Chapter 16 #2
On a crisp spring morning, Anna was born.
The healer said it might be because I ran away on a rainy night, which led to the premature birth of my child, and my body, still recovering from years of hardship, made the birth grueling.
The pain was unlike anything I’d known, a relentless force that felt as if it were tearing me apart from the inside.
Each contraction was a wave crashing over me, threatening to drown me in its intensity.
I gripped the bedsheets, my knuckles white, my teeth clenched, sweat blurring my vision as I fought to breathe through the agony.
In my mind, I repeated a single mantra: Hold on, for my child.
With one final, excruciating push, I heard her cry—clear and strong, a sound that pierced through the pain like sunlight through storm clouds.
The pain vanished, replaced by an overwhelming love as the midwife placed the warm, tiny bundle in my arms. She was so small, so perfect, her wrinkled face flushed with life, her tiny hands flailing as if greeting the world with fearless curiosity.
“Anna… my Anna,” I whispered, stroking her soft hair, tears streaming down my face—tears of joy, the happiest I’d ever shed, washing away the pain of the past.
My daughter was here, in my arms, and nothing else mattered.
Joy and pain intertwined in that moment. Anna was healthy, her cries strong, but her eyes—Perock’s amber eyes—were a stark reminder of the past I couldn’t escape, the only mark he’d left on my life. They were a mirror of his, a connection I could neither deny nor embrace.
For five years, under my mother’s guidance, I learned to be an heir, transforming from an illiterate slave who’d known only servitude to a poised princess capable of navigating the complexities of courtly affairs.
The journey was arduous, each lesson a battle against my own insecurities, but for Anna and for Fellinger, I persevered, driven by a fierce determination to give my daughter a future worthy of her.
My mother never pressed me about Anna’s father, though I knew she suspected.
Amber eyes were rare, a trait unique to Perock’s bloodline, and Anna’s were unmistakable.
“Mom? What are you thinking about?” Anna’s voice pulled me back to the present, her curious eyes watching me from across the room. She stood in her nightgown, her hair slightly mussed, her expression bright with the innocence only a child could carry.
“Nothing, sweetheart,” I said, forcing a smile to hide the turmoil within. “Just thinking about our mission.”
Anna grinned mischievously, a spark of playfulness in her eyes. “Is it about that scary-looking king? I think he likes you.”
My heart skipped a beat, a flush rising to my cheeks. “Why would you say that?” I asked, my voice tighter than I intended.
“I thought about it,” she said matter-of-factly, her small hands clasped in front of her. “His look was different from Grandmother’s. Like in the storybooks, when someone finds their long-lost love.”
I nearly choked, my breath catching as I turned to fuss with a tea tray on the table, hiding my panic. “Anna, where did you hear such things?” I asked, my voice strained.
“From the maids,” she said with an innocent shrug, her eyes wide and guileless. “They’re always talking about knights and princesses, about love and reunions.”
I took a deep breath, steadying myself, and decided to change the subject. “Time for bed, little one. Tomorrow will be busy.”
After tucking Anna in, her small form nestled under the blankets, I stepped onto the balcony, letting the cool night breeze soothe my flushed cheeks. The city’s lights sparkled below, a constellation of memories both familiar and foreign, each one tied to the life I’d left behind.
Bringing Anna here was risky, a decision that had weighed heavily on me.
But she was too young to be left behind, too precious to be separated from me.
I wasn’t sure if Perock recognized me as the bride who’d worn Viossi’s face all those years ago.
Five years ago, I’d been a shadow, a stand-in cloaked in deception.
Now, I stood in my true form, my identity reclaimed.
But the bond’s power was undeniable, the electric tremor when our eyes met during the ceremony impossible to ignore.
My wolf had stirred, recognizing him, yearning to answer a call I’d fought to silence.
I returned to Anna’s side, brushing a lock of hair from her face as she slept, her breathing soft and even. No matter what, I’d protect her, shield her from the complications of my past.
The next day, Anna and I strolled through the palace’s small garden, the morning air fresh with the scent of blooming flowers. She skipped ahead, her laughter a bright note in the quiet, when a scent hit me - a faint scent of pine mixed with leather.
My heart lurched, and I turned sharply to find Perock standing at the path’s edge, his presence commanding even in the soft light.
His gaze fell on Anna, and he froze, as if struck by lightning. His pupils contracted, his face a mix of shock and dawning realization as his eyes darted between us, piecing together the impossible truth.
“Impossible…” he whispered, his voice barely audible, trembling with emotion.
Instinctively, I stepped in front of Anna, shielding her with my body, but it was too late. She peeked out from behind me, her amber eyes meeting his, a mirror of his own, their resemblance undeniable.
Perock’s breathing quickened, his fists clenching until his knuckles whitened. He took a step forward, then stopped abruptly, his body trembling with the effort to hold himself back.
“Lilia…” His voice was hoarse, raw with emotion, as if the words were torn from him. “She… she’s…”
I signaled the guards and maids to take Anna away.
She looked confused, her small brow furrowed, but she curtsied politely to Perock before letting the maids lead her down the path.
