Unedited Deleted Scene

Deleted Scene: Storming the Palace

Note from Author

n the Royal Matchmaking Competition: Prince Zadkiel Zadkiel’s mother, Empress Qloey, holds a night out with her son’s contestants for his hand in marriage, in order to develop a relationship with with these young leaders and potential daughter-in-laws. During this dinner party, Empress Qloey tells the story of when her brother and father tried to take the throne from her. This is the second part of the exciting “epilogue” scene in RMC1 Princess Qloey, that was removed from the book before it went out for review.

Why I deleted this scene?

While I had kept the dinner party scene, the Storming the Palace story takes away from Prince Zadkiel’s and the book was already long enough as it was. So it was thrown out entirely.

Historical Significance

This story was inspired by Queen Mary’s ascent to the throne. There are many interpretations of this event, but I’ll try to be as objective as possible. Lady Jane was in line for the throne of England, but not the first. Long story short, there was a power grab. Both of Jane’s parents and her fiancé’s parents tried to claim Jane’s right to the throne and held a pseudo-coronation, which wasn’t recognized by others. Queen Mary marched into England with an army, the people opened the gates and allowed her right in without resistance.

I’m not picking sides. Queen Mary was quite brutal in her reign and Lady Jane was a puppet to her family. Nevertheless, I still found this event to be a remarkable stream of events.

The Deleted Scene: Sitting down for dinner

“Can you tell us what happened on the day you stormed the palace and took back your throne from your illegitimate brother?” Anezka grew animated in speech. “You’ve survived quite a hailstorm of a lifetime!”

“Whatever happened to your brother after he was indicted for treason?” Aaliya asked, even before Anezka finished her sentence. “We know you let your father go, but we never heard about your brother.”

“Yes, my brother was a different case.” My mind searched the banks of my memories. “I’ll answer both questions . . .”

 

The sun rose over the flat landscape as we came into view of the capital’s walls. The Velazian wall towered fifteen feet above us. I never thought I’d find myself on this side of the wall, prepared to break it down if needed. To date, no other civilization has been able to break our defenses.

I recalled my memories of that fateful day, when war loomed on the horizon. It was the day that my brother, only fifteen years old, had tried to claim the throne for himself, supported by my father and pseudo council members. I had waited south of the capital near the Centaurian Forest for word about the three witnesses to my mother’s infidelity. This evidence would ensure that my brother, true son of the Baylorian king, could never inherit the throne. I continued the story to the girls:

But I had three armies under my command, and many of the Velazian soldiers remained faithful to me.

We stopped a great distance from Velazia’s wall, far enough away so no crossbow or bullet could touch us, but close enough that we could see that soldiers lined the walls in formation, ready for an attack. I didn’t want to fight my own men. Instead, they should be fighting for me. Nothing was right about this from the beginning.

The knight Sir McKinley rode with me toward the wall. I called out for the surrender of those Velazian soldiers lined up with crossbows above us. Suddenly, the large doors to the city opened and three riders came out to meet us. One of them was Sir Takaya.

Sir Takaya was the commanding leader of the Velazian forces at the time, the highest rank among the military of the empire, a position which Knight McKinley currently has. I wasn’t sure if my brother had ousted Takaya or not. But if he had, then there’d be nobody else to lead the army with as much respect as him. Seeing him ride out toward us gave me a spark of hope.

“Your Royal Majesty, Empress Qloey of the Velazian Empire,” he said, showing me respect. “We’ve opened the gates for you and await your orders.”

His words filled me with overwhelming emotion.

“Was it a trick?” Makayla grew excited, her hands pressed against the table.

I asked Sir Takaya whether it was safe to enter or if it was a trap. “And what is the state of my brother and father?”

“These men on the wall are under my command and are in allegiance to the rightful heir of Velazia. You,” Takaya said. “However, you must beware. Your father knows you’ve arrived, and many are willing to fight for him. He’s currently in the palace, preparing for the coronation.”

“Bring me to them,” I ordered.

Sir Takaya led the way through the gates, but my stomach was filled with so many nerves I felt sick. A heaviness of anxiety spread across my entire body, knowing there was threat of an ambush or some other trick up their sleeves to capture me. Anything could happen. Yet soldiers from each of the armies galloped by my side through the streets, keeping a watchful eye. And then I heard a noise. A mob of citizens appeared ahead.

“Your Royal Majesty!”

To my surprise, citizens ran into the streets in the early morning and cheered me as I rode through the city.

