Chapter 56
Aedlin
Before Dother’s Death
The more Aedlin stared, the more the ink blurred, words twisting together on the parchment until they became indecipherable splotches.
She blinked, wincing against the gritty feeling festering in her eyes.
Her stomach twisting. Bile churning in her belly.
Picking at the wax seal’s remnants, Aedlin bit her lip until the metallic taste of blood flooded her mouth.
The sting kept her from screaming. From marching to Dother’s rooms, letter in hand, demanding he explain himself.
There was no use, his guards would stop her before she made it to his damned door.
Tapping her finger on her desk’s polished surface, she forced herself to read the letter once more, praying to the Gods this time it said something different.
Gracious Queen Aedlin Althenis-Diera,
It is with great dismay we respond to Your Majesty’s missives with no information regarding a Philip Trenton of Berwick. We carefully reviewed our ports’ official manifests and found no record of such a person arriving on the mainland. Should that change, we shall notify you promptly.
May the Gods bless Berwick with continued good fortune,
Rian Holdrith, Royal Advisor to His Royal Majesty Aidan de Tierah of Eldenna
The sting of her teeth was no longer enough—Aedlin shrieked, slamming her fist on her desk and snapping a quill in half. The shaft pierced her skin, and Aedlin jerked as pain bloomed, knocking her ink pot over.
“Damn the Gods, and damn Dother,” she spat, watching black ink pool, drops of blood trickling from her hand and joining the mess.
Aedlin plucked the quill from her palm and tossed it onto the letter, droplets of blood splattering the parchment. She’d have to burn it. If Dother saw...
What had he done?
“Damn me most of all for giving him my crown,” she muttered.
The memory of Kalyan’s voice flooded her mind, its gentle cadence soothing and breaking her heart all at once. I would set my soul aflame before I’d allow you to be damned, my love.
Aedlin’s eyes burned but she blinked away the tears before they could fall. “Your soul has already left me, Kal.”
Her lower lip quivered as she touched the small bump protruding from her stomach, wishing Kalyan’s soft hands were there to encompass her own.
How different things had been when it was Mora who grew in her belly, as restless in the womb as she was in life, determined to create her own path.
Though Aedlin had attempted to guide her to her destiny on the throne, she and Kalyan admired their daughter’s conviction.
“I can’t find her,” she whispered, imagining Kalyan was there.
Listening. Those soft brown eyes healing her before he uttered a single word. “Our daughter is gone.”
The words barely formed—her throat tightened, the squeezing feeling in her chest nearly bringing her to her knees.
She looked out the window, eyes grazing over Moldenna’s dark roofs until they found the horizon. Philip never made it to Eldenna—he’d disappeared without a trace, something all too familiar. What if Dother lied? What if his insistence they send Philip away was a cover for some sinister plan?
What if...
“What if he took her, Kal?”
Kalyan didn’t answer. He didn’t need to—Aedlin knew exactly what he’d say.
Her fingers curled, soft wool catching on her nails while her nightdress bunched in her grip, the growing babe another piece of power for a king who usurped her throne. Who may have hidden Mora away.
Kalyan would advise that Aedlin take her power back and demand answers, and she knew exactly how to do it.
While the queen waited for the sun to tear the moon from the sky and reclaim its place in the heavens, she lay in bed, staring at the intricate flowers stitched into Mora’s lace canopy, Kalyan’s sweater clutched tightly in her arms. She’d considered her options and come to an unfortunate conclusion—Aedlin intended to commit treason, an act punishable by death, and there was no way she could do this alone.
The waiting was agony, minutes slipping to the ether at a sluggish pace. When the first trickles of dawn crept through her window, an orange glow slowly consuming the darkness and banishing the stars, she called for Rosemary, the one person she could trust, unable to wait another moment.
Her breaths came too quickly, sour invading her tongue while her stomach churned. The one thing keeping her sanity from cracking was the feeling of the plush carpet beneath her feet while she paced back and forth across her bedroom. Thinking. Praying. Burning with fury.
Had Dother done something to Mora? To Philip?
What a fool Aedlin had been, so eager to avoid the threat of the gallows she’d placed her crown on a monster’s head.
Her nostrils flared, hands shaking while she marched to her writing desk and snatched up the ink pot, strings of sticky black ink hanging from the glass.
Aedlin hurled it into the fireplace, the small container crumbling when it hit stone, tiny, glittering shards raining down into the fire.
Gleaming among the same flames that had consumed Eldenna’s letter earlier that evening.
“Next, we destroy a king,” she muttered under her breath, wishing she had a speck of Mora’s fire in her blood.
A knock sounded at the door and Aedlin flinched.
“It’s Rosemary, Your Majesty,” the young lady called.
The furious flutter of her heart pounded beneath her palm, but Aedlin schooled her expression. “Come in.”
Hinges creaked as Rosemary opened the door and slipped in, her light brown hair tucked away in a perfect bun, blush dusted on her fair cheeks. How she’d readied herself so quickly, Aedlin had no idea. Fanning out her soft pink dress, Rosemary curtsied, gaze dropping to the floor. “You called?”
