The palace was quiet in the early evening, the twins asleep in their chambers. Ophelia sat by the window, quill in hand, a soft sigh escaping her lips. Across the battlefield, Selara had endured yet another cruel twist of fate.
The news had arrived swiftly: the child Selara and Aren had longed for was gone. Not by chance. Not by misfortune alone. Someone had acted. Someone had turned joy into grief.
Ophelia's heart ached for her sister. She took up her quill immediately, words flowing like a river of love and sorrow.
Ophelia's Letter to Selara:
My dearest Selara,
I cannot begin to describe how my heart breaks for you and Aren. Losing a child… it is a pain I cannot even imagine. Please know that even across miles, I am with you in spirit. I am here — always — whenever you need me.
Lean on me. Cry on my shoulder, pour your grief into my letters. Whatever you need, whenever you need it, I will not leave you. You are not alone, my sister. Never alone.
I wish I could be there, to hold you, to tell you it will get easier… though I know some pain is never fully healed. Still, I will carry your sorrow alongside my own, and I will remain by your side, always.
Forever yours,
Ophelia
Meanwhile, in the polished halls of the palace, Merideth smiled softly. Sweet. Concerned. Polite.
She had heard Ophelia talk, weeks ago, about Selara's marriage and the child she was expecting. A slip of information, shared in innocence and trust. But Merideth had acted, quietly, deliberately.
A letter had been written, folded neatly, sealed with a flourish. A bribe hidden within, instructions carried to the enemy camp by a mercenary: find someone… finish the job.
Merideth's hands were steady. Calm. Perfectly composed. Then, she returned to the palace, her demeanor unshakable, flawless, serene.
Later, she approached Ophelia. Her voice was soft, her expression mournful.
"I heard about Selara… about her child," she said. "I am so, so sorry. I cannot imagine what you and she are going through. Truly… it is devastating."
Ophelia nodded, trusting as always. "Thank you… your words mean a great deal."
Merideth's lips curved in a faint, hidden smile once Ophelia turned away. She had played her part perfectly. The world believed her concern genuine. The reality? She had orchestrated the tragedy that now haunted Selara's heart.
Everything appears ordinary… as it should.
Far away, Selara clutched the empty hope of what could have been, grief pressing down like a storm she could not escape. Aren stayed close, whispering what comfort he could, but the loss was raw, unyielding.
Ophelia's letters arrived, a lifeline across the distance. They reminded Selara that she was not alone, that love and support could exist even in the darkest hours. Yet in the shadows, Merideth's deceit lingered, unseen and deadly, ready to strike again.
The palace smiled. The letters flowed. The world seemed calm. But the truth — the cruel, hidden truth — was already in motion, and no one yet suspected the betrayal behind those perfect words and polite sympathy.