she stormed out of the dining room, followed by Agora, who, also, took one last glance at Julius. Sterling rose from his seat and marched to the other side of the table where his son stood. Julius stood perfectly still, not even attempting to move any part of him other than the direction of his eyes to follow his father.

“Listen, son,” Sterling started in a serious tone. “Although you might not like it, there is a certain life hierarchy that we live by. And by chance, you are with us at the top. You need to start acting like it. Do not be soft when around inferior beings. If we do not be tough with them, nothing will get done and that furthermore proves you are not fit for being a king. Do you understand?”

Julius paused for a second to reflect on his father condescending advice. His father was right. As a king, he had to make a tough decision and being soft will not help him. But he knew if he could just wipe any of his emotions away, he was not considered human. But he sighed and reluctantly nodded his head.

“Yes sir,” he mumbled. As he said this, the family all heard multiple feets being shuffled across the floor and the clanging sounds of metal chains. A whole new feeling swept him.