The hallway lay in hush as Kael led Aurora to the threshold of Aldric's chamber. He bowed once and withdrew without a word.
Aurora stepped inside.
The air struck her at once—wrong. Cold where warmth should have been. Still where life should have stirred.
"Aldric?" she called, moving swiftly toward the center of the chamber.
No answer.
A chill raced through her veins. Panic surged, sharp and merciless.
She lifted her hands. Whispered a spell.
And vanished.
-
The forest stood thick and breathless, branches tangled like ribs, roots clawing at the earth. Frost crept outward from a lone figure at its heart.
Elisa waited.
She felt the air ripple.
Aurora emerged from nothing.
"It was you?" Aurora asked, brows lifting.
"Yes," Elisa replied, eyes gleaming. "I took Aldric. Because I knew you would come for him. And you did."
"Where is he?" Aurora demanded, her voice hardening. "Have you hurt him?" Her fists clenched.
"Oh no," Elisa chuckled softly. "He is safe. He will not remember any of this when he wakes." Her smile thinned. "Harming him would mean drawing your wrath."
Aurora exhaled in relief. That alone cooled the fire in her chest.
"What do you want?" she asked flatly.
"You know what we want."
"And I said no."
"We do not take no for an answer, child. War looms. We need you."
"Fight your war as I fought mine alone growing up."
"Aurora—"
"Do not," Aurora cut in. "Spare me your excuses. Give me Aldric, and I will leave peacefully."
"That is impossible. If you insist, Aldric will be—"
"You dare not," Aurora growled. The ground trembled beneath her voice, her eyes blazing blue.
"Give me Aldric," she said, stepping forward, lightning sparking in her palms. "Or face my wrath."
"You dare threaten your own mother?"
"You threatened me first."
"Then I have no choice," Elisa said coldly. "If not willingly, I will take you by force."
Elisa struck first—lightning tearing from her hands.
Aurora lifted a single finger.
Her answering bolt roared forth, shaking the forest itself. Trees bent. The earth split. But before it could strike Elisa— Aurora stopped it.
The air screamed into silence.
Elisa stood frozen, breath stolen. Never in her life had she seen such power.
"Where is Aldric," Aurora said quietly. "I will not ask again."
Elisa said nothing. She only whispered a spell.
Aldric appeared. Not himself. His eyes empty. His body still.
Aurora rushed to him, catching him before he could fall. She glared once at her mother—then vanished.
-
The chamber reformed around them in cool shadow.
Aurora eased Aldric into his chair and murmured a counter-spell, her hands glowing faintly.
His breath hitched. Then steadied. He stirred.
"Aurora?" he murmured, eyes clearing.
"Yes, Your Majesty."
"I asked Kael to bring you, and then…" His brow furrowed. "I cannot recall what happened after."
"Your Majesty," she said gently. "I arrived not long ago."
Confusion flickered across his face, but he let it pass.
"I called you to ask about the war," he said. "Roderic fell too quickly. Something felt wrong."
Aurora smiled faintly. "I did it. I weakened him for you."
Aldric blinked—but before he could speak—
"You must rest, Your Majesty," she said softly. "I will send your handmaidens."
He nodded, though unease lingered in his eyes.
Aurora bowed and slipped away.
Back in her chamber, she locked the door and raised her hands.
Spells poured from her lips—layer upon layer of protection. Barriers. Wards. Bindings.
Her power settled around Aldric like invisible armor.
"Now," she whispered, voice low and fierce, "no one will dare touch you again."
-
The sun rose gently over Velmora, painting the palace in hues of soft gold. Birds sang from the gardens, and the courtyard echoed with the cheerful voices of handmaidens at work. Buckets of water clinked, fabrics rustled in the breeze, laughter drifted through the open corridors—it was a morning of peace, the kind that made the marble walls seem warmer, alive.
In Aurora's chambers, her maids worked carefully, weaving her long white hair with ribbons of blue that shimmered like drops of water under light. A gown of pure white flowed over her, the color only amplifying the unusual glow of her eyes. She seemed ethereal, almost too luminous for the chamber she stood in. When Lira adjusted the last pin, Aurora gave her a faint smile.
