Chapter 3
The palace buzzed with the news of the revolution ending. Romania would finally be at peace, and guarded by Ottoman protection, no one would dare invade. Families would be able to heal and no more sons would be lost. The arrangements were made to host the leader of the rebellion. He had always remained nameless, supposedly a Lord of a remote kingdom within the borders of Romania, but his actions on the battlefield were legendary. It was announced both the King and Queen would welcome him, and I wept.
I waited in the great room from earliest light, not wanting to miss a second of my cousin's presence. It had been so long since Debra sat upon her throne, I wondered if anyone remembered what she looked like. I was nervous she would be unrecognizable even if they did. The hours passed, preparations were put into action, and I continued to wait anxiously. An hour after sunset the Captain of the Guards announced the stranger had arrived. The King was escorted to his throne, and I held my breath. Debra followed behind him. She walked slowly, but looked just as regal as the first day she claimed her seat within the palace. My cousin was thinner, but her golden locks still shined brilliantly, and her hazel eyes still glowed. I doubt anyone even noticed the dark circles under her eyes or how uncomfortable she looked upon the seat. Even with the flaws, Debra was still the most beautiful woman within the kingdom, and every bit a Queen.
The man, the Lord of the revolution, was escorted in by two soldiers. He cast an aura of night itself. A cloud seemed to hover over the room with his entrance. The King stood, but Debra remained seated. The Lord bowed, and the soldiers left his side. The King made a speech about friendship and peace, and the Lord replied with similar kind words. In front of the entire room of noblemen and warriors, the King asked the stranger to name anything and he would give it to him to seal the pact of peace. The Lord looked at Debra, and requested a night with the Queen of Romania. Silence filled the room, and only the King laughed. His response was "Anything for Romania."
The Queen rose to her feet, for she was no harlot. Through all of her suffering, she had never felt so wronged than she did at that very moment. The King could take her body and her youth, but he could not take her dignity. The Queen protested, but the King's word was law. He ordered his guards to escort my cousin to the Lord's chamber, but the Queen ordered them to stop. She walked out on her own with her head held high. All in attendance witnessed how magnificent my cousin was, even in her darkest moment. That was the last time I saw her living face.
My cousin Debra, the Queen of Romania, was found dead the next morning. The Lord who took her honor was never seen again, but the revolution did end. I helped to prepare the body for burial, and used my own scarf to cover the fatal wounds on her neck. She was laid to rest in the cemetery next to the cathedral. I cried over her grave until I was forced to leave by the oncoming night. The next morning I left for home, and two months later I was married to my betrothed.
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