Long Live the King, Long Live the Queen by Maria Panfiorova

From the moment she saw his arrogant eyes and his dark curls, she knew.
From the moment she saw scars on his ankles, there was no place for a doubt — the prophecy had been fulfilled and the rest was only up to her.
The night was dry and moonless and nobody saw Queen Jocasta approaching her servant’s house.
“Your majesty…” the servant humbled and let her in.
“Tell me one thing — why have you left the wedding in such a hurry?”
For a moment, he stood there silent, as if he was caught red-handed in the middle of a crime.
“I see”, she was unwilling to wait for him coming with some meaningless lie. “You were there when my first husband died, weren’t you?”
“Yes, it was I… I mean, I was there”.
Her first husband — the man who ordered to kill her newborn son. “Laius is a bad choice”, Creon used to say. No, Laius was rapist, kidnapper, and murderer but never a choice. The body of her husband was burning in funeral fire, she sighed with relief.
“Don’t you think I forgot about you? Don’t you think I haven’t noticed your face turning white once you saw Oedipus? Answer me! Have you met him before?”
“Yes, I have”, servant’s voice sounded helpless, “he was there, when old king died”.
“Oedipus was one of the bandits, wasn’t he?”
“There were no bandits, your majesty, only him”.
The boy defeated the monster — same old story; it hardly matters whether he used his fists or his wits. “He appears to be something unexpectedly exceptional”, Creon said to her after Oedipus declared his triumph over Sphinx, “I still don’t like him, though”.
“I see now…”
All the pieces came together: prophecy had indeed been fulfilled. What was she doing? What was she going to do? Sin and lie, hoping for the best? “Oh, Laius! Laius! What have you done? Even from your grave, you’re causing nothing but misery!” Jocasta hided her anger and frustration.
“I’m begging you, it was only a white lie” he was talking as if all words lost their meaning. “I’m only worried about your son”.
Jocasta flinched.
“My son?”
“If king Oedipus finds out that Laius’s son is still alive, gods know what he’ll do”.
Deep down inside, she was laughing, even with relief and guilt stuck in her throat. She was a softhearted mother, but a strict queen nevertheless.
“And yet you are the only one who can tell him”.
He looked at her terrified, as the obvious answer came to him. Jocasta, however, would never follow obvious answers — these were the Laius’s bloody ways, and she would never even consider it.
“I’ll let you live for now, I can even provide you another life in the country, as I haven’t forgotten what you did for me. However, nobody should ever know”.
The servant left Thebes quietly and nobody, but Jocasta, knew. She might have realized, however, that the lie may not last forever. One day all the clues would come together, as the curse was unbreakable and gods showed no mercy. Then it wouldn’t matter whether her crimes had been committed in the name of love and life.
But, until that day, long live king Oedipus.