The great hall was heavy with silence. Torches burned along the walls, throwing long, restless shadows across the faces of the lords. At the far end of the chamber stood Aldric, his cloak still stained faintly with Aurora's blood. His eyes were hard, fixed on the three women and soldiers from the hunt, kneeling in chains before him. They had been tortured.
Selene's breath came fast, her eyes darting from the lords to her father, General Alric, who sat stiffly with shame written on his face. Evelyn's hands trembled as she clutched the cold links of her chains, and Virelda kept her head lowered, lips pressed tight, tears glistening against her cheeks.
"Speak," Aldric's voice rang through the chamber, deep and steady, though his anger simmered beneath every word. "Tell me everything."
One of the soldiers looked up, his voice faltering. "Your Majesty, we… we obeyed Queen Selene only because we were threatened. She said our families would pay if we did not."
A murmur rippled through the council. General Alric's fists tightened, but he did not speak.
Another soldier bowed his head. "She ordered us to follow her orders, she….." he paused "We deserved to be punished Your Majesty."
Selene's face drained of color. She shook her head, forcing words through trembling lips. "They lie! Father, you must believe me. I—I never—"
But her father's eyes remained cold, his jaw set in bitter disappointment.
Aldric turned then, his gaze falling on Evelyn. She flinched beneath it, remembering his warning long ago.
"I told you once," he said, his voice low, heavy with restrained fury. "If ever I found your heart carried deceit, if ever you had another intention.… I would not be merciful." He leaned forward, his voice a whip. "Now you will see my wrath."
Evelyn's knees buckled, her words collapsing into desperate sobs.
Selene tried to shout over her, still pleading with her father. But Aldric raised a hand.
"Enough. All of you." His voice thundered across the chamber. "Return them to the dungeons. Let them wait for judgment."
The chains rattled as they were all dragged away. Selene screamed her innocence, Evelyn wept, and Virelda walked silently, tears streaming as she accepted the weight of her fate.
The dungeon swallowed them whole. Damp air pressed against the skin, the stench of mildew thick in the lungs. Torches burned weakly, their flames small and trembling.
Evelyn and Selene were thrown into cells beside one another, while Virelda was locked in the one opposite. The iron doors slammed shut, their echoes rolling through the hollow chamber.
For a moment, there was only silence. Then Selene's voice broke it, sharp and venomous.
"This is your fault, Evelyn. You dragged me into this madness!"
Evelyn spun on her, gripping the bars. "You wanted her gone as much as I did! Do not turn on me now!"
"You fool….." Selene yelled.
"You threatened the soldiers with their families!" Evelyn spat back. "What kind of fool does that? How long could you possibly keep it hidden?"
The two women clawed at their bars, their voices rising, hatred spilling into every word.
Across from them, Virelda sat in silence, her back against the wall, knees pulled to her chest. She did not move, did not speak. Only a quiet tear slipped down her cheek. Her gaze seemed lost in another world, her lips moving in a silent prayer.
The quarrel shattered into silence when heavy footsteps echoed down the stone steps.
General Alric appeared, his armor catching the torchlight, his face carved in stone. He stopped in front of Selene's cell.
Selene gripped the bars, her voice breaking. "Father—please! You cannot leave me here. I am your daughter. You must help me. Get me out!"
But her father did not move closer. His voice came steady, low, yet cut sharper than any blade.
"I warned you, Selene. All your life you have been reckless, too quick to anger, too proud, too cunning. And now, you have brought this upon yourself."
Tears streamed down her face as she shook her head wildly. "No! I only wanted what was best for the throne—for you! For Velmora!"
His eyes burned with a sorrow he could not hide. "No. You did it for yourself." His voice trembled now, his control slipping. "You are a murderer, Selene. And you will serve your punishment."
Her sobs filled the cell. She clung to the bars, calling his name, but he turned away. His cloak swept the stones as he walked, each step echoing his judgment. Before he reached the stairs, his voice carried one last time.
"You are no daughter of mine tonight."
The door above closed with a hollow slam.
Evelyn sank to the floor, her sobs soft and broken. Selene pressed her forehead to the cold iron, wailing for her father. Virelda did not move. She only whispered under her breath, so faint it barely reached the others.
"It is our sin….and we will pay for it."
And the dungeon echoed with despair, its shadows dancing like specters on the walls.
-
Night presses close around the royal chambers, the air thick with steam and crushed herbs. Lanterns hiss. Basins fill and empty. The royal physician's hands move without hesitation—washing, stitching, packing wounds with poultice dark as pine sap.
