Chapter 2 - The King's Bastard

“But you would have to come up with a plan for what to do with the bastard son,” Tarquin said to Queen Regina. “I don't think that boy is going to just stand by and watch you use the throne however you like.”

“You are right,” the Queen said as she thought about it. “The young boy will be 21 years old in less than two years, and when he reaches that age, according to customs, he will be old enough to ascend to the throne if he wishes to. And I don't see any reason why he would decline the offer.”

“Yes, your Majesty,” Tarquin replied, “he would have the right to demand the throne from you if he wishes to, and you would be bound by law to oblige. He would have no reason to refuse to rule as king, as it seems that is what he aspires to be. It might have been a different case if you had a male child of your own, but so far, you haven't had any.”

The Queen smiled after he said this, looking down at her somewhat flat tummy before proceeding to ask him a question.

“Tarquin,” she called him, and he answered before she went on to ask, “Do you remember that night over a month ago when my husband went out for a long walk and then returned to the palace drunk?”

Tarquin stared at the roof, thinking deeply until he was able to remember. “Yes, my Queen,” he replied. “I do recall that night.”

“That was the night when I managed to sneak into his quarters and get him to sleep with me,” she said to him. “Getting past the guards was not easy, though. It also didn't help that I have been unable to give him children. Seeing me in bed was like a plague to him.”

Tarquin widened his eyes as he noticed where she was going with this: “Your Majesty, you don't mean...?”

“I mean what you think, Tarquin,” Queen Regina said as she stood up, placing a hand on her tummy with pride in her eyes. “I am with child.”

“This might change a lot of things,” Tarquin said as a smile came to his face. “Congratulations, my Queen! I will gladly serve as your witness when the time comes! I swear on my life!”

Queen Regina nodded and replied, “While I am not certain if the child I carry will be male or female, what I am sure of is that the nobles and elders of the kingdom will certainly not wait for twenty-one years before getting a king—especially with the bastard around.”

Then she made a suggestion. “I suggest we kill the bastard discreetly and frame his death; that way, I would be queen indefinitely until my child reaches the ripe age of being crowned king.”

“I don't mean to kill the joy of the moment, your Majesty,” Tarquin said. “But what if the child you carry turns out to be female? Would you be satisfied with ruling perpetually as Queen?”

“While that would be a bad situation, I wouldn't treat it as such,” the Queen replied. “I would love and cherish my daughter with everything within me and raise her to become the crowned queen in my stead. Wouldn't that be possible?”

“Yes, it would,” Tarquin replied. “As far as I know, there should be nothing stopping your daughter from taking the throne after you, so long as there are no royal male successors next in line.”

“If that is God's will, then I will settle for that,” she said as she rubbed her hand over her belly. “Nothing would please me more than keeping that bastard away from the throne. I can barely stand looking at him, let alone having him rule in my presence.”

She then stared outside, far into the sky, reminiscing about her marriage with the late king.

“It's quite shameful that in over ten years of being married to that man, I only had sex with him a handful of times,” she said. “And the last time was only because he was drunk. Nonetheless, at least I'm grateful to him for giving me a legitimate heir to the throne in place of that bastard.”

She took a deep breath, wondering why she had just said that. She feared that her time spent with her advisor was becoming too informal. What was his business concerning her sex life?

Then she stared back at Tarquin. “Speaking of the bastard, what is he up to these days?”

“The usual -- spending several hours in the library, poring through multiple books each day, enduring countless sparring sessions with as many elite soldiers as he can afford to relieve from duty, learning the fundamental art of magic from the best persons outside the kingdom, plus multiple visits from the continent's best philosophers to teach him wisdom -- nothing different from his usual routine from the last six years if I'm being honest.”

“How old is he now?” asked Queen Regina.

“Your Majesty, he is 19 years old,” Tarquin answered.

“I see,” Queen Regina responded calmly, even though deep down she was furious.

All the things Tarquin had described in the bastard prince's daily routine were the qualities the ruling council would want in a king before coming of age.

As far as she was concerned, the only thing holding him back from gaining the trust and favor of some members of the ruling council was his unearned reputation as "the King's bastard", which didn't sit well with the more conservative members of the senate. Also, his reputation for always having integrity preceeded him, which didn't sit well with the corrupt politicians of the Kingdom's Senate.

“So, that gives us less than two years to get rid of him, doesn't it?” Queen Regina asked calmly but with clear venom in her voice.

“You mentioned killing him, didn't you?” Tarquin said to her.

“Yes, I did,” said Queen Regina unapologetically. “But I cannot let someone without my blood rule this kingdom while I'm alive. You know what happens to people without legitimate rights to the throne, don't you? The bastard will kill us all to prevent a civil war from occurring.”

Tarquin wanted to reply but waited for the Queen to express herself fully.

“You told me so yourself, didn't you?” she asked.

“It's either we kill or we get killed; that is the reality. Even though the bastard turns out to be soft and pure of heart, his subordinates would advise him otherwise, and if he refuses, it would be to his detriment, as the people would see him as frail. So he would have to do that to protect the integrity of his kingship,” she replied.

“I understand that, Your Majesty,” Tarquin replied. “But hear me out; this is a period relatively close to the day when he is to be crowned as the new King of Griffindale. While killing him might be considered legal by bending the fabric of the law, it would also be devastating for the people who look up to him.”

“What do you mean by that?” asked the Queen. “He is a bastard; how could he possibly gain favor from anyone?”

Then Tarquin went on to explain, “Like it or not, there are several people who look up to him, more than we both know. It would be naive to think that nobody believes in someone just because they don't talk about them openly. It was a similar case to this that caused the Civil War over a century ago, and it could happen again if care isn't taken.”

“Then what do you suggest?” asked the Queen.

“I suggest you send the bastard prince on an impossible mission, a quest that would either kill him by natural aging or great danger, one that would either take a lifetime to execute or outright cost him his life within moments. Something someone would never come back alive from. You would have the power to do so as the Crowned Queen, and no legal reasons are stopping you from doing so,” Tarquin said to her.

“I can get away with giving him an outrageous mission,” asked the Queen. “But won't people object to it? Won't there be murmuring among the members of the council about it?”

“I don't think that would be much of a problem,” Tarquin replied, “But if it still bothers you, you could preface the instruction by telling him that he would need to do something to prove that he is more than a bastard. He would have to prove to everyone that he was fit for the throne, despite his illegitimate birth.”

Then he explained further; “Make it sound like it is something necessary for his supposed role as a future king. It is all he wants to do, so you can easily use that against him. He will go; he can't help himself. I could write out a script for the instructions if you wish.”

“An excellent idea,” Queen Regina commended with a smile on her face, impressed by the suggestion.

She pondered for a moment what task she could give the bastard and suddenly came up with a great idea—one that she thought would not only sound good to the others but also be motivating to the illegitimate son as well.

That illegitimate son, known as 'the King's Bastard,' was none other than Cyrus Theodore.

The young Prince aspired to become more than just an 'illegitimate son' and sought to better himself despite the odds stacked against him.