So This is Love (Disney Twisted Tales) - Elizabeth Lim Page 0,82
Now the wording snagged Ferdinand’s attention.
It was he, the Grand Duke, who should rule Aurelais upon George’s passing, not the prince and his scullery maid.
It would have been fine if Charles had the decency to marry one of the foreign princesses Ferdinand had selected, but a maid? And one with a fairy godmother?
As always, Ferdinand would have to take matters into his own hands. The king wouldn’t understand how dangerous the girl was. He’d have to exaggerate her story, fabricate a background for her. A sorceress . . . yes, he would tell King George that the maid practiced dark magic. That, if anything, would get His Majesty’s attention.
When the king wasn’t looking, Ferdinand patted one of the side pockets in his trousers, making sure that what he’d tucked inside was still there. Something would be amiss, and soon.
“A son of mine can’t renege on his promises,” went on King George. “Besides, the ballroom’s already decorated for a party—we’ll have the wedding tomorrow! No, today!”
The king’s inattention grated on Ferdinand.
Patience, he reminded himself. Eliminate the root of the threat.
“But I haven’t finished,” he said, waiting to reveal his trump card.
“What do you mean?”
“If only you’d listened to reason, sire,” he lamented. “I knew the prince had fallen in love unnaturally quickly.” Ferdinand leaned closer to the king’s bedside. “The mystery maiden enchanted him, and that is why the poor young man hasn’t been able to think straight since he met her. She cast a spell on him!”
“Oh, for heaven’s sake, Ferdinand. This has gone on long enough.” King George suppressed a cough. “I know you dislike the idea of Charles marrying a commoner, but these are modern times. This is hardly enough reason to wake me from my rest.”
“It’s true, Your Majesty. I heard it from the girl’s lips myself.” Ferdinand seized a nearby chair and shifted it close to the king’s bed. He lowered his voice. “She admitted to having magic. That was why she left the ball so suddenly.”
The king wasn’t listening anymore. “Come, help me get dressed. Is she in the palace? Have someone fetch her.”
“Listen to me, Your Majesty, you haven’t even met the girl. She could be a—”
“A sorceress?” The king let out a shallow laugh. “If she’s cast a spell over my son, then so be it. She can have him!”
“Sire!”
“Don’t keep ‘sire’-ing me.” King George let out another cough and cleared his throat, looking aggravated.
“She could be practicing dark magic.”
“If she were, you wouldn’t bother telling me. She would be in the dungeon by now.”
This was true, and Ferdinand cursed his luck that the king was in a mood of reason. Regrettably, it meant Ferdinand needed to resort to his backup scheme. “Are you quite well, Your Majesty?” he asked, putting on his most concerned voice. “Perhaps you should have some tonic for your cough.”
“Bah, tonics are useless. Pass me my sleeping draught.”
“Where is it?”
“Are you blind, Ferdinand? It’s behind you—on my desk. Dribble a bit into my tea. Just a pinch now, I don’t want to fall asleep immediately.”
Surreptitiously, the Grand Duke turned his back to the king and reached into his pocket for a vial of his own: a little something he’d commissioned from a trusted pharmacist.
It was stronger than his past requests. Far stronger. But the pharmacist hadn’t even asked what it was for. Everyone trusted Ferdinand. With good reason, too. Who had helped run Aurelais after the queen had passed, leaving King George overcome with grief? Who had attended every council meeting and kept the court together whenever the nobles quarreled?
Forcing his shaking hand to steady, he slipped a delicate dash of his vial’s contents into the king’s draught. Then a quick splash of the sleeping draught to mask the bitterness. An invisible thread of guilt tightened around his neck, and he tugged at his collar uncomfortably.
Sometimes a bit of unpleasantness was necessary—for the good of the kingdom.
If this business about His Majesty abdicating soon was true, Ferdinand would have to call upon a secret assembly of his most loyal supporters to propose the amendment to the law that he’d been working on. One that would place him in power, not Prince Charles. He’d have a few days at most—he would have to work quickly.
“Here you are, sire.”
The king poured the mixture down his throat with a grumble. “Despicable stuff, I tell you. Couldn’t they make this taste better?”
“Taste is insignificant if it’ll improve your health, sire.”
“Bah. What do these doctors know? They tell me what I want to