Aurora lies pale against the pillows, hair matted with sweat and blood. Her breathing is shallow, uneven. Ava is at her side, one hand locked around Aurora's wrist as if anchoring her to the world.
"More hot cloths," the physician says, voice low but steady. "Keep them coming."
Lira, Faye and the others scramble, eyes red, sleeves rolled, moving like they have rehearsed this nightmare.
Commander Kael stands at the door, jaw tight, not daring to blink. Aldric hovers an arm's length from the bed.
The physician leans, listens, presses, frowns. He breaks the shaft of a small cautery, breathes out, and seals a bleeding line along her side. Aurora jolts, a breath tearing through her, then falls back into the fog.
Aldric's voice is a rasp. "Tell me what to do."
"Hold her steady, Your Majesty," the physician answers. "And keep speaking to her. Let her hear you."
Aldric bent close, his forehead near hers. "Aurora," he murmured, his voice rough with fear, "I am here. I have you. Do not leave me."
Minutes unspool like hours. The last stitch is set. The last bandage tied. The physician sags back, scrubs his hands in a bowl until the water runs pink, then clear. He dries them slowly, gathering himself. No one breathes.
He turns first to Ava. "Your Grace… Queen Aurora will live."
Ava's head bows; a sound breaks out of her, half prayer, half sob.
Her maids shrieked with joy, tears streaming down their faces in relief.
Aldric closes his eyes, just for a heartbeat, and something inside him unclenches.
The physician's gaze drops. "But…" He swallows. "The child did not survive the injury. I am… I am sorry."
Silence slams the chamber.
Ava goes rigid, fingers digging into the quilt. "No," she whispers, as if the word might bargain with fate. "No, no—"
Faye crumpled to her knees where she stood, tears spilling freely. Lira staggered back, struck the table, and steadied herself with both hands, her shoulders shaking. The others burst into tears.
Kael looks away, jaw locked so hard a muscle jumps.
Aldric does not move at first. Then he reaches for the bedpost again like a man finding a wall in the dark. His voice is scraped raw. "You are certain."
"I checked twice," the physician said softly. "There was too much damage. There is nothing anyone could have done."
Ava bends over Aurora's hand, pressing it to her cheek. "Aurora," she breathes, the words splintering.
On the bed, Aurora stirs—caught in the thin place between sleep and waking. Her lashes tremble. She swallows, winces, forces her eyes open. They find Aldric first.
"Aldric…?" Her voice is nothing but air.
He is there instantly, a hand to her hair, his other threading through her fingers. "I am here."
Her brow furrows, memory returning in jagged shards—the trees, the cold, the blows. Her free hand drifts, faltering, to her bandaged abdomen. She does not ask the question. She does not need to. The chamber answers anyway.
Ava's face crumples. "Aurora, the…" She cannot finish.
Aurora's eyes shine, then flood. A sound leaves her—small, raw, almost a child's—and she turns her face into Aldric's palm as if to hide from the world.
"I am so sorry ," the physician whispers, helpless before a grief his craft cannot mend.
Lira is at the bedside in an instant, catching Aurora's arm with both hands. "My lady, forgive us—if we had begged you harder not to go—"
"Do not," Aurora breathed, barely above a whisper. "Do not dare blame yourselves."
Aldric holds steady, though his voice shakes. "You are alive. Do you hear me? You are alive. I will bear the rest."
The physician clears his throat gently. "Her Majesty will drift in and out for a while. Fever is likely. Keep the compresses warm. No drafts, no strain, no visitors beyond you, Your Majesty and Her Grace tonight. I will brew a calmer for the pain and a tonic for blood."
Ava wipes her face with the back of her hand and straightens.
"Elyna," she called hoarsely to her maid at the door, "stoke the braziers. Fresh linens. And fetch warm water, now."
"Yes, Your Grace," Elyna says, already moving.
Lira, Faye and few of her maids fold closer, anchoring the quiet with small, practical mercies—smoothing a pillow, tucking the quilts, changing the cool cloth on Aurora's brow. Their whispers are gentle as rain.
Aldric bows his head until his forehead touches Aurora's. "Forgive me," he murmurs into the space between them. "I should have kept you from the hunt. I should have—"
"Enough," she breathes, eyes closing again. "Do not carry it."
Ava lays her hand over both of theirs. "Rest now," she says, voice steadying for the sake of the girl in the bed. "Rest and heal. We will keep you safe."
The physician dims the nearest lantern.