Chapter 16: The Queen's Shadow
A storm of questions, poisonous whispers, and piercing, accusatory glares, this was the welcome Shapira received after leaving William and returning to the palace. Astellia's great hall, which had once felt like a gilded cage, had now become a silent battlefield where her reputation was the stake. The tension was as thick as the morning fog in Nymira, strangling her with every breath. Shapira felt the nobles' eyes on her, sharp and cold, judging her from every corner of the hall. Among them, Lady Isabelle stood tall, a cynical smile perfectly etched on her face, like an intricate carving on a crown stained with vengeance.
"Your Highness," a hoarse voice broke the silence. It was Lord Eldrin, an old nobleman with a white beard and sharp eyes, his voice rumbling like lava ready to erupt. He stepped forward, arms crossed over his chest, his gaze fixed on Shapira, who stood in the middle of the hall as if she were the only mistake in the room. "We've all been wondering about the girl. Where did she come from? Why is our noble prince so enchanted by a ... servant?"
Several other nobles nodded in agreement, their whispers rustling like dry leaves in the wind. Shapira felt her blood run cold, but she struggled to maintain her composure, her fingers clenching tightly within her sleeves. She turned her face away, pretending not to hear.
"Quite right, Lord Eldrin," Isabelle's voice sliced through the air, shrill and filled with satisfaction. She stepped forward, her silk gown rustling softly, creating a symphony of lies. "A servant who suddenly appeared out of nowhere, with an unbelievable story about another world. Isn't it strange, Your Highness, that our wise and cautious prince would suddenly be captivated by such a mysterious creature? Perhaps she used dark magic to bewitch Prince William."
Shapira's face paled. The accusation hit her like a hard slap. Dark magic? She didn't even know how to control her own powers. She stared at Isabelle, their eyes meeting in a battle of wills. Isabelle only smiled wider, as if she had just won a complex game of chess.
"I ... I didn't do that," Shapira whispered, her voice quiet amidst the growing suspicious murmurs. Her throat felt tight. She wanted to scream, to explain everything, but the words seemed trapped inside her. "I ... I mean no harm."
But no one heard her. Her words were lost, swallowed by the noise of prejudice. Shapira felt cornered, she knew she was a stranger in this world, and she didn't know how to convince them of her sincerity. Her heart sank, filled with disappointment that she didn't have William's help in this difficult time.
In the midst of the escalating chaos, the sound of trumpets suddenly blared from outside the palace, shattering the tension like a bolt of lightning. The low roar of soldiers and townspeople gathered in the courtyard could be heard, followed by the rumble of a royal carriage approaching at speed, its wheels clattering over the cobblestones. Queen Eleanor, Prince William's mother, had just returned from her long journey. Her arrival was met with joyous cheers and thunderous applause from the nobles, as if she were a long-awaited savior.
"Queen Eleanor has returned!" someone cried out, and a wave of relief swept through the hall.
For Shapira, however, the queen's arrival brought not relief, but a terrible premonition that weighed on her soul. Her heart pounded in her chest like an erratic war drum. She had heard the rumors about Queen Eleanor ... a woman who was graceful and dignified, but also known for her cold resolve and a gaze that could pierce through any lie. Shapira's eyes were fixed on the great hall doors as they swung open, revealing the figure of a woman in a deep blue silk gown adorned with glittering jewels. A simple yet elegant silver crown rested on her head, radiating an undeniable aura of power.
Queen Eleanor swept in with a graceful stride, her head held high, her gaze sweeping across the room. She had black hair tied back neatly, with a few thin strands of silver woven through it, a sign of her maturity that did not diminish her beauty. Her narrow face, with its high cheekbones, radiated severity. But what caught Shapira's attention most were her eyes, a pair of sharp, cold blue eyes, as if she could read every hidden thought and intention. A cold, calculating aura emanated from her, making Shapira feel like prey caught in a trap.
