“Just what, may I ask, do you think that you can do to me?” The Duchess hissed to her son as the illusion of his child-self screamed in the boiling tub of water. “You’re nothing. You’re vapor and light—even less of a person than you are in reality, if that’s possible.”
“Aren’t you comprised of the same?” Julian said firmly. “Aren’t you just a trick of my mind? Additionally, while this hallucination may, indeed, stop at some point, I will continue whereas you will not. You’re dead, Mother.”
“No, I’m not, Julian.” The Duchess shook her head. “I’ll never really die. Yes, it is true that my body has ceased, I will continue on forever. Julian, I’m in everything you do. Every shiver, every moan, every second that your heart continues to be—I’m there. You’ll never be free of me. And, this, I think, you should count as a blessing? What would you be without me? Truly? A dreamer? You have no real use. Of what are you capable? Cutting stones? Making baubles? Well, that’s all very pretty. But, it’s not very substantial. So, you’ve dedicated your life to bringing a moment of happiness to someone when she opens a box to see a glittering jewel. Where’s the permanence in that? What mark have you made on the world? Count yourself blessed that you’ve got my blood—Fallbridge blood—in your veins. At least, then, you have potential for greatness. That’s more than most. In that, at least, you’re not entirely useless.”
“I am not even marginally useless.” Julian spat. “Tell her,” He said turning to the specter of Prince Albert.
“What shall I say?” The Prince shrugged.
“Anything! Offer something. You’re…” Julian paused. “You’re a creation of my own mind, so do as I tell you.”
“I’m impressed, Your Grace,” Prince Albert smiled. “Very well, I shall speak for you. The Duke,” the prince began, “has, indeed, made a mark on the world. Look at me.”
“I am looking at you, Your Majesty,” Julian’s mother curtsied.
“Look upon the attire your son has imagined for me. Look upon my regalia. Do you see this?” The image of the Prince pointed to the sash which clung to his uniform. “Do you see my garter badges, my stars?”
“I do.” The Duchess nodded.
“Though I am imagined, these are not. These are exactly the image of those same jewels that the Duke created for me. When I am gone, when the Queen is gone and our son ascends the throne, and his son, and his son after him, these jewels will remain even after our bodies have long turned to dust. These jewels will be worn by Kings and Queens of England for centuries to come and each time one of these is pinned to their breast, the hands of the Sovereign will touch those very stones that were so lovingly touched by the Duke. You speak of permanence. Is that not permanence enough for you?”
“A curious argument, but one that I cannot refute. There’s truth, indeed, to what you’ve been urged to say, Your Majesty,” The Duchess nodded. “But, still, those stones are far stronger than my son.”
“Stronger than you or I.” The Prince grinned.
“It doesn’t change the fact that he’s of little worth.”
“How dare you?” Julian interrupted.
“Don’t speak to me in such a way!” The Duchess snapped. She turned and looked over her shoulder, shrieking at the nanny who continued to scrub the vision of young Julian who suffered so terribly in the boiling bath. “Dunk his head!”
Nanny Rittenhouse did as she was asked and pushed the child Julian roughly into the scalding water.
“You always were filthy and difficult!” The Duchess howled with laughter. “That will tame your foulness!”
As the ghost of his past self began to sputter and cough—his lungs filling with the hot water—so did the image of the adult Julian.
“You see, Your Majesty?” The Duchess cackled. “He’s weak!”
At that very moment, in their borrowed house on Royal Street, Marjani and Robert watched in horror as Julian’s limp body began to rattle and shake in a fit of coughing and gasping.
“What’s happenin’?” Marjani asked, trying to hold Julian’s body down as he thrashed wildly.
“I don’t know!” Robert gasped.
Did you miss Chapters 1-348? If so, you can read them here.
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