Micah was literally breathless when she arrived at the door leading to the throne room. She had been walking too fast, and now she had to pause to catch her breath.
Then she pushes the door open, only to be welcomed with nothing…nothing at all.
She steps in, her anxious gaze roaming around the room, even up to the ceiling as though someone might be there, but there was no one.
Her shoulders dropped at the thought that flashed through her brain.
He was gone.
She was too late.
She didn't bid him farewell, and he went to war. What if he dies? What if he never returns?
Well, it was too late to think about that now.
Just then a guard walks up to her and opens his mouth to say something, but she raises her hand in the air, signifying him to remain put.
"Not now."
She muttered, then drifted away from the guard.
"Your Highness, Queen Jazell has summoned you to her chamber."
Micah stopped walking when she heard the guard's words but continued anyway, making her way to her chamber.
....
"My lady, your tea is getting cold; shall I serve it?"
Linn questioned in a courteous manner, and Jazell gave her a go-ahead by simply waving off her hand.
"He is gone; he really is."
Jazell mumbled from where she was seated on an armchair beside the fireplace in the chamber.
"Do you know what that means, Linn?"
She questioned, but Linn knew better than to provide the answer to that question. She had spent a valuable part of her time working for Jazell, and she knew the best thing to do was to remain clueless.
"No, my lady, you tell me, what does it mean?"
She retorted, her hand steadily holding the cup of hot tea on a saucer, the steam rising above her face, making her vision a bit foggy.
"It means my chances of becoming a widow are getting higher by the minute."
Jazell said, her hand flying to the golden pendant on her neck, her icy blue eyes, as bright as sapphires, remaining still.
"The king will not die, my lady."
Linn said before settling the cup of tea on a table beside the armchair.
"How are you so sure? You can never tell, Linn; fate can be very cruel."
She takes hold of the cup of tea and slowly brings it to her lips. She takes a sip, and it burns against her tongue.
"Too hot!
She said, putting it down, with annoyance taking form on her face.
"But, my lady, you like your tea hot."
Linn said, taking the cup of tea from where it was, she begins to fan it with a feather fan.
"I remember lucidly; I used to drink wine, Linn, not tea!
She rises up from the chair, then makes her way to the hammock swing in the room, where she reclines gently; while lying on her back, her protruding stomach faces up.
"You cannot have wine, my lady. It is not healthy for the child."
Linn says, then puts out the cup of tea she has been fanning down. She was now sweating due to the steam that had been evaporating ever since she made it her priority to cool off the tea.
But now it seemed Jazell wasn't going to drink it anyway.
'Did you make sure Micah received my message?"
Jazell questioned with her eyes shut.
"Yes, my lady, I had a guard run the errand…"
"But I made it clear I wanted it to be you, Linn."
"I had to stay here in case you needed anything; I cannot leave you alone in your condition."
She tried to explain, but Jazell won't hear it.
"Do you dare to challenge me?"
"No…no My lady, I ask for your mercy."
Linn says, her eyes dropping to the ground.
Jazell remained silent for a while, and during that moment Linn stood where she was, her gaze still fixed on the floor.
"My lady…?"
She called out softly but got no answer in reply.
She raised her gaze and glanced ahead; Jazell made no sign of movement, only the steady rise and fall of her chest.
Linn walked up to where she lay on the hammock swing briskly. She glanced down at her mistress and realized she had fallen asleep.
She sighs heavily, then walks up to a drawer where she pulls out a thick blanket.
She unfolds the blanket and uses it to cover up Jazell, being gentle so as not to wake her up.
Just then, a knock on the door sounded.
Linn finished up with what she was doing and then made her way to the door. She opens the door and sees that it is Tamar, Micah's personal handmaid.
"What do you want?"
She whispered, then turned her head over her shoulder to make sure her mistress was still asleep before turning to look at Tamar.
"The queen mother has summoned Queen Jazell to the courtyard."
Tamar said, and Linn's brows creased.
"Queen Jazell is not in the condition to receive calls."
She says, then tries to lock the door, but Tamar gets in the way, using her hand to hold the door in place; she glances over Linn's shoulders.
"The queen is asleep."
She mutters, with her brows arched.
"Exactly!
Linn said firmly, already exhausted from standing too much.
"Have dowager Selena understand that Queen Jazell is under the weather and is yet to recover."
At this Tamar turned and took her leave, and Linn finally shut the door, feeling a weight off her shoulders.
She rests on the door, sliding down until her butt hits the cold floor.
Finally, a time to breathe.
...…..
The moon hung pressed high into the dark sky—casting a cold shimmer over the marching column.
The soldiers moved in disciplined ranks, their footsteps thudding in unison, the sound swallowed and reshaped by the vast night.
At their head rode Ragaleon.
