After Kaelen stormed out of the room, Margret let out a shaky breath, her body trembling as she glanced toward the closet. Slowly, the door creaked open, and Evelyn stepped out, cradling the female child tightly in her arms. Behind her, Princess Genevieve, wide-eyed and pale, followed, her expression mirroring her mother's anxiety.
Margret reached out, her hands trembling as she gently touched the tiny face of her daughter. "There's no time," she whispered hoarsely, her voice thick with urgency. She turned to Evelyn, her gaze sharp and resolute.
"Take the boy," she said firmly, motioning to the frail male child swaddled on the bed. "Do whatever it takes to save him. Go to a physician, pay them whatever they ask, but save him, Evelyn. He is the kingdom's only hope now."
Evelyn hesitated, her guilt evident as she glanced at the female child in her arms. "But what about her?" she asked softly. "What if Kaelen finds out about—"
"I will handle her," Margret interrupted, her voice steadier now. "The entire palace believes I've given birth to a boy. Kaelen will spread the word. No one will dare question it. But you must go—now. Take the boy far away and protect him with your life."
Evelyn nodded, though her hands shook as she reached for the boy. Guilt gnawed at her, but she knew there was no other way. Cradling the frail infant, she cast one last glance at her sister. "I'll do my best, Margret," she whispered, then slipped out of the room, the weight of her decision pressing heavily on her.
Moments later, the door to the chamber opened again. Queen Elira entered, her smile as sharp as a blade. "Congratulations, Margret," she said sweetly, her gaze flickering to the bundle in Margret's arms. "A male heir at last. The kingdom will rejoice."
Margret forced a weak smile, clutching the child tighter. "Thank you," she murmured.
Elira's eyes narrowed slightly as she stepped closer. "May I hold him? Just for a moment?"
"No!" Margret's voice was sharp, echoing through the room. Elira stopped, startled.
Margret's chest heaved as she glared at the older queen. "Until the traitor who killed my husband is found, no one will touch my child," she hissed. "I don't trust anyone. Not yet."
Elira studied her carefully, then nodded with a faint smile. "Very well, Margret. Your caution is understandable." She turned and left the room, her expression unreadable.
Once alone, Margret sagged against the bed, relief flooding her. The charade had begun.
Meanwhile, Evelyn hurried through the shadowed halls of the palace, the male child in her arms growing colder with each passing moment. Doubt and dark thoughts plagued her mind.
She reached a hidden grove near the palace gardens and stopped, her breathing ragged. The baby whimpered weakly, barely clinging to life. Evelyn's heart twisted with guilt, and a terrible thought crossed her mind.
No one would ever know, she thought bitterly. If I ended this now, the burden would be gone. Margret would never find out.
Her grip tightened on the fragile infant, her hands trembling as she contemplated the unthinkable. But then, an image of her sister's desperate face flashed through her mind. Margret's faith in her was unwavering, her plea ringing in Evelyn's ears.
Tears welled in her eyes as she shook her head fiercely. "I can't," she whispered, her voice breaking. "I won't."
Renewed determination surged through her, and she turned, rushing toward a secluded cottage hidden deep in the forest. The secret physician who lived there owed her a debt—a debt she intended to collect.
She burst into the physician's home, startling the older man. "Save him," she demanded, shoving a pouch of gold into his hands. "Do whatever it takes, but save him."
The physician hesitated, then nodded grimly, taking the baby from her arms. Evelyn lingered for a moment, her heart heavy, then turned and disappeared into the shadows. She couldn't stay. The secret had to remain buried.
As she left, the sound of the baby's faint cries followed her, haunting her with every step.
*********
Evelyn hurried through the palace halls, her heart pounding with every step. The echoes of her hurried footsteps seemed deafening in the silence of the night. She had just returned from the physician's cottage, leaving the male child in the care of someone she prayed could save him. Her mind raced with a mixture of guilt and fear. She had done what Margret asked, but at what cost?
Turning a corner, she suddenly collided with Kaelen. The force of the impact made her stumble back, and she felt her breath catch in her throat as his piercing gaze bore into hers.
"Evelyn," he said sharply, his tone laced with suspicion. "Where have you been?"
She quickly composed herself, forcing an air of calm despite the panic rising in her chest. "I... I went for a walk," she lied, her voice steady. "I needed some air after everything that's happened."
Kaelen's eyes narrowed. "At this hour? And without informing anyone? What are you hiding?"
Evelyn straightened, feigning indignation. "Hiding? Don't be ridiculous. I'm grieving, Kaelen. My sister lost her husband, and the palace is in chaos. Excuse me if I needed a moment to myself."
But Kaelen wasn't convinced. His gaze dropped to her hands, which were trembling slightly despite her efforts to appear calm. "You're lying," he said coldly. "I can see it. Tell me the truth, Evelyn. Where have you been?"
She hesitated, her mind scrambling for an explanation. Then, an idea struck her—a gamble she had no choice but to take.
"I killed him," she blurted out, her voice barely above a whisper.
Kaelen froze, his expression shifting from suspicion to confusion. "Killed who?"
"The male child," Evelyn said, her voice growing firmer. "The one Margret birthed. I couldn't risk him becoming king, not after everything we've lost. I took care of it."
For a moment, Kaelen said nothing, his eyes searching hers for any sign of deceit. Then he laughed—a low, humorless sound that sent chills down Evelyn's spine.
"You're lying," he said again, but this time there was a twisted amusement in his tone. "The male child is with Margret right now. She's holding him in her chambers as we speak."
Evelyn's heart skipped a beat, but she quickly recovered. "That's not the male child," she said, her voice steady. "It's the female. Margret gave birth to twins, Kaelen—a boy and a girl. The boy is dead. She's pretending the girl is a boy to protect the throne."
Kaelen's smile widened, his eyes gleaming with malevolence. "Twins?" he repeated, as if savoring the word. "Well, isn't that an interesting twist?"
Evelyn's stomach churned. She had played her hand, but now she feared she had given Kaelen exactly what he needed.
Kaelen turned on his heel, his voice cutting through the tense air like a blade. "I think it's time I put an end to this?"
Before Evelyn could respond, he was already striding down the hall, his steps purposeful and unrelenting. Panic surged through her, but she forced herself to stay rooted to the spot, knowing she couldn't afford to follow him now. All she could do was pray that Margret would be ready for whatever storm Kaelen was about to unleash.
.