Queen Nheera sat in one of the rooms in her private quarters, The velvet curtains drawn tight and the doors were closed to keep everyone else out. The air slled of incense and old wood. She leaned back in her carved chair, fingers tapping slowly on the armrest as she watched her two sons.
Hairan paced near the window like a caged animal, his broad shoulders tense, fists clenched at his sides in agitation.
"We bury Father and then what? Forty days of this nonsense? I should take the throne the sa week. The people need a strong king, not so sniveling bastard sniffing around the crown."
Azul sat cross-legged on the settee, a thin smile playing on his lips as he watched Hairan grow increasingly more agitated.
"Calm yourself, Hairan. Shouting won’t change the law. We are at a critical ti where the whole kingdom will be watching. The courtiers, the head priests, even the high ranking generals. They all expect us to follow tradition." Azul said.
In Lamora, when a king dies, the entire kingdom goes into a mourning period that usually lasts up to forty days. A new king cannot be crowned at this ti. In the interim, the governance and welfare of the kingdom shall fall to the queen, if she still lives, alongside the late king’s chief advisor. This is a custom upheld for millennia and is not one that can be easily overturned.
Nheera’s eyes narrowed. She had no intention of letting custom slow them down. The longer they waited, the more ti Ragnar had to gather support. That filthy bastard son of her late husband had already started garnering support with a few of Zeriel’s most trusted warriors and among so of the nobles.
She would rather see the entire palace burn than watch Ragnar steal what belonged to her son.
"We cannot wait," she said, her voice low and steady. "Every day after the burial gives Ragnar room to strategize. He has friends in the army. So of the old guard still rember how the king favored him in secret. If we follow the forty days like obedient sheep, he will use that ti to turn more people against us."
Hairan stopped pacing and slamd his fist on the table. "Then we break that stupid tradition. Let them complain. Once I wear the crown, who will dare challenge ?"
Azul chuckled softly, shaking his head. "Brother, I assud by now you would have learned to use your brain. Forceful action only works when the mont is right. If we do what you are insisting, the courtiers would all turn against you, the head priests as well. They love their old ways."
Hairan was about to speak when Nheera raised a hand to silence them both.
"Enough. Hairan, sit. We can’t break the law openly. The people have followed this tradition for longer than anyone alive can rember. But we don’t have to break them. We only need to bend them until they serve us." She waited until Hairan dropped into the chair across from her, still scowling. "What if the kingdom faces a greater threat right after the burial? Sothing so urgent that the old customs must bend for more practical reasons"
Azul’s eyes glinted with interest. He uncrossed his legs and leaned in. "Go on, Mother."
"Ragnar is not to be underestimated. We all know this. He pretends to be a man of the law but he is a snake. We have to act accordingly. The rebels mostly operate in the east but we can push them closer to the capital and fra it as them expanding their operation now that the king is dead. After two or three properties are destroyed, it is bound to cause panic and unrest among the people, especially the nobles now that the danger is closer to them than ever."
Hairan grunted. "What if they suspect sothing?"
"Then we make the threat feel real enough. Azul, you have friends among the high and lesser nobles. When the chaos begins, you are to convince them that crowning a new king as soon as possible is in their best interest."
Azul nodded slowly. "And while the court panics, we call an ergency council and make it clear to them that as regent, you must appoint a protector of the kingdom to defend against this threat. Soone strong. Decisive."
"," Hairan said, straightening.
"You," Nheera confird. "The council will na you Protector within days of the burial. With that title, you control the army, the guards, the treasury for ’defense.’ You can arrest anyone who speaks against you. By the ti the forty days end, you’ll already be sitting in the king’s throne in everything but na. The formal crowning will be a simple formality. Who would dare oppose the man who just saved the capital from a calamity?"
Hairan’s face split into a hard grin. "And if Ragnar opposes my right to rule?"
"Then accuse him of treason again. It’s bound to work the second ti around, " Azul said. "Either way, we move first. We can have his closest allies questioned and imprisoned before they know what’s happening. Once the fear spreads, the courtiers who might have backed him will scramble to prove their loyalty to you instead."
Nheera watched her sons, satisfied. Hairan still looked ready to break sothing, but the violence in his eyes had turned calculating for once.
"We start tonight," she said. "Azul, handle the matter with the nobles. Make your tales believable. Hairan, keep your temper in check. Be seen grieving publicly. Visit the temples, speak kindly to the priests. Let the people see you as the late king’s devout son, not the hotheaded one. In the anti, I will have a word with Laheir."
Hairan cracked his knuckles. "What if soone still pushes back? So stubborn lord who clings to the old ways?"
"Then we remind them what happens to those who stand in the way when the kingdom is in danger," Nheera said flatly. "Accidents happen, especially in uncertain tis. But only as a last resort. We want the court scared of the Rebels, not of us."
It was reasonable on the surface. The law stays intact—the mourning period continues, the queen still ’rules’ through her chosen protector. By the ti they realize the threat was exaggerated, Hairan would be too deep in power to be removed.
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