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Lucina
The midday sun beat down mercilessly, turning the palace courtyard into a shimmering haze of gold. I squinted against the glare, feeling the heat prick at my skin, but my eyes never left him. Hakan shifted beside me, the subtle gleam of sweat tracing paths along the dark tattoos that etched his muscular chest. He seemed almost carved from shadow and fire, the power he radiated demanding attention even in this quiet moment.
Towering palm fronds swayed lazily in the distant breeze, framing the gilded domes of the city, their opulence a stark contrast to the tension knotting my stomach.
"You want to invite the leader of the Cameru Faith here?" His voice was low, skeptical, each word deliberate.
I swallowed, feeling my determination tighten around me like armor. "I… I really need their sacred artifact," I admitted, my mind flashing to the distant, unfamiliar buildings of the Tayar Kingdom, steeped in legend and secrecy.
Hakan's brows furrowed, deep-set eyes shadowed with doubt. "I don't think their leader will lend us their sacred artifact. From their perspective, the Tayar Kingdom is no different than the Land of the Heathens. And… I've heard the leader is… extremely uptight." His voice trailed, the concern in it unspoken but palpable.
I squared my shoulders, refusing to let the seed of fear take root. "What if I told them about my healing power?" I asked, forcing confidence into my tone. "I am a Brionian. I can heal… won't that interest their leader?"
Hakan's gaze returned to me, intensity tempered with consideration. "It could… be an opportunity for them to expand their religion here as well," he said carefully.
"That's why—!" My voice rose, fueled by hope, but a pair of strong, calloused hands gently clasped mine, stopping me mid-sentence.
"Lucina," he murmured, his voice dropping to a near whisper. He drew me closer, the soft clink of his jewelry against my chest a subtle counterpoint to the weight of his words. "For a long time… outsiders have labeled us savages. Even if we welcome the Cameru Faith, there's no guarantee they'll accept us."
His embrace was firm yet protective, his presence a shield against my growing panic. "If they were favorably inclined, they would have already tried to help," he continued, each word a tether grounding me. "Try to calm down. What's got you so worked up?"
The dam of composure broke. Tears welled, slipping silently down my cheeks, and a drop of sweat—or was it something more?—slid from my chin.
"I'm… worried that you might die," I choked out. The fear had been a constant, cold knot in my stomach, growing sharper each day. "If the Dragon Slayers manage to pierce your heart with a black arrow… then…" The thought was unbearable.
His expression softened, wariness melting into a deep, consuming love.
"All right."
He cupped my face gently, brushing away a tear with his thumb. "I can't guarantee success," he said, his voice calm but resolute, "but I'll try contacting them."
"Really?" Relief surged through me, a tide washing away some of the dread.
"I'll write a letter to their leader myself," he added, his decision firm and unhesitating.
The knot of fear loosened slightly, but the storm was far from over. My heart pounded with both dread and hope, knowing the next steps would determine everything.
---
I was absorbed in writing the letter, the quill scratching urgently against the parchment as my thoughts raced. Behind me, Hakan's large, warm body pressed gently against my back, a steady, comforting presence amidst the flutter of anxiety and anticipation.
"I still can't believe you're carrying our child in that tiny body of yours," he mused, his voice low and filled with wonder. "Would you rather have a son or a daughter?"
I paused mid-stroke, turning my head to meet his gaze. "Hmm… What about you, Hakan?"
"Personally," he admitted, a soft, genuine smile brushing his lips, "I'd like a daughter. Draconian women grow up receiving special treatment." He leaned closer, his tone lighter but proud. "It's quite rare for a girl to be born, since they can give birth to Draconian children."
I laughed softly, the sound mingling with the faint rustle of parchment. "You're absolutely right, haha!" I said, touched by the pride he felt in his people's customs.
He nudged gently. "What about you, Lucina?"
"I… don't mind whether it's a boy or a girl," I confessed, instinctively resting my hand on my belly. "I just want them to be healthy."
Hakan shifted, his embrace tightening as he pulled me closer. "…Anyway, you gain the legal right to become Queen once you give birth to a Draconian child," he said, his voice both tender and weighty with significance.
Before I could savor the moment, a sharp KNOCK KNOCK echoed from the chamber doors.
"Your Majesty, Giaret is here to see you," an attendant announced.
Hakan's jaw tightened instantly. "Giaret?" His voice dropped into a dangerous rumble. "I bet she's come to make excuses about her maid. Send her away—"
I gently turned in his embrace, placing a reassuring hand on his chest. "It's okay, Hakan," I said softly, forcing a calm smile. "She must have something important if she came looking for you at this hour."