“Indeed.” Aedlin took a breath, offering a quick prayer to the Gods this wasn’t a mistake.
Mora always trusted Rosemary, and the lady-in-waiting had been discreet—too discreet—keeping Mora’s escapades in Moldenna to herself.
May she offer Aedlin the same. “I’ve an important matter to discuss, but first I need you to promise discretion. ”
Rosemary’s brows bunched. Without looking back, she reached for the silver knob on the queen’s bedroom door and pushed it closed. “Of course. Nothing you say leaves this room.”
With the dip of her chin, Aedlin turned and walked to her bed, sweeping her hands down her nightdress before she took a seat. “Nothing I say leaves this room,” Aedlin repeated, white, silky sheets wrinkling beneath her clammy palms.
“What do you need, Your Majesty?”
A burning amber gaze settled on Rosemary’s face. “I think he did something to Philip... and Mora.”
Rosemary let out a soft gasp. “The king?”
“Yes.” Aedlin’s throat bobbed. “I received word from Eldenna; Philip never arrived on their shores... He’s missing, like Mora, and it was Dother who sent him away.
I know in my heart he has something to do with this.
With both of them.” Without thought, she rested her palm on her stomach, fingers curling until her nails bit into flesh.
The pain a boon. It anchored her to the anger festering in her blood, fueling her desire to walk the path she’d planned.
“Some of the King’s Guards are beginning to obey his word over mine, and the Royal Council sees him as their true ruler.
If I do not act quickly, if this heir is born and my usefulness to them expires, I may lose my chance.
They may get rid of me next, and Mora will truly be lost to us. ”
Tears lined Rosemary’s eyes. “Do you think Mora’s... Do you think he hurt her?”
Aedlin’s heart squeezed. “I don’t know.”
“What would you have me do?”
The queen’s eyes shot to her bedroom door. “Where were the guards when you arrived?”
“Ezra was the one to fetch me. He remained by your door after I entered your chambers.”
That sweet, old man. He’d been loyal to her and Kalyan for years, but still Aedlin did not wish for him to hear what she said next. Her voice dropped to a whisper. “Do you know of an herb or a tea that cures someone of their pregnancy?”
“Gods save me.” The lady-in-waiting paled. “May I sit?”
Aedlin nodded, her gaze locked on her hands, clasped in her lap, until Rosemary sat in Kalyan’s lounge chair.
But she swallowed her objection and forced herself to take a slow, deep breath.
At least the lady sat on the edge of the seat, barely sinking into the plush, gray cushion, as if she understood it was best not to disturb Aedlin’s one remaining piece of her late husband.
The queen herself rarely used it, leaving Kalyan’s things mostly untouched since his passing—the side table was crowded with his books, Mora’s delicate silver crown resting atop the pile. A shrine to all Aedlin had lost.
That would change soon. If Mora was alive, out there somewhere, waiting to be found, Aedlin would bring her home. No matter the cost.
Rosemary clasped her shaking hands, but it did nothing to hide the tremors. “They’ll kill me if they find out.”
They would. It was impossible to deny the consequences—to kill a royal heir was treason and Rosemary would pay dearly for her involvement, while the queen would remain unharmed until the child was born.
A ridiculous notion—no one should decide what someone did with their body, no matter their station or the child’s inheritance.
Dother’s child was little more than a seedling in her womb, ready to be plucked from its soil before it developed deep roots, but the Royal Council, the king, and countless others among the people would see its value as more than the living, breathing woman in front of them.
They had to be cautious. Make it look like the lifeline was cut by the Fates and not Aedlin’s hand.
“I will make sure that never happens,” Aedlin promised, hoping her words held true. That the two of them could be discreet, and the king would believe this was a miscarriage.
Rosemary said nothing, her clasped fingers twisting in her skirt.
“I’m sorry, Rosemary,” Aedlin offered, running her hands through her loose, silken hair, pushing soft, light brown strands away from her forehead.
“Truly I am.” She sighed, unable to remain stoic, her mask slipping too readily.
“I would do this on my own if I could, but they’d notice if I left the castle and purchased such a thing.
I don’t want to consider what Dother might do if he discovers my plan.
What might happen to Mora if I lose what little power I have left and never find her. ”
Rosemary nodded solemnly. “I know someone in Moldenna.”
“Good.” The queen let out a breath, dropping her hand from her stomach, the skin throbbing beneath.
“Be cautious,” she warned, staring at Rosemary’s stark white knuckles.
Could she handle this? Had Aedlin made a mistake?
“Calm yourself, however you must. Visit the market and purchase a few things to not appear suspicious, and make sure you aren’t followed. ”
Rosemary bit her lip, a distant look in her eyes. “What happens after I bring the herbs?”
Lifting her chin and squaring her shoulders, ever the queen she’d been raised to be, Aedlin smiled, the first shreds of hope she’d felt in eons blooming in her chest. “First, we destroy Dother’s heir, and then we discover what he’s done with my daughter.”