the haunted kingdom by Charles E.J. Moulton (snow like ashes txt) 📕

with dignitaries and joked with them. The day had been complete with Steven and her making love under the full moon again on the balcony, before falling asleep. Somehow between one meeting and another she thought of how smart and beautiful she must be to be chosen to be Queen. But that was a silly thought wasn’t it? No, it was the truth.
But Maria, she had never wanted the responsibility. Had her father asked others? Yes, he had, but he had always had Belinda in mind from the start, or so he said.
She was relatively pretty she knew that, too. Someone had said, “very pretty.”
But that had nothing to do with anything.
Belinda was intelligent, just too haunted by memories.
Her father and she met Cretan to discuss the Summer Festival again. There were problems who to invite to the palace and who not. It was Senate business for some reason because the Senate sent out the invitations this year. It was Festival Matter and a Festival Feast and the Senate was responsible. But Belinda couldn’t really concentrate on the list of guests that lay in front of her.
The fact that Steven and she had made up and nothing seemed to stop her from becoming Queen with her future King to be on his way made her think of when she had been appointed Crown Princess as a child in the first place. It had been a tumultuous year.
On the way home from the Senate, Belinda had a long conversation with her father about those early years. But the question that had bothered from day one never was asked. Was she chosen just to make up for the fact that she had gone through Hell in the dungeons of Lucinda’s castle?
Belinda told her father that she would visit the thermal bath in the East Wing for a bit. Alex walked to the throne room and was briefed by Theo about Jack Rumus arrival. Then he put on his robe and went down to the thermal baths for a refreshing dip as well. His two favourite women were probably already there, chattering.
He knew they would pay no attention to him being there King or not. But he could feel happy about sitting naked next to two naked girls in a steaming roman aqua temple.

Monday morning, May 4th, 1422 A.D.

At breakfast the next morning, the young couple sat on the balcony with a spring breeze and enjoyed warm bread with orange paste and lemon tea. The young woman said nothing, just looked out at the trees. His hand was on the table. She reached out and touched it. He looked at her. A smile was exchanged. A kiss blown. They held hands for a while, until he broke the silence.
"Anything on your mind?”
"I am being driven to the Senate to convince them to pass the medication law of natural spices, before holding a meeting here with the 11 representatives. In the afternoon I meet the Harbour Controller Nordhjiil for dinner in the ambassador's guesthouse with my father to speak of the alliance." She sighed.
"God knows that we need support if those people start up another war. I'm very happy we've come this far." Steven said nothing, just held her hand. She stroked his hand with his thumb. "And you?"
Steven knew she was avoiding the subject so he let her avoid it.
"Your old boyfriend Tom Barnes arrives today with his garrison-colonel." He cleared his throat. She nodded. "You don't need to be there." She looked down and looked worried, caressing his hand, thoughtfully. "He is staying a week or so, he'll have time to join the conference. I will show him around as well. He will be bloody impressed by you and the way you've developed since he saw you last."
They looked at each other and Belinda laughed.
"Developed. I love that."
"However you want to call it."
"I was eleven the last time I saw him, Steven."
"He loves you still, you know."
“I gather.” She shook her head. "He'll think I'm… a bitch. Maybe he always has thought I was."
He laughed. "You are, after all you chose me over him." He slapped his own hand. She laughed.
"No, Belinda. He'll enjoy it, I think."
His girl smiled lovingly. “I never meant to hurt him, I hope he knows that.”
“He knows that. He was always a bohemian. He was reckless.”
She looked at him, her gaze tender. "I love you, Steven. I’m happy I chose you."
"So am I."
The painful subject was there between them like an electric spark of lighting hoping to transform into a word or two. He had known her to have dreams before and quite often and every time it happened it hurt him. Belinda looked out across the garden and saw Geena conversing with Louis. He was in the midst of trimming a rosebush and her blond locks falling out that white kitchen cap of her’s made her look like she had fallen out of bed, especially with those red cheeks. Louis exchanged a few words with her and they went on their way, leaving each other to work.
“You had dreams last night …”
She looked at Steven with wide-open eyes. She half-closed them, her fear settling. She nodded.
“Nightmares.” Her words were dazed. She looked back at him and tried a smile. She shook her head and sighed, seeing his patient gaze. An attractively chubby young girl, perhaps a year or so older than the young woman at the table entered wearing a black and white bosom cut dress with laced and puffed shoulders. She curtsied.
"More hot drinks?"
The young princess smiled. "No, thank you, Marie-Louise! You can clear away!"
"Yes, miss!" She smiled back.
"I would like to sit for another minute or so, love!"
"Whatever you say," Belinda said. "Marie-Louise, keep Steven's cup and some food here, will you! Keep an eye on his hands. Don’t let him grab you."
"Yes, miss!" Marie-Louise giggled.
Steven smiled. "Can't I fondle the staff?"
Belinda laughed. “No fondling of slaves, we agreed.”
"Aha!" Steven uttered. "Does that mean..."
Belinda turned around, bent over and kissed him. "Be good. Don't get into fights with Tom now.”
Steven nodded and gave Belinda a kiss before she turned to Marie. "I'll obey, my mistress!"
"Please tell Rolf to prepare my coach. I will be leaving for Clurafar in an hour!"
"Yes, miss!"
"Dress me as soon as you bring away the cups, Marie-Louise!"
"Yes, miss!"
Marie-Louise had been with her mistress for a long time now, but could only bring herself to call the "miss" by her nickname when they were alone. In the presence of Prince Steven, she was shy. She cleared away and was gone. And Prince Steven was left to wonder why Belinda was having nightmares about Lucinda. ‘All right’ she had said. ‘It’s all right’ But he knew it wasn’t.

