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theroyalhouseofwindenburg · 3 months

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The Domino Effect

Following Dorthea's passing, The Dowager Queen Margaery's health declined. And by the winter of 1354, she was seemingly nearing her final days. Her bedchamber was filled with priests, nuns, and her closest family, as they all loyally stood by her side. Margaery sat up in her bed and called for her grandchildren. Princess Augusta first came to her, kneeling at her side.

"Augusta, you are a vision of grace and strength. I am so proud of the woman you've become," Margaery spoke softly, her eyes filled with love as she gazed at her granddaughter. "Your beauty is a reflection of your grandmother, Queen Anne. I see her spirit shining through you," Margaery continued, a hint of sorrow in her voice. "I am sorry for the pain caused by my son's actions against you, your mother, and our family. It weighs heavy on my heart."

"But do not let my passing hinder your path, Augusta," she urged, her voice gaining strength as she caressed her cheek. "Go to Tartosa, you are to be Empress one day, and let love and diplomacy mend what has been broken. Your future is bright, my dear, and nothing should stand in its way." With tears in her eyes, Augusta moved to the side. King Edward walked to his grandmother's bedside, taking her cold and frail hand into his. Margaery looked into Edward's eyes with a sense of peace, her hand trembling as she reached for her grandson's. "Edward, in your hands rests the crown's unwavering legacy. Let the realm feel your benevolence, as my Wilhelm once did, for kindness and devotion are the strongest swords," Margaery whispered weakly.

Edward clasped her hand gently, his eyes reflecting the weight of her words. "I will do my utmost, to honor both you and my grandfather's legacy. I pray that I can bring as much light to the realm as you both once did."

With a faint smile, Margaery continued, "Your grandfather would be proud, just as I am, for your reign shall mend the scars of your fathers mistakes. Seek a queen whose heart mirrors your resolve, for in her lies the future of our line."

Edward nodded solemnly, his determination shining through. "I will find a queen who shares our vision, one who will stand by my side as we steer our realm under the Watcher's guidance."

Margaery's voice grew softer, yet carried a firmness that belied her frailty. 'The crown must never falter, Edward, for it is the beacon that guides this realm,' she reminded him. 'I need to rest now for a while.' Her words were gentle, yet weighted with the knowledge of impending farewells. As Edward leaned in, she whispered to him, 'Remember always, I love you dearly."

In these moments, Margaery also imparted a crucial decision. The Kingdom of Effenmont, a jewel off the coast of Windenburg that had come into her possession after her father's passing years prior, would pass to King Edward upon her eventual departure, becoming a state of Windenburg. This gift, intertwined with her love and guidance, would forever shape the realm they both held dear.

As Edward gazed out the window at the falling snow, he felt the weight of centuries resting upon his shoulders, each snowflake a whispered reminder of the legacy he must uphold, the mistakes he must correct, and the future he must forge for his realm and his people.

In the early hours of the morning the following day, Margaery lay on her bed, her eyes fluttering open slightly as she weakly called out for Edward. He hurried to her side, his heart heavy with impending loss, yet he masked his emotions with a calm demeanor.

With a stern but loving expression, Margaery reached out for Edward's hand and whispered, "Do not forget what I've told you, The crown must never fall."

Edward nodded solemnly, his eyes reflecting determination and sorrow. "I won't forget, I promise."

As Margaery attempted to sit up, a sharp pain pierced through her chest, causing her to gasp. She cried out for a priest, her voice strained yet resolute. The priest rushed to her bedside, offering prayers and comfort as Margaery lay back, her breaths becoming shallower.

In her final moments, She whispered her late husband's name, a final farewell to the love of her life. "Wilhelm?" she breathed, her voice barely audible amidst the hushed room. Her eyes slowly closed, and the priest, after a brief examination, turned to the King with a somber apology, saying, 'I'm sorry, Your Grace. she has passed.' The room fell into a solemn silence, the weight of Margaery's legacy lingering in the air."

