Chapter 25: The Female King's Fire
The air in our cramped apartment was heavy, choking. Last night's Secretburger still sat sour on my tongue, like betrayal coated in grease.
Mom's words wouldn't stop echoing—
I'm seeing someone.
It didn't feel real. It felt like a blade lodged under my ribs, twisting with every breath.
The hum inside me hadn't stopped buzzing since she said it. A storm of doubt and rage swirled in my chest, sparking against my bones. I could feel Edenville's shadow clinging to her even now—her glow, her sharp new style, the way she moved like a woman carrying secrets she couldn't wait to tell… or couldn't risk saying out loud.
Paul.
Some faceless man from that viper's nest where my father's killers still walked free, where Mystery M waited like a wolf in the dark. I'd spent years protecting her from that place. But now? I wasn't so sure she wanted protection anymore.
Mom sat across from me, sipping that damn sweet fruit juice. Calm. Gentle. Like she hadn't just torn my world apart.
The hum hissed, sniffing for lies.
"I'm seeing someone," she said again, her voice steady, like it was nothing.
I froze. Fingers numb, breath stuck in my throat. "Seeing someone?" I echoed, voice low, sharp as glass. "That's what's been keeping you busy? The disappearances, the letters, the late nights, that trip to Edenville—all because of him?"
She nodded. Too calm. Too practiced. "We met online, Ella. His name's Paul."
The hum roared, hot and vicious.
"Online?" I spat. "And you fell in love?"
"Yes." Her smile was soft, infuriating. "He makes me happy, Isa—"
"Don't call me that!" The words exploded before I could stop them. I slammed my fist on the table, rattling the cheap glassware. "Only Dad called me that, and you just lost that right!"
Tears burned, but I refused to let them fall. My voice shook, every syllable scraping raw from my throat.
"How can you be so happy?"
She reached across the table, face crumbling. "Isa, baby, I know this is hard—"
"Don't!" I shouted, ripping my hand away. The hum burned like wildfire in my chest. "Stop pretending this is okay! You're erasing him, Mom—Dad's memories, his life, everything! You're running to extremes, trying to replace him with some online freak you barely know. Why?!"
The hum screamed louder, feeding every word, every jagged edge of betrayal.
"Every day is misery," I said, my voice cracking, raw and vicious. "I'm still crawling through the wreckage he left behind, trying to pick up pieces of myself, trying to figure out who the hell I even am. I put on a fake smile so people will leave me alone, so I'm not a burden to you or anyone else.
And you… you're out there playing house while I'm still bleeding inside?"
Her lips trembled. My rage only grew.
"Who is this 'Female King' they talk about?" I continued, standing now, shaking with fury. "A monster? A villain ready to kill those bastards? Maybe. A curious cat sniffing out danger? Probably. A hero fixing what's broken? Sometimes.
But one thing's for sure—" My voice dropped, low and lethal. "I'm my father's daughter. His heir. His Female King. And no man you meet online—no Paul, no fantasy romance—is ever going to change that."
The words detonated like a bomb.
Mom's face drained of color. Her glass trembled in her hand. "Ella," she whispered, her voice breaking. "I'm not erasing him. Paul's not… he's not replacing your father."
Her breath hitched, tears glinting in her lashes. "I just… I just want to live too."
The room went silent.
But the hum in my chest only grew darker, whispering truths I wasn't ready to face:
Even queens burn their own thrones when the fire's too strong.