By Andrew Swearingen
The ornate twin doors opened and the black clad figure of Queen Elandra entered the crown prince’s chambers and commanded her two automated sentry droids to remain at the entrance.
Harsh voices carried down the hall from the sitting room. Yet another argument had broken out.
In the middle of it all sat the young man who would soon sit on the throne. The similarities were uncanny. The golden hair. The lean shoulders. The strong jawline of her late husband. Everything of her son’s appearance was there. But this was not him.
“Have I come at a bad time?” The queen spoke through her black mourning veil. “I apologize if my arrival is… inconvenient.”
The discourse halted and the quorum of royal advisors, alchemists, and generals stood and bowed apologetically.
“Most gracious apologies, My Queen,” said Valdaire, the man who many years ago had been the king’s chief of staff. “Our preparations are no excuse for such rudeness towards your majesty. What do you require of us?”
“I wish to speak with him.” The queen inclined her head, staring at the interloper.
The golden-haired young man glanced upward, fear pooling in his eyes, before looking back down at the floor.
One of the other advisors started, “There is much still to be done—”
Valdaire held up a hand, silencing the man.
“Our queen will have an audience with whomever she wishes, whenever she wishes. We will take our leave.”
Quietly, the rest of the advisors shuffled out. Valdaire lingered for a second, leaning in closer to Queen Elandra. “Take as much time as you require, Your Majesty.” He followed the rest of the advisors out.
The large doors closed, leaving Queen Elandra alone with the young man who still could not bring himself to look up. The queen raised her veil, revealing her face for the first time in days.
“I do not believe we have met before.” The queen kept her voice formal and cool.
“No, ma’am. We’ve not.”
“What do they call you?”
“Ma’am?”
“You have a name, yes?”
“Alonis, ma’am.”
“Alonis…” she said, “the ancient god of the moon. ‘He who reflects the image of the sun.’ The name was Valdaire’s idea?”
He nodded. Valdaire was never without his sense of poetry.
The queen turned her head slightly to one side. “And what are you, Alonis? A clone?”
Alonis shook his head. “The technical term is replicant.”
“How long did you serve as my son’s double?”
“Four years, ma’am. I was created when the crown prince was fourteen. I reached my physical maturity in a matter of months. I served as his double from then until…”
“And now,” the queen waved her hand, “in light of the demise of the late king’s only heir, Valdaire seems to have found a way to repurpose you.”
Queen Elandra walked slowly around the edge of the couch, circling Alonis. “What specific duties did you perform as the crown prince’s double?”
Alonis stood upright, staring straight ahead. “Numerous public appearances, if the prince’s life appeared to be at risk. Several visits to the battlefields during the Eastern rebellion to bolster the morale of the soldiers. I was also sent in place of the prince to the border negotiations between the Lunar colonies on New Vista and helped settle the dispute.”
“How do you think that the kingdom at large would respond if they realized that the crown prince was replaced by a replicant?”
“Likely not well, ma’am. Valdaire insists this is the best way to prevent the nobility from starting a war over succession.”
Queen Elandra came around Alonis’s flank, staring intently. “Tell me, Alonis the replicant, is it thrilling knowing that you will soon sit on the throne?”
Alonis looked downward again, withering under her gaze. “No, ma’am.”
“You are aware that it is improper to avert one’s eyes when speaking to the queen?”
“My apologies, ma’am.” Alonis lifted his head dutifully.
Fear shone in their depths. Eyes that both were and were not her son’s. She’d seen that same fear in the king’s eyes when the burden of leadership weighed heavy on his heart. A weight that her son had never been wise enough to understand.
“You have the heart of a servant,” Queen Elandra said, “which is good. But if you are to be king, you must not be always looking downward.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Alonis said. “Valdaire is often reminding me of this.”
“Listen to Valdaire.” Queen Elandra allowed the slightest degree of warmth into her tone. “He served the late king well for many years. He’ll not lead you astray.”
She reached out, straightening Alonis’s tunic.
“You are not my son,” she said. “You can never replace him to me, but as far as your place on the throne… you have my blessing.”
“You honor me, ma’am.” Alonis let out a relieved sigh. “I will do my best to serve with dignity.”
The Queen nodded and, without a word, turned for the door.
Valdaire stood outside the crown prince’s chambers, along with the sentry droids, and bowed as the queen exited.
“Give him a moment to himself,” she said. “He will have precious little of that.”
Valdaire nodded.
“You will see to it that the power does not go to his head? That he doesn’t get himself killed like my spoiled, drunken son?”
“Of course, My Queen.”
Queen Elandra pulled her mourning veil back down.
“Continue with your preparations, Valdiare. You still have much to do.”
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
I’ve spent a long time writing clone stories and this warmed my heart. Love it!!!
I loved this a lot!
Love to hear more of this story!!!
Thanks! I developed a lot of affection for Alonis while writing this.
I really liked the character of the queen! Great job fleshing her out in such a short scene.
The dialogue peels back so many character layers! And the court intrigue is just… YES. Amazing job. O_o
Loved that! Great dialogue.
I really liked the unlikely but genuine connection formed between the Queen and Alonis. Great character development in a short piece!
This was very intriguing and well-written. I liked it a lot!
WOW! This story. The direction it went you had me at every. single. word. Fantastic! Brilliant flash fiction.
Doing what is best for her people. Sounds like the replicant was better ruler material than his original.