Edward stood by the foot of the bed, his gaze fixed on Margaery's frail form. The soft glow of candlelight danced across the room, casting a somber ambiance that mirrored the heavy emotions in Edward's heart. Though surrounded by loved ones and attendants, he felt an unyielding solitude settle upon him, as if the world had receded into a distant murmur, leaving only him and his grandmother in that final moment.

In the days that followed Margaery's passing, a wave of sorrow swept through the kingdom as news of her departure spread like wildfire. Citizens from all walks of life, from the bustling markets to the quiet countryside, made their way to Westsimster Abbey, their solemn faces a testament to the deep respect and admiration they held for their departed queen.

Inside the grand halls of the abbey, a scene of profound mourning unfolded. The royal family stood together, their heads bowed in reverence, as they surrounded Margaery's peaceful figure. She lay adorned in her finest regal attire, a testament to her grace and dignity even in death. Her robes, woven from the finest purple satin, cascaded around her in gentle folds, accentuated by the soft gleam of ermine furs that spoke of her regal lineage.

A crown, symbolizing her reign and legacy, graced her brow, its jewels catching the flickering candlelight and casting a radiant glow upon her serene features. Despite the weight of grief that hung heavy in the air, Margaery appeared as if she were merely slumbering, her expression one of tranquil repose. As Edward approached Margaery's resting place, his heart heavy with sorrow, he found solace in the memories of her unwavering strength and kindness. With a voice touched by emotion, he spoke to the gathered mourners:

"We stand here today not just to mourn the loss of a queen, but to honor the legacy of a matriarch whose love and wisdom guided us all. Margaery was not just a ruler; she was the heart and soul of our family, a beacon of grace and compassion in times of turmoil. Her absence leaves a void that can never be filled, but her legacy of unity and empathy will continue to inspire us as we navigate the path ahead. Let us remember her not with tears of sadness, but with gratitude for the light she brought into our lives."

Following her funeral, Margaery was placed in her coffin and carried beneath the grand halls of Westsimster Abbey. There, in the dim light of the crypt, she was laid to rest beside her late husband, King Wilhelm IV. The royal family gathered around her final resting place, their faces etched with grief as they mourned her one last time.

The chamber echoed with the soft sounds of weeping and whispered prayers, a testament to the deep loss felt by all. As the moment of farewell drew to a close, they began to exit the chamber, their hearts heavy with sorrow. King Edward lingered at the entrance, his eyes cast downward in despair. His mind was full of emotions, an immense amount of grief, responsibility, and reflection.

He thought of his grandmother's final counsel, the words that would forever resonate within him: "The crown must never falter." The weight of her legacy and the promise he had made felt almost overwhelming in that moment.

As he took his final steps out of the chamber, Edward whispered to himself, "I will not let you down, this crown shall never fall.".

Queen Margaery 1279-1354 (75 yrs)

May the Watcher guide her into the light ♡

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theroyalhouseofwindenburg · 7 months

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King Edward

In the months that followed King Wilhelm's demise, Windenburg seemed to be on a brighter path. One morning, King Edward called for an audience at The Tower of Windenburg, and the crowds gathered eagerly, their eyes filled with anticipation. At only 12 years old, King Edward wasn't even tall enough to reach the podium, so he stood on books to make himself appear taller. He was flanked by his mother, Dowager Queen Cordelia, who stood with a sense of quiet pride.

As the young king prepared to speak, there was a hush that fell over the crowd. Edward's voice, though young, carried a weight of authority and determination. "In a time of crisis, we must show compassion and resolve. Thus, I announced the conversion of The Tower of Windenburg and The Palace of Westsimster into infirmaries for those afflicted by the plague. Furthermore, I pledged to hire 1500 new plague doctors to aid in this dire hour. My vow is to protect my people, not to condemn them. Through employing more doctors and fostering care, we witness the slow return of hope as our afflicted brethren begin to mend." Edward stated. He employed more doctors, and slowly, people started to get better. The plague had seemingly run its course, though many people had died, it seemed that no one new was getting infected.