The dining hall was filled with the fragrance of roasted grains, fruits, and spiced teas. At the long table, three queens were already seated—Selene with her composed poise, Virelda with her sharp, watchful gaze, and Aurora quietly folding her hands before her. Evelyn, radiant as always, completed the circle, her lips curving into a practiced smile that rarely faltered.
When Queen Ava entered, every woman rose at once, heads bowed in reverence. The matriarch's presence filled the chamber like sunlight through stained glass—warm, commanding, steady. With a gracious wave, she bade them sit.
"I bring word," she began, her voice smooth but firm. "His Majesty will not join us this morning. Matters of kingdom call for his attention."
A ripple of polite nods followed.
Ava's eyes drifted toward Selene. "Your father, General Alric, has done a great service for the king this past month and during the last war. You must thank him on behalf of the royal family."
Selene's lips curled into a graceful smile, though beneath it her heart leapt.
"My father only fulfills his duty, Mother." She lowered her gaze humbly, though inside she basked in the silent victory—an acknowledgment that set her above the others, even if only for a breath of time.
Ava reached for her cup of tea, her expression softening. "The royal women's hunt draws near. I trust you are all prepared?"
"Yes, Mother," they chimed, smiling in turn. For a brief moment, their unity seemed real.
But then, just as Ava's attention dipped, a silent exchange sparked. Evelyn's gaze flicked to Selene's, then to Virelda's—three pairs of eyes catching, holding, releasing in the span of a heartbeat. The corners of Evelyn's mouth lifted ever so slightly, Selene's lashes lowered in understanding, and Virelda's lips pressed into the faintest curve. It was over before anyone else could notice.
Aurora, oblivious, lifted her teacup. Ava, none the wiser, went on.
Her eyes shifted to Evelyn. "Princess, you have lingered here for some time. When do you plan to return to your kingdom? Surely your kingdom misses you."
Evelyn's smile was honey-smooth as she lowered her gaze. "If it pleases Your Grace, I would stay a little longer. I have never attended a royal hunt before. To join this one would be a great honor—a memory to carry with me back to Elareth."
The chamber grew quiet. Ava considered her carefully, her brows slightly furrowed.
"The hunt is a Velmoran tradition. It is only for Velmoran queens."
Still, Evelyn's smile did not waver. "Then let this be the first memory I share with you. A gift to carry home."
The matriarch hesitated. Her gaze turned toward Aurora, as though seeking her measure. Aurora met her eyes and gave a soft smile.
"Let her come, Mother," she said gently.
At that, Ava exhaled, as if she had already known the answer. "Very well, then. You shall attend."
Evelyn bowed her head, gratitude shimmering across her face. Inside, her heart blazed with triumph. Across the table, Selene let out a quiet breath she had not realized she was holding.
Plates were set, and the quiet clatter of utensils filled the chamber. Fruits, pastries, and roasted fowl gleamed under the morning light.
But Aurora barely touched her meal. She pushed food with her fork, her face pale, her gaze distant. Ava noticed first.
"Child," she said softly, "why do you not eat?"
Aurora's lashes lifted, her voice calm but weary. "I have no appetite. I feel… nauseous."
The air changed instantly. A silence heavier than stone dropped over the table. Every queen froze, even the handmaidens at the edges of the chamber stilled, as though the word itself had sucked the air from their lungs.
Ava's eyes sharpened, then softened with dawning light. "How long has this been?"
Aurora lowered her gaze. "A while now."
For the first time that morning, Ava's face broke into a smile, one that erased years of quiet restraint. She stood so suddenly her chair scraped the floor "Elyna!" she called, her voice urgent but joyous. "Fetch the royal physician at once, and bring him to my chamber."
Aurora rose halfway in protest. "Mother, I am not ill—"
But Ava was already at her side, taking her hand, her grip firm with certainty. "Come," she urged, almost dragging her toward the corridor. "Come with me now."
The queens left behind could only stare, frozen in varying shades of disbelief. Selene pushed her chair back first, her body tense.
Virelda's eyes narrowed. "Where are you going?"
Selene's answer was swift, almost too sharp. "To Mother's chamber."
"Why?" Virelda pressed.
Selene's jaw tightened. "To confirm what I fear to be true."
She swept from the chamber.