The moment Queen Eleanor stepped inside, Isabelle immediately slithered closer, like a snake gliding between rocks. She bowed respectfully, then whispered something in the Queen's ear, a thin smirk gracing her red-painted lips. Queen Eleanor's sharp eyes immediately turned toward Shapira, her appraising gaze so piercing it was as if Shapira were a stain on the palace's magnificent tapestry.
"So, this is the girl who has made my son lose his senses," Queen Eleanor's voice was clear, though she spoke in a low, piercing tone, like the slice of a cold blade. There was no warmth or kindness in her voice, only pure suspicion and judgment. Every word she spoke seemed to flood Shapira with a sense of helplessness.
The palace hall suddenly fell silent, even the smallest whisper vanished. All eyes were now on Queen Eleanor and Shapira, waiting for the drama to unfold. Queen Eleanor, graceful yet firm, extended a hand toward Shapira in a gesture that was not an invitation, but a command.
"Come here, girl," she ordered, her voice like grinding ice, sending a shiver through everyone in the hall. There was no warmth, no hesitation. Shapira felt her knees tremble slightly, but she forced herself to step forward, toward the Queen, as if walking toward an unavoidable fate.
As she stood before Queen Eleanor, Shapira felt the Queen's gaze pierce her very soul, searching for every crack, every weakness. The Queen's perfume, luxurious but cold like morning dew, was suffocating.
"Who are you, really?" Queen Eleanor began her interrogation, her voice sharp and probing, carving the words into the heavy air. "What is your purpose in getting close to Prince William? I have heard ... unpleasant stories about you. Are you an infiltrator? A spy sent to ruin Astellia from within?"
Shapira looked at Queen Eleanor, her eyes showing fear but also an unexpected resolve. She tried to gather her words, to explain a truth that would sound fantastical to anyone's ears.
"Your Majesty," Shapira began, her voice trembling, but she fought to control it. She clenched her hands behind her back, trying to channel what little courage she felt. "I ... I know this may be hard to believe, but I come from another world. I have no ill intentions toward Prince William, or Astellia. I ... I was just lost, and the door that brought me here ... it disappeared."
Queen Eleanor gave a thin smirk, as if Shapira had just told a bad joke. She folded her arms across her chest, her gaze growing colder, not a hint of mercy in her eyes.
"Another world? A rather ridiculous story, girl," Queen Eleanor sneered, her words dripping with contempt. "Do you expect me to believe such a fairy tale? What did Isolde teach you, hmm? I don't believe a single word you say. You are a threat to my son, to Astellia. And I, as Queen, will not allow it."
Every word Queen Eleanor spoke felt like a hammer blow to Shapira's chest, shattering her hopes of being accepted. She saw Shapira as a threat to her son and the kingdom, a stain to be removed. Shapira looked down, feeling tears begin to well in her eyes. She didn't know how to convince the Queen. How could one person fight against prejudice so strong and deep-rooted?
Queen Eleanor waved her hand, signaling that Shapira's interrogation was over for now. Shapira felt a moment of relief, but only for a moment, for she knew this was not the end of her suffering. She took a few steps back, returning to her original spot in the middle of the hall, feeling the Queen's sharp gaze still following her.
Wasting no time, Isabelle immediately stepped forward again, her triumphant smile widening. She bowed low before Queen Eleanor, then spoke in a voice she deliberately made soft and convincing, full of cunning insinuation.
"Your Majesty, did I not warn you?" Isabelle began, her voice a whisper, but loud enough for some of the nearby nobles to hear. She glanced at Shapira, that cynical smile returning to her lips. "That girl ... she is nothing more than a cunning witch, preying on Prince William's ignorance. She only wants power and influence. She will do anything to achieve her goals, even if it means destroying Astellia from within."
Queen Eleanor listened to Isabelle's every word intently, her sharp eyes narrowing. She seemed to be contemplating, processing every accusation thrown. Her tense face slowly softened into an expression of deep anger and concern. Isabelle's lies, presented so convincingly, seemed to become irrefutable truth in the Queen's mind.