By summer, traces of the virus had vanished, and many of the traveling plague doctors went on their way. The streets of Windenburg were bustling with life once more, and the people rejoiced in the newfound sense of hope and optimism. King Edward's swift and decisive actions had not only saved countless lives but had also restored faith in the monarchy. The young king's compassion and determination had proven that age was no barrier to leadership, and his reign was marked by a sense of unity and progress.

On the fifth day of summer, 1350, crowds gathered around Westsimster Abbey for the coronation of King Edward. The Abbey was heavily guarded, and only nobles and a handful of lucky citizens were allowed to attend the ceremony. Edward, dressed in his finest clothes and wearing his custom-knit coronation robe that was 9 feet in length, walked beside his mother, Cordelia, toward the coronation chair. The robe trailed behind him as he moved, a symbol of the weight of the crown he was about to bear.

As they approached the coronation chair, Cordelia helped her son remove the robe, her hands trembling slightly with the weight of the moment. She looked at Edward, her heart filled with a mixture of pride and fear. Pride for the son who was about to become king, and fear for the challenges that lay ahead. "He is but a mere child," she thought to herself, her mind racing with worry.

"As my son ascends the throne, I can't help but fear the weight of the crown upon his young shoulders," Cordelia whispered to herself, her voice barely audible over the murmurs of the crowd. "Will he be strong enough to withstand the challenges that lie ahead?" Her mind was clouded with uncertainty, and she couldn't shake the feeling of foreboding that lingered in the air. Edward sat in the coronation chair, a place where many of his ancestors had also sat before him, and waited for the crowning to begin. The High Priest of the Jacoban Church, Paul Leudemond, would be conducting the ceremony, despite his biases. Facing the crowd, Paul began his speech.

"Your Majesty, esteemed nobles, and beloved citizens of Windenburg, today marks a significant moment in our history. We gather to witness the coronation of King Edward, a young ruler who, despite his tender age, has shown remarkable wisdom and courage. As the high priest of the Jacoban church, it is my honor to preside over this sacred ceremony and to bestow upon our young king the blessings of our faith. Let us begin."

"I am here to affirm that Edward is not merely ascending to the throne by birthright, but by divine will. The Jacoban faith has long held that kings are chosen by the grace of the Almighty, and in Edward, we see a beacon of hope for our kingdom."

After saying a prayer to St. Jacob and anointing the new king, Paul placed the crown upon Edward's head, and everyone in the building bowed before their new king. Following that, Edward stood up to the side, and Cordelia was guided to the chair. Paul placed the Imperial Orb of Windenburg in Cordelia's hand and stated , "Your Majesty, it is my duty to present you with the imperial orb of Windenburg, a symbol of your regency. However, I must also remind you that this orb is not yours to keep. It is a temporary token of authority, entrusted to you until King Edward comes of age."

"I trust you are aware of the weight of this responsibility. You are not the rightful ruler of Windenburg, and your reign is but a temporary measure. I urge you to remember that, as you hold this orb, you are merely a steward of the throne, not its true sovereign. It is my fervent hope that you will fulfill your promise to relinquish the throne to King Edward on his 18th birthday. Your Majesty, I implore you to set aside any personal ambitions and act in the best interests of our kingdom."

Cordelia held the orb out in her hand and stated, "I vow to uphold the regency of Windenburg with unwavering dedication, ensuring the prosperity and well-being of our kingdom. I pledge to guide and nurture King Edward, preparing him for the responsibilities of the throne. On his 18th birthday, I will gracefully relinquish the regency, allowing him to ascend as the rightful king of Windenburg. Until that day, I will serve as a steadfast protector of our realm, honoring the trust placed in me by our people."

After that, Cordelia stood up, and both of them headed towards the crowd, stopping on the ledge to wave as many monarchs have traditionally. Behind them stood Paul, a look of resentment on his face. He would do anything within his power to remove Cordelia from her position. The crowds roared as Edward and Cordelia exited the Abbey, parties in the streets broke out, the people were overjoyed by their new King, despite his age.

