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peetaismyhero:

Favorite Fictional Ladies | Aliena (The Pillars of the Earth)

These big strong men are all cowards at heart.

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“I doubt where your allegiance lies. I have never had to doubt it before, but I have stood silent while I have heard things that should have cast doubt long ago. Therefore I have summoned you to hear it for myself. Do you believe I belong on this throne, as King of all of Vasai?” He gave her a long look, and though he was seated it was as if he were taller than her still. The way he looked at her without fully turning his head made it appear as if she only had so much of his attention, and in a second she would lose it.

“Allegiance? Father, you are my blood. That is allegiance enough. You are the King of Vasai, you sit upon the high throne and men cower to behold you. There is no question of where my allegiance lies. It lies with you now, as it always has.” The problem was, as easy as the words came, there was not even an ounce of Jacquelyn that believed it.

“Why then have you vouched for the prisoners of the land, those who speak against me or are loyal to another? I have stopped, nearly completely and for almost a year, the beheading of the traitors of the crown. You spoke for these men, and I had thought it was for my benefit. You told me you worried that the people would revolt against me if they thought me too harsh, too fearful, too… brutal. Yet the people have not yet accepted me. I have kept prisoners alive to send a message, not for you to befriend them.” Now he turned to look at her, and the glare he sent made her shiver and then swallow. There was ice in his eyes, pure rage and irritation held behind a glass that was near ready to shatter, but Mercado was quite good at withholding when he needed to.

He knew about Noah, her friendship with the Lord in the North. Noah who she now knew was brutalized on a daily or weekly basis, or starved, or both, because he would not agree with Mercado or bend to his will. Noah whose time had run out, and who only thought of his family. Jacquelyn took a breath.

“What I have said and what I have done, I have done for you. The people will learn in time that you are a fair and worthy King. They will understand and accept you. I truly believe that.”

“The problem here is,” His voice was raised, and he spoke quicker than he had a moment ago, “I don’t believe you. You understand? I do not and cannot trust you.” He seemed to stop himself from continuing, and the air tensed. His guards looked straightforward, seemingly ignoring the eruption occurring in front of their faces. She was still looking at her father, but her periphery was taking in the room.

Several guards stood against the wall, hands placed readily on swords, spears, helmets up, armour on and shining. Her father sat on a throne, dark stone that radiated cold. Beside him on either side another guard stood, placidly looking forward.

Beside her on guard stood, it seemed like he’d stopped halfway trying to grab her by the arm to remove her. She was waiting for the command from her father anyway. Yet she would not let some man drag her away as if she were a common criminal. Her jaw set.

“Time again I have proven myself. I am your blood, and you doubt me. If you so believe my loyalties do not lie with you, where else would they be? I live in this castle, under your rule and abide by your commands.” She was speaking low, pacing her words. “Did you wish a river of blood to flow from this castle to Doras? For the people to find you a King that knows no mercy nor compassion to save those who simply follow as they are led?”

Jacquelyn shook her head, standing taller. “Than handle me as a traitor against the crown and hang me.”

“Oh, that’s good Jacquelyn,” Mercado spoke a bit gleefully, but his voice was syrup once more. “Hanging. There’s less blood.” He turned away yet again, and Jacquelyn swallowed. It was not out of fear, but sorrow. Sadness. There was much more she needed to have done before her father beheaded her, or rather, hanged her. But he whispered into the ear of the guard to his right, and she heard some snippets with the word “prisoners” and “gallows”. That was when the fear started to rise.

She gazed at him in horror, unable to find words. A strangled, “Papa,” rose from her throat, and a guard came to her side. “Papa.” It was louder this time, her face tightening and then crumpling when he wouldn’t look at her. With a swift movement of his hand, Mercado ordered the guard to take her back to her room.

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