"She even dared to claim she's from another world, Your Majesty," Isabelle added, seeing the effect of her words. "A ridiculous story, unfit to be spoken before a wise Queen such as yourself. She must possess forbidden magic to make Prince William believe her. Remember, she is Isolde's child, Your Majesty. The blood of a traitor runs in her veins."
The words "Isolde's child" thundered in Shapira's ears, making her flinch. A chill ran down her spine. Isolde's blood. A brand she could not remove, a shadow that would always follow her. Queen Eleanor, already prejudiced, was further swayed by Isabelle's instigation. Worry for her son's safety and the kingdom's completely consumed her.
"I see it, Isabelle," Queen Eleanor sighed heavily, her voice filled with deep anger and disappointment. She looked at Shapira again, this time with a gaze that went beyond mere prejudice, it was a look of pure hostility. "That girl does not belong in this palace, let alone near my son. She is a real danger."
Queen Eleanor clenched her fist, the jeweled ring on her finger glittering sharply. She turned to Isabelle, her gaze now filled with resolute determination.
"I will not let her ruin William's happiness, or the stability of our kingdom," Queen Eleanor vowed, her voice low but full of menace. "She must be removed from here. Whatever it takes, I will rid this palace of Shapira."
Shapira, hearing every word clearly, felt her heart drop into the pit of her stomach. The malicious plan had been set. She felt like a helpless puppet, pulled into a game she didn't understand, with her life as the stake.
Queen Eleanor's vow thundered in Shapira's mind, eroding what little hope she had left. The air in the hall felt cold and thin, as if the oxygen had been stolen by the malevolent intent just revealed. Shapira could feel a tremor inside her, not just from the cold air, but from the terror that had begun to creep into every fiber of her being. She knew, from the cold gaze and the determination radiating from the Queen's eyes, that the monarch would not stop until she had succeeded in getting rid of Shapira.
"Guards!" Queen Eleanor called out, her previously low voice now an irrefutable command, shattering the oppressive silence. "Watch this girl closely. Every movement, every whisper. I want to know everything. Do not let her out of your sight for even a moment."
Several soldiers in gleaming armor immediately stepped forward, their eyes fixed on Shapira. They stood around her, forming a tight circle, as if she were a criminal about to flee. Shapira felt their piercing stares, her every step was now watched, her every breath measured.
Queen Eleanor then turned to Lord Eldrin and Isabelle, her smile returning, but it was not a smile of happiness, but one of cold satisfaction.
"I will find a way to frame her," Queen Eleanor said, her voice dropping back to a conspiratorial whisper, but one that felt more terrifying than a shout. "She must appear guilty in everyone's eyes. We cannot let Prince William remain caught in her false enchantment. Find proof, or create it if you must. I don't care how, just as long as she is gone."
Isabelle nodded enthusiastically, her eyes gleaming with cunning. "Of course, Your Majesty. Leave it to me. Astellia will be free of this threat. Your son will return to the right path."
Shapira could no longer hold back her tears. The clear drops fell, wetting her cheeks, as cold as beads of frost. She felt cornered, trapped, and utterly alone. William had promised to protect her, but now, he wasn't here. He couldn't see how threatened she was, couldn't feel how broken her heart was.
Queen Eleanor, as if to ensure her message was understood, gave Shapira one last, piercing look.
"That girl must be eliminated," Queen Eleanor said in a voice as cold as steel, the words echoing in Shapira's mind, carving a deep fear into her. "She does not deserve to be near my son. And I will make sure she never shows her face in this palace again."
Shapira knew. She knew that Queen Eleanor would not stop until she had gotten rid of her. The threat was real, more real than anything she had ever faced before. She had to find a way to protect herself and her love for William. But how? How could a girl with no power, no allies, fight the formidable Queen of Astellia, with the entire court behind her? How could Shapira escape the nest of vipers she had walked into? The questions spun in her mind, unanswered, leaving only a darkness and despair that threatened to swallow her whole. She had to find a way, or she would be destroyed by the shadows of a dark past.