He exhaled heavily, the muscle in his shoulder twitching as he weighed the political annoyance against my request. "…Send her in."
The heavy, ornate door clicked open, and Giaret stepped in, her dark, muted gown a stark contrast to the gilded chamber. She bowed low immediately, her posture precise.
"I apologize for visiting you so late at night, Your Majesty," she said, her voice respectful but tinged with tension. I flinched slightly at the abrupt shift in atmosphere her presence brought.
Giaret's eyes immediately found mine as she lowered into a respectful bow. "I did not know Lucina was here as well. I hope I'm not disturbing either of you," she said.
I murmured a tentative, "I—It's fine…" keeping my composure while internally bracing myself. Why is she suddenly being so polite? I wondered.
Hakan's arm remained firmly around my waist as he regarded Giaret with cold, measured eyes. "Giaret, you've learned the palace rules so you should already know this…" His tone was calm but sharp. "But if Lucina bears my child, you need to be more respectful toward her."
I felt a subtle surge of satisfaction as Giaret's hands clenched, a silent struggle barely contained beneath her deferential mask. Her tone remained polite, though each word was measured.
"Yes, Your Majesty," she replied. "But… what I'm about to say is highly confidential, so would it be okay if Lucina left for a moment?" Her eyes flicked to me, feigning concern.
I felt a brief flicker of disappointment, expecting dismissal.
"You don't need to do that, Lucina," Hakan said firmly, pulling me closer. Then, turning to Giaret, he added, "You're going to become the Queen of the Tayar Tribe soon, so there's nothing you can't be privy to."
Giaret's eyes narrowed slightly, though her practiced smile remained smooth. "I only suggested that because I was concerned that Lucina might be shocked by this news," she admitted. "But I understand."
She paused, inhaling deeply, before delivering her revelation. "I heard that one of my maids… gave Your Majesty a candle imbued with a wicked black magic spell not too long ago." Her gaze fixed on Hakan, brow furrowed. "There's something that has been on my mind ever since I heard that."
"And what might that be?" Hakan asked, jaw tight, eyes sharp.
"I recalled that the maid in question had been seeing Gillai quite often," Giaret explained, letting the name linger in the tense air.
I gasped, breath catching in my throat. Gillai!
Hakan's expression darkened, confusion twisting into barely-contained fury. "Are you saying he gave that candle to her?"
Giaret nodded slowly. "I find it hard to believe as well, but that's how it appears."
The world seemed to drop away beneath me. My eyes widened in shock. Gillai? The man who has been nothing but kind and supportive…?
Hakan's expression remained unreadable, a storm of disbelief and rising rage contained behind a cold mask.
The revelation sent a chill through my veins. That thought… it couldn't be true. Could it?
"Hurry up and tell me the purpose of your visit," Hakan commanded, his voice sharp, gaze unyielding.
"Yes, Your Majesty," Giaret replied, dipping her head again, eyes flicking toward me with calculated intent.
The room felt suffocating. Hakan's arm instinctively tightened around me, pressing me closer as tension coiled like a spring.
"Giaret, you've learned the palace rules so you should already know this…" he reminded her, his tone a clear warning. "But if Lucina bears my child, you need to be more respectful toward her."
I noticed the tiny, involuntary movements of Giaret's clenched hands, her silent fury barely concealed. She truly thought she could undermine me…
"I understand, Your Majesty," she conceded, stiff and measured. "I only suggested that because I was concerned Lucina might be shocked by this news."
Then came the carefully rehearsed confession. "I heard that one of my maids… gave Your Majesty a candle imbued with a wicked black magic spell not too long ago." She looked at Hakan, letting the weight of her words sink in. "There's something that has been on my mind ever since I heard that. And what might that be?"
"I recalled that the maid in question had been seeing Gillai quite often," Giaret explained, letting the implication hang heavy in the air.
Hakan's eyebrows furrowed, his face darkening. "Are you saying he gave that candle to her?"
"I find it hard to believe as well," she said slowly, shaking her head, "but that's how it appears."
The room seemed to tilt. My breath hitched, denial screaming inside me. Gillai? My kind, trusted friend? The one who always supported me?
Hakan remained silent, eyes fixed on the floor, his posture radiating furious disbelief. My heart thudded painfully in my chest. Could Gillai really be the one behind the black magic?
The question loomed like a dark shadow, swallowing any sense of composure I had left.