Virelda hesitated only a moment before rising as well. Evelyn, her curiosity burning, followed close behind.
-
Aurora lay on the soft bed in Ava's chamber, pale against the embroidered sheets. The royal physician, an elderly man with steady hands, moved with practiced care as he examined her.
Ava sat nearby, her fingers clasped, her eyes never leaving Aurora. A mixture of anticipation and silent prayer filled her face.
Behind them, three other women stood like shadows at the edge of the chamber. Selene's face was taut with hidden desperation. Virelda's mask was carved of stone, unreadable. Evelyn's smile was faint, but her eyes burned, hungry for the verdict.
When the physician finally rose, he bowed low to Ava. His words were measured, but his voice carried.
"Your Grace… I congratulate you. Queen Aurora carries a child."
The silence that followed was deafening.
Aurora's lips parted, her breath caught—stunned, as though the ground beneath her feet had shifted.
Ava's hands flew to her mouth before joy broke loose, radiant and unrestrained. She rushed to Aurora's side, gathered her into an embrace, her voice trembling with laughter.
"Finally," Ava whispered, tears brightening her eyes. "Finally, I shall have a grandchild."
Behind them, the three women smiled too—sweet, polished, perfect smiles. But inside, fire clashed with fire. Selene's heart clenched in fury. Virelda's silence was colder than steel. Evelyn's hands curled lightly into fists, her nails biting her palms.
Aurora, caught between shock and the weight of Ava's embrace, could only close her eyes. The chamber felt too full, too heavy, as if shadows pressed in from every corner.
Virelda, Selene and Evelyn silently excused themselves, the door shut softly behind them, shutting out Ava's delighted laughter and Aurora's stunned silence. The air inside the chamber felt heavy, as though their anger itself had thickened it.
Selene paced first, her gown whispering angrily against the stone floor. Her face was pale, her hands trembling not from fear but from the venom boiling in her veins.
"Do you hear it?" she hissed, turning abruptly to face the others. "That cursed word—grandchild." Her lip curled. "All my years in this palace, all my sacrifices, and not once did His Majesty even look my way. Not once. And yet she—" Selene spat the word—"steps in as if carried on the wind, and now she bears his child?"
Her voice cracked with bitterness, though her eyes burned bright.
Virelda did not pace. She stood near the window, the light outlining her in quiet sorrow. Her arms were folded tight, as if holding herself together. She said nothing, but the sadness written across her face was louder than words. The way her eyes avoided theirs told her heart's truth—this hurt her deeply, but despair weighed her down more than rage.
Evelyn, however, smiled thinly. She leaned lazily against the carved frame of the bed, her voice velvet but sharp.
"And this, my queens, is why I came to Velmora. I told you, did I not? Aurora must be removed. With a child, she will not only be untouchable, she will rise above both of you. Think of it—heirs to Velmora, born of her blood. Do you imagine His Majesty will keep his gaze elsewhere once he has an heir through her?"
Selene's fists clenched. "No. Never."
Evelyn's eyes glimmered as she leaned forward, her tone low and poisonous. "Then we must succeed. This is not just about jealousy or wounded pride. This is survival. You know what it means if she delivers that child—your places, your crowns, even your voices here… all will wither."
Virelda finally spoke, her voice quiet but laden with grief. "And what if we fail? What if His Majesty discovers? His wrath would burn us all."
"Failure is not an option," Selene snapped, spinning to face her. "Do you wish to live in Aurora's shadow forever? To bow your head while she parades about as mother of the heir?"
Evelyn's smile grew colder, feeding on the storm. "Selene is right. This news does not change our plan. It only sharpens it. Her death must come swiftly, and before that child sees light. Otherwise…" She paused, letting the silence suffocate them for a moment. "…it will be too late for all of us."
The three women fell into silence, the unspoken truth pressing upon them.
Beyond the chamber walls, laughter and excitement stirred for Aurora's unborn child. But inside, the seeds of darker resolve rooted deeper than ever.
Selene's smirk returned, bitter and resolute. "Then it is settled. We strike as planned. And if fate dares to favor her again—" she lifted her chin, her eyes glittering with spite—"then fate itself will learn it has chosen poorly."
Evelyn nodded, eyes gleaming. Virelda only sat there, her chest still aching from the news.