Simultaneously in another wing of the castle

Bantrard was leaning across his table in his west wing music chamber. His lute was lying on its left side on its back. His long, mostly tidy, blond hair was tousled and he looked like he had been working for hours. He had been. The opera The Coronation of Landrea was almost ready, short of one song, the finale. He had been working on the piece now for half a year, ever since the wedding had been announced for the 25th of September 1422. Yes, of course, the birthday was in two weeks time. But the pieces they played on that occasion they could play sleeping, standing on their heads. Bantrard and his twenty-person ensemble had played on two hundred and fifty official occasions the past year, then there were the unofficial ones. There were bits of parchment paper and papyrus rolls with musical notification scattered all across the oak table. He liked to write on parchment and papyrus, where others used varying methods.
‘Oh, Bantie, dear. Would you come over to Richard and me tonight in our guest-house and play?'
‘Bantrard, an unexpected visitor just arrived from Margetania. Could you play?'
“Stay another hour and play some sensual tunes in the nude?”
...And so on.
Bantrard Silvermoon had a rich, colourful past, was never afraid of saying his opinion and being bold, but had been working for the king now for so long that knew his place. His orchestra was made up of many of his friends and colleagues. They played at everything that the king did: all of the weddings, birthdays and meetings. Prior to Bantrard, the king's orchestra, a band of ten people led by a man named Eric Bernardus, had been killed in a terrible accident in their cart on their way to Margetania in 1409. They all drowned in a lake when a snake spooked the horse that was riding at break-neck-speed during the night. The only survivor had been Eric, who came to the castle a week later and told his story, only to die of Pneumonia later that month. It was a very sad occasion as all the bodies were recovered from the deep that day.
They received a special place in the chapel catacombs and the leader's grave bore the epitaph: "Thank you for your songs, my friend!" which was a phrase coined by Alexander after Eric's concerts. But Bantrard, with his happy-go-lucky-charm, had apparently been a real bon-viveur and a joker in his time and quickly became popular with everyone. He had been thrown out several times from several castles and Laurence, the Duke of Margarurit, had personally warned Alexander about employing him. He had apparently eloped with his two daughters. Alex didn't particularly like Laurence, because he tried to make a pass at Belinda at her Sweet Sixteen birthday party five years back, as he knew that he still warned him about Bantrard after trying to seduce Belinda. Bantrard was a songwriter with a marvellous talent for lute playing, or so it was said. His orchestra of twelve had been travelling the country entertaining everyone from hookers to senators prior to working for the King.
But due to his many love affairs, many sopranos had left him out of jealousy and anger. Alexander needed an orchestra and Bantrard was the perfect man. He had remained loyal for the last two years. So Alex didn't have to worry. Not yet. Alex knew Bantrard from the Summer Skills Festival and liked him then. After so tragically losing his last orchestra, he knew that Bantrard and his band was the perfect substitute for them, no matter how bad his reputation had been.
Did Bantrard sleep around? Yes, and Alex knew it. It was becoming a habit at Iuventus. But he was sure he left his daughters alone. That was a matter of principle with any highly important person. "Touch my daughters and out you go!" He could understand Laurence there. But a talent like Bantrard's would should and could not be lost. He probably slept with the maids. But that was his business.
He was a grand musician and a very cordial and perfect entertainer for any party. The opera was promising. At least he hoped it would be good. Usually the ensemble was not so big, only about twenty people. The royal orchestra (three lutes, one fidicula, two aulos, one sinka, three rebec, one psalterium, three female singers and one drummer) played newly written and older pieces for the evenings and only requests during the day. But for this opera there would be an orchestra of around fifty people. It was intresting work to get them all gathered in secret for rehearsal. He didn't want Belinda to hear what went on so he always rehearsed in remote parts of the palace in case she came by or when she wasn't