“The empress has returned!” many said, and ushered others to the main street.

I didn’t always have the people’s favor. But when it came to choosing sides between me and my brother, they chose me. After all, they had lived their entire lives under the certainty that I would become empress. As the firstborn child, as the princess who upheld the RMC treaty, for me to inherit the throne was the natural way of things. They knew it was wrong for my brother to claim it as his own. And these were uncertain times. During my RMC, I had accepted a peasant and a dwarf as real and equal contestants, telling the people that I was also aligned with their interests. So they gathered on either side of the street and cheered.

Once we reached the palace, the guards lined up in formation in front of the gates, prepared for a fight. But when they saw the Velazian knights, their constable, and the commanders from the other cities riding with me, they became confused and looked between each other, seemingly not knowing what to do.

“Put your weapons down and show respect to your empress,” Takaya said. “All who lay their arms down will be pardoned for their treason. Otherwise, we have four armies inside the Velazian walls and will attack with full force.”

These same palace guards worked for me one week prior to this invasion. They knew me, trained under my command, and respected me. And so, they put their weapons down and got on their knees to bow.

One more step remaining, I thought as I ascended the steps of my palace.

When I entered, Prince Farooq was sitting on the throne—my throne, with my crown—waiting for me. My father and the other council members—both old and new—stood around him with the fake contracts they had signed to put my brother in power.

“Arrest her.” Farooq abruptly stood. But he was only fifteen and inexperienced. The palace guards advanced on me, but then a line of knights ran in front of me in defense. Everything came to a standstill. Velazian palace soldiers were about to shed the blood of their fellow soldiers, the same soldiers they trained with every day, and many weren’t willing to do so.

I put a hand up to stop them before someone got hurt. That was all I needed to do for them to obey me. Everyone listened to my silent gesture and held their position. “No need to shed Velazian blood. Let us handle this the legal way,” I said.

I stepped toward the throne, unafraid. “Behold, three witnesses.” My hand extended and two maids, along with one palace steward from Baylor, came into view.

“Even if Empress Ezmorelda illegally changed the law concerning the succession to the Velazian Throne,” I said, “even if she changed the law stating that the next emperor doesn’t have to go through the RMC—which goes against the RMC treaty that all cities signed—”

I stopped the story for a second to explain, “You see, if my brother was to take the throne, he’s required by law to hold an RMC, which I did,” I explained. “He was already engaged to Princess Ednnys of Baylor, which solidified a business agreement with them to open diamond mines near Tildon and enslave dwarves, so they could work the mines. But on to the story . . .”

“Prince Farooq still isn’t eligible to rule.”

“You have ‘three witnesses’ to what?” Farooq asked. He wasn’t fully grown yet and looked like a child on the throne. But he had no idea what was coming.

A small smile formed on my mouth, but I’d save the celebration until all this was officially over. “According to Velazian law, three witnesses are required to prove a crime.” I explained in case they had conveniently forgotten the laws. “Sixteen years ago, my mother committed fornication while visiting Baylor. The empress was gone several months and returned to Velazia three months pregnant with the Baylorian king’s son, Farooq. I have proof that Farooq is an illegitimate misbegotten son.”

The council members exchanged glances.

“This is outrageous.” Farooq pointed my scepter at me.

“He’s not even your son, father.” I had never called my father “father” before—at least not out loud—but I thought this was a good enough place to start. “Prince Farooq and Grand Emperor Ricardo, you both are hereby charged with High Treason and Conspiracy. Arrest them.”

The soldiers obeyed. It could no longer be denied who would rightfully sit on the throne.

For the first time ever, I looked at the throne, knowing nobody else would sit on it but me and my heirs.

My officers approached the throne with me. One took the crown off Farooq’s head, while the other took the scepter. I slowly turned to face my soldiers as they placed the crown on my head and the scepter in my hand.

“Yes, but what about your brother, Farooq? And Ednnys? Where are they?” Zendaya eagerly asked.

“While my father admitted everything, my brother was so brainwashed into thinking that the throne belonged to him that he remained a danger to me. I had to find some moral way to deal with him while still protecting myself. It was not easy. Farooq was to remain in the dungeon until he could admit his transgressions. To this day, he still wants the throne. Being a threat, we had to deal with him differently.” I took a sip of water. “We eventually moved him to the Tower, a stronghold for royal prisoners, which was far more comfortable than the dusty cells beneath the palace.”

“And he’s still d’ere?” Esperanza asked.