Whispers Unsaid

Eventually, word trickled in that the other kings had recovered from their mysterious illnesses, although the one named James had barely survived. The story that accompanied this was that the wine they had at King Zachary's grand party had been sour and so had gotten them sick. This story seemed plausible enough to me; after all, they had all consumed copious amounts, enough so that they slept like lead through the night. It only made sense that it would make them ill if it had in fact been sour. Jonathan, however, did not believe a word of this explanation, if only because it came from King Zachary's mouth.

"Does it not seem suspicious to you, Trinity?" he asked. He walked a few feet away and then turned back, his footsteps echoing through the empty hallway. It was early, far too early for the two of us to be seen alone, but Jonathan had insisted on speaking with me. I suppose it was safe though, since the sun had yet to breach the horizon and so anyone who might happen upon us was still safe in their bed.

I shrugged my slender shoulders, pulling my shawl more tightly around me. "It seems logical," I replied. "The other kings had quite a bit to drink at dinner."

"But King Zachary had none, correct?" Jonathan asked next.

"Yes, but the previous night--"

"Why do you continue to defend him?" Jonathan hissed. He stopped in front of me, anger splashed across his face. I drew up to my fullest height, lifting my chin to look Jonathan in the eye. I might count him as a friend, but I would not let him talk to me in such a fashion. "He is a murderer and a liar. He deserves no such courtesy."

"And why do you continue to blame him for every wrong-doing that happens in this kingdom?" I shot back. "Your only reasoning for blaming this latest thing on him is pure speculation. I do not know why you seem to have some sort of personal vendetta against the king, but until you tell me what it is, I cannot believe you when you say he is to blame." Jonathan took another step forward; our faces were now only a few inches apart and the closeness made me blush just a bit. He opened his mouth to speak, a retort on the tip of his tongue, when suddenly he gave me a push backwards, forcing me into a small room nearby. Honestly, sometimes this man had quite a bit of nerve. "Would you mind telling me why it was necessary to manhandle me?" I huffed, straightening my shawl.

"The walls have ears," Jonathan replied shortly. He crossed his arms over his chest. "You wanted to know why I have such a hatred towards the king - or a 'vendetta' as you put it - and I am going to tell you. Of course, I cannot tell you everything. There are some things that you are not ready to know just yet."

"Well out with it, then. I will need to go and tend to Nicolas soon."

Jonathan frowned. "I have not always been a gardener," he began after several silent seconds. "For many years I held a different...profession, one granted me the privilege of knowing what went on in all of the nearby kingdoms, this one included. King Zachary has not always ruled this kingdom, you know," he added suddenly.

"Well of course," I said. "He is relatively young. Surely he has not been king for more than ten years."

Jonathan shook his head. "King Zachary came into power here less than two years ago," he explained. "Before this, he was merely a prince, much like Nicolas is now. For many years, this kingdom was ruled by King Zachary's father, a great man by the name of Rowan. He was a powerful ruler, one who treated his subjects with kindness. Unfortunately, he was killed during the Great War. That is how King Zachary came to the throne."

"So far you have told me nothing to warrant your vendetta against the king," I said. I shifted on my feet. Being alone in this small room with Jonathan only filled my mind with impure thoughts, mainly the ones that I was sure the others would have if we were to be caught. It was safe to say that I was uncomfortable. "It is not at all unusual for a son to inherit his father's crown, nor is it unusual for a king to die in battle during a war."

"Ah, but King Rowan did not perish at an enemy's hand," Jonathan stated. "The hand that took King Rowan's life was one that he should have been able to trust without worry."

I stared at Jonathan, studying his face for any further explanation as to what he had just put forth. And then the realization hit me like a brick and my eyes widened. "Jonathan, are you saying that King Zachary murdered his father?" I gasped. Jonathan nodded grimly. "But why? Why would he do something so terrible?"

"A love of power is the most corruptive force on Earth," Jonathan said. "It can drive even the noblest of men to commit terrible acts."

"But how do you know that this is truly what happened?" I asked. I refused to believe this. I refused to believe that I was under the command of a man who had murdered his own father, refused to believe that through the veins of the innocent child I cared for coursed murderous blood. It simply could not be true. "How do you know that King Rowan did not die in the Great War?"

"He was poisoned," Jonathan answered sharply. The glint in his eyes and tensing of his shoulders told me that he was growing frustrated with me, but at the moment I did not care. "Why on Earth would one of his enemies go through the trouble of poisoning him when he could run King Rowan through with a sword and be done with it?"

"I do not believe you," I said icily. "You are doing nothing but trying to stir up trouble, spreading rumors that could very well get you killed and I will not be a part of it." I pushed past Jonathan and made to leave the small room, Jonathan hot on my tail.

I heard him draw in a breath, obviously ready to spit something in retaliation, but the sight of another figure at the end of the hallway stopped him. I came to a halt when I spotted her, and Jonathan crashed into my back, nearly causing me to fall over. The woman at the end of the hall had obviously seen us leave the small room; the disapproving look on her face provided enough evidence for that. I opened my mouth to call out to her, but she was gone before I could speak.

"Oh no," I fretted. I pushed my hand back through my long hair. "Oh goodness no."

"What are you about now?" Jonathan huffed. He threw his hand in the direction the woman had gone. "That woman was nothing but a servant and besides that, there is no way that she heard us."

"That is not what I am worried about," I whispered. "She obviously saw the two of us leave that closet together."

"And?"

I rolled my eyes, fighting back a sigh. "It is suspicious enough to them that the two of us are friends," I explained. "I am a maiden, I should have no contact with a man lest he is to become my husband. But now some servant woman has seen the two of us alone together and I am quite sure that her assumptions about what we were doing are less than innocent. By high noon I am sure that half of the castle will think that the two of us have laid down together."

When my eyes next landed on Jonathan's face, I was surprised to see that he was smirking. "That is an easy enough rumor to dispel," he scoffed, waving his hand. "And I am sure that that woman will tell no one. The servants around her have so much to do that she will forget what she saw within the hour." Jonathan paused, taking a step closer, his smirk growing. "And is the idea all that appalling?"

"Jonathan!" I gasped. I was quite honestly shocked. Never in my life had I met someone so brazen.

Jonathan only chuckled. "Trinity, you act as though the thought has never crossed your mind."

I took a step back, studying the man standing in front of me. It would be a lie to say that I had never thought of it, but not in the way Jonathan meant. Jonathan was a good-looking man, but not enough so that I would compromise myself in such a way. But I had considered what it would be like to kiss him, to have his hand on the back of my neck, pressing me closer. Of course, I had quickly pushed those thoughts aside. "I-I have not," I said haughtily. "Such actions should only happen between a husband and wife, and you are far too loathsome for me to ever consider taking you as a husband, even if I could."

"Calm down, I was only joking," Jonathan laughed. He said this, but the glint in his brown eyes told a different tale. "Now, did you not say that you would need to tend to the young prince? Surely he will be waking soon, and you will want to be there before his cries catch the attention of the other servants."

"Yes, I should be going," I agreed. I gathered my shawl more closely around my shoulders; during my fretting, it had fallen down to my elbows. "I suppose I will talk to you later, then. Will you be in the garden?"

Jonathan cracked a smile. "Is that not where I always am?" he asked. A strange look flashed quickly through his eyes and then he was gone, heading off towards the garden.