He seemed carved into the saddle, upright and immovable. His dark, shoulder-length hair stirred with each gust, strands gleaming faintly.
A heavy cloak trailed behind him, brushing against the horse's flanks, its edges rippling.
Though the hour was late, his eyes held no fatigue, only a resolute calm that steadied the men behind him.
Ragaleon had his fleet marching to the battle line from dawn till sundown.
It was a hectic task, but they all forbore, marching with their chests out and singing a battle song.
At first it rose softly, like a murmur carried on the wind.
A single voice in the rear ranks hummed a familiar tune, low and steady, and another voice joined, then another, until the quiet night began to vibrate with the growing sound.
A battle song.
"Steel to the earth, and faith to the throne…"
"Stand as one till the dark is undone…"
The song thumped in the ground with their marching steps. Their unity was a shield stronger than any forged metal.
Beside him, William rode on his own white horse. Their horses moved side by side, their pale coats shining faintly under the moonlight.
William had been quiet throughout the journey. He kept an open eye, but his lips remained sealed.
"You are awfully quiet."
Ragaleon said, his voice weaving through the battle song his men were singing.
"There is nothing to talk about."
William answered, tightening his grip on the rein controlling his horse. His face was cold, and his voice barely audible.
"There are a lot of things to talk about, William, but not with me."
Ragaleon answered plainly, picking up a pace on his horse by kicking it slightly.
Williams' brows creased; he also kicked his horse and trotted it to match Ragaleon's pace.
"Would it have helped if I had brought some company? There are many women in the castle; I could have had one of them escort us."
"You think too little of me."
William retorted, his face downcast.
"I have no need for pleasures, not when I want to keep a clear head for the battle."
He added, and Ragaleon snorted. His thin lips curved into a striking grin.
"Wine then?
You have always had a fine taste for wine."
William shot him a stern glare before focusing his gaze ahead.
"You take a lot of satisfaction from getting on my nerves, don't you?
He questioned and then inhaled roughly.
"Don't take it personally; I am just trying to lighten up your mood."
Ragaleon says before accessing his brother's face.
"It seems I have done a bad job."
He concluded with a knowing smile.
William suddenly brings his horse to a stop, and the rest of the men marching also come to a halt.
"We are going through the wrong part."
He said as his hawk eyes scanned the arena, as if searching for something.
"You do not know what you are talking about."
Ragaleon said, shoving his words aside.
"I do, for once, trust my instincts. This is a trap."
William pressed on.
"You are right."
A voice came from the thick darkness, like some shadow.
Ragaleon remained still, his golden brown eyes fixed on the moving figure, his hands reaching out to his sword.
"There is no cause for alarm, brother; he is with us."
William reassures him, and Ragaleon turns to look at him.
"What?"
The mysterious man finally steps out of the shadows, a black cloak wrapped around his frame, a hood concealing his face.
In his hand was a scroll rolled up and sealed.
"Do you have it?"
William questioned, fixing his gaze on the man.
"It depends. Do you have 300 golden capa coins?"
The mysterious man smiles, showing off his brown-stained teeth, which glowed under the flicker of the fire lamps.
Williams brings out a bag of coins and throws it at him, and the man catches it effortlessly.
"Here is the blueprint of how the battle was strategized."
The man says, handing over the scroll in his hand to William.
"Who is this man?"
Ragaleon seemed to be lost, yet he was the one leading his men.
"What you are seeing…"
William started off while waving the scroll in the air.
"It is the blueprint of how Kyron plans to annihilate us."
He finishes off.
"You haven't answered my question."
"He is a spy."
William said, and Ragaleon shot him a dangerous glare.
"If you want to beat the master, you have to be better than the master, brother.
This was how Kyron destroyed Nehoviah, by sending a spy that worked inside to infiltrate and get him details."
William said, flagging down from his horse.
"There is a woman Kyron brought to his kingdom, and that woman seeks revenge for the death of her husband and children, whom she lost in the war that overtook Nehoviah."
William paused…
"She chose to join hands with us to bring ruin upon Galvestone only if we give her our word that a sword will not strike her skin when we invade.
"I wasn't told about this…why?"
Ragaleon questioned snatching the scroll away from William.
"Because you know better than to cut corners, you are a man of integrity.
"And yet you chose to make me seem otherwise."
Ragaleon growled, his eyes scanning the blueprint.
"Kyron is a master of games, brother.
He knows we are coming; that is why he cleared a new path in the east of the forest. To confuse us and make us lose our way.
We are not going through the right route."
William added boldly.
Ragaleon remained silent for a while.
"The lady—what is her name?"
He asks, raising his gaze from the scroll.
William smiled knowingly. He searched through his skull for the answer to the question, and then it finally clicked.
"Her name is Lady Lydia."