Back at The Parish of St. Jacob, the Jacoban clergy met again in secrecy to discuss their plans of ambush. Paul, with a solemn expression, addressed the gathered clergy. "My brethren, the ascension of King Edward, a mere boy, and the regency of Queen Cordelia, a woman of Bagley blood, are affronts to our faith and to the very fabric of our society. It is an insult to the Jacoban church and to the traditions that have guided our kingdom for centuries."

Paul then turned his gaze to a guest he had called to the meeting, Lord Richard of Windenburg, the current King's first cousin once removed. "Your Grace," Paul addressed him, "The regency of Cordelia is a blight upon our kingdom, a threat to the very fabric of our society. We cannot allow her to continue to wield power unchecked. We must take decisive action to protect the sanctity of our kingdom and to ensure that King Edward is guided by the true principles of our faith."

Richard, with a furrowed brow, listened intently. He knew that the Jacoban clergy were prepared to go to great lengths to achieve their goals, and he was prepared to do whatever it took to protect the kingdom. "Your Holiness," he replied, "I understand the urgency of the situation. Cordelia's regency poses a significant threat to the stability of our kingdom, and we cannot afford to let her continue to wield power unchecked. I am prepared to do whatever it takes to protect the kingdom and to ensure that King Edward is guided by the true principles of our faith."

"As for Cordelia," Richard continued, "I propose a swift and covert operation. We'll stage the ambush when she's least expecting it, perhaps during a royal procession or a visit to a remote estate. The goal is to take her into custody without causing a scene, ensuring she's held in a secure location away from the influence of the crown. As for her fate, I advocate for keeping her alive but in captivity. Killing her would only escalate the situation and lead to further unrest. By keeping her isolated, we can neutralize her influence while avoiding unnecessary bloodshed."

Paul and Richard rose from their seats, their hands meeting in a firm handshake, a silent agreement passing between them. Their eyes held a steely determination, knowing that the ambush they planned would soon be set into motion. With a shared nod, they reaffirmed their commitment to the cause, understanding the weight of their decision and the consequences that lay ahead.

In Tartosa, the aging Dowager Queen Margaery of Windenburg sat in her chambers at Thebe Castle, a sense of nostalgia and longing filling the air. She sifted through the letters and correspondence that had arrived from overseas, her heart heavy with the weight of the past. The news from Lady Dorothea, a trusted confidante, struck her like a bolt of lightning. King Wilhelm V, her son, had passed away. Margaery's hands trembled as she read the words, her mind racing with memories of her son's troubled reign.

As she absorbed the news, a mixture of emotions washed over her. Grief for her son's passing mingled with a profound sense of relief. For years, she had borne the burden of his actions, the weight of his tyranny. Now, with his demise, she felt a weight lifted from her shoulders, a newfound freedom she hadn't experienced in decades.

Margaery's thoughts turned to her daughter, Empress Mary, who was unaware of the news. She called for Mary to join her, the urgency in her voice evident. As Mary entered the room, Margaery's eyes met hers, filled with a mix of sorrow and resolve.

"My dearest Mary," Margaery began, her voice trembling with emotion. "I have received news that will change our lives forever. King Wilhelm, your brother, has passed away. While I am stricken with grief for his loss, I also feel a sense of relief. For so long, I have carried the weight of his actions, the burden of his reign. Now, with his passing, I am free from the shackles of his tyranny."

Mary listened in stunned silence, her mind reeling from the news. She had not seen her brother in years, nor had she witnessed the turmoil of his rule. Her memories of him were from their childhood, a time when they were close and carefree.

Margaery continued, her voice filled with determination. "This moment marks a new beginning for me. For thirty long years, I have been estranged from our family in Windenburg. It is time for me to return home, to mend the rifts that have divided us, and to reconnect with our loved ones. Would you accompany me, my dear Mary? Let us reclaim our rightful place in the embrace of our family."

Mary's heart swelled with a mix of emotions as she looked at her mother. She knew that this journey would not be easy, but she also knew that it was necessary. With a nod, she replied, "Yes, Mother. I will accompany you. Let us begin this journey together, to heal the wounds of the past and forge a new future for our family."

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