As her small figure disappeared around the corner, Perock seemed to sag, as if the sight of her had been the only thing holding him upright, his strength drained by the weight of what he’d seen.
When we were alone, the garden silent save for the rustle of leaves, he spoke, his voice thick with disbelief. “She… she’s my daughter, isn’t she?”
I crossed my arms, a defensive shield against the vulnerability his words stirred. “Your Majesty, is there something you need?” I asked, my voice cool and formal.
Pain flickered in his eyes, raw and unguarded, but it was quickly replaced by a steely resolve. “I know who you are,” he said, his words simple but heavy, each one landing like a stone.
Five words, and my carefully constructed world crumbled. I forced myself to stay calm, my voice steady despite the chaos within. “I don’t understand. I’m Princess Lilia of Fellinger. This is my first visit to your kingdom.”
“No,” he said, stepping closer, his eyes burning with that familiar stubbornness, a fire I’d once known so well. “You’re her—the woman I married five years ago, my… fated mate.”
Those last three words sent a jolt through me, electric and overwhelming, my wolf stirring within, yearning to answer his call, to bridge the chasm between us.
I clenched my jaw, fighting it with every ounce of will.
“You’re mistaken,” I said coldly, my voice sharp enough to cut.
“Perhaps you should return to your true queen.”
Mentioning Viossi shifted his expression—a flash of pain, guilt, and anger crossing his face. “She was never my real wife, and you know it. From the moment I felt our bond break five years ago, I knew she wasn’t you.”
“Bond?” I gave a bitter laugh, the sound harsh even to my own ears.
“If there was a bond, why did you hurt me so easily? Why did you choose Sophia over me, time and again, ignoring me as if I were nothing?” The words slipped out before I could stop them, a confession of my identity that I immediately regretted.
My admission hung in the air, a truth I couldn’t take back.
His eyes lit up, a spark of hope igniting within them, and he took another step forward, his voice urgent. “I was a prideful fool, Lilia. I didn’t value what fate gave me until it was gone. For five years, I’ve searched for you, never giving up, haunted by my mistakes.”
“Too late,” I said, stepping back, my voice hard and unyielding. “Whatever was between us ended long ago. We’re just representatives of our kingdoms now—nothing more.”
“And her?” he asked suddenly, his voice thick with emotion, his eyes searching mine. “She’s my daughter, isn’t she?”
My blood ran cold, my heart stuttering in my chest. He’d seen Anna’s eyes, noted the timeline, the resemblance that was impossible to deny. “She’s Princess Anna of Fellinger,” I said firmly, my tone leaving no room for argument. “She has nothing to do with you.”
His face twisted with pain, a raw, unguarded anguish that made my chest ache despite my resolve. “Lilia, don’t lie. The timing, her appearance, her eyes—she’s mine. Anna’s my daughter, isn’t she? She’s about four, and those eyes… they’re mine.”
I couldn’t deny it outright, not when the truth was so plain, but I wouldn’t confirm it either. Anna was my everything, my reason for enduring, and I wouldn’t let anyone—not even her father—disrupt her life without proving himself worthy.
“Why do you care now?” I countered, my eyes narrowing, my voice laced with suspicion. “Because you need to sacrifice your own child to break your curse?”
The word sacrifice hit him like a physical blow, his face paling, his eyes widening in horror.
“You think I’d harm her?” he said, his voice breaking.
“Five years, Lilia—I’ve lived in regret and longing, tormented by what I lost. If Anna’s my daughter, she deserves to know her father, and I deserve to know her, to love her. ”
“Love?” I scoffed, the word bitter on my tongue. “Like you ‘loved’ me? You couldn’t spare me a glance when Sophia was around, fawning over her while I stood in the shadows. You chose her over me during the rogue attack, left me to fend for myself. Why should I trust you with Anna?”
His expression crumpled, raw with guilt, his shoulders sagging under the weight of my words.
“I made terrible mistakes, Lilia,” he said, his voice thick with remorse. “I regret them every day, and I’ve paid for them in ways you can’t imagine. Give me a chance to prove I’ve changed—not for me, but for Anna. She deserves to know her father.”
His sincerity pierced me, stirring a softness I couldn’t afford to indulge.
Anna deserved the truth, yes, but not now, not until I was certain of Perock’s intentions, certain he wasn’t driven by the curse that loomed over him.
I had to protect her, to shield her from a world that could be as cruel as it was beautiful.
“I’m here to sign a treaty,” I said at last, my voice steady and resolute. “Not to settle personal scores. If you want to prove yourself, respect my boundaries and don’t interfere with my mission.”
He looked at me, his eyes a storm of emotions—regret, hope, determination, and something deeper, something that made my wolf ache.
Finally, he nodded, his expression solemn. “I understand. But you should know this, Lilia, I won’t give up. No matter how long it takes, I’ll prove I’m not the same man five years ago.”
As he turned and walked away, his broad shoulders retreating down the garden path, I let myself tremble, the weight of his words crashing over me.
My defenses had nearly crumbled under the intensity of his gaze, the sincerity in his voice, but I’d held firm, rebuilding the walls around my heart just in time.
For Anna, I had to stay strong.