Chapter 22
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
T his particular walk to Queen Laena’s chambers was quite possibly one of the longest that Fallon had ever made. Not because he dreaded going there, but because there was so much more activity than usual. He kept getting stopped by well-wishing courtiers on the return of his brother.
“What a miracle, Your Highness!”
“Your family is blessed, indeed!”
“I look forward to serving you both, sire.”
Finally, he stopped in front of the ornate wooden doors that led to her lair. They were adorned with intricate carvings of twisting vines and thorny roses. He scoffed at the imagery of a beautiful flower that would draw blood from anyone who dared come too close.
This day was so nearly close to perfect. It was better than perfect. He’d spared Annika’s life. He’d embraced the beloved brother he thought was dead all these years. And as much as Talvi got under his skin, he owed the Kallo elf much more than his gratitude.
But learning that his mother had tried yet again to take his daughter away was the last straw.
Too many lines had been crossed for him not to take action.
And if what Novi claimed was true, that Laena had been accompanied by that suspected witch from the Temple of the Chimera…then she was becoming careless about getting caught.
She was also being careless about who might catch her when it finally happened. It was one thing to jeopardize her own freedom…her own life.
But if anyone learned that she was a Kaos witch, those consequences would bring down the House of Blackwood.
Fallon’s hand hovered over the gilded handle, his mind racing. Novi's words haunted him—the witch from the Temple of the Chimera, now in league with his mother? The implications chilled him to his core.
With a deep breath, he pushed the door open, the hinges groaning in protest. The scent of lavender and something more acrid—fear, perhaps?—assaulted his senses.
"Mother, we need to—" Fallon's words died on his lips as he took in the scene before him.
His eyes landed on Elka, who was kneeling amidst a sea of glittering shards. Her auburn hair fell in disarray over her shoulders. The ornate mirror that once dominated the far wall now lay in ruins, its silvery fragments catching the dying light from the window.
"Your Highness!" Elka's voice quavered, her eyes wide with shame. Fresh tears were spilling down her freckled cheeks. “My apologies! I… I didn't expect..."
Fallon's brow furrowed, his analytical mind cataloging every detail. "Where is the Queen?"
Elka's hands shook as she attempted to gather the bigger pieces of broken glass and put them in a large wooden bowl. "She... she left, sire. Only moments ago."
“What happened?” Fallon stepped closer, his shadow enveloping the young woman.
She flinched, and the wooden bowl slipped from her grasp, landing on the floor with a soft crunch. She looked up, fear etched into her freckled face, but said nothing.
Fallon crossed to her in two long strides before crouching to meet her averted gaze. “Tell me what happened. If you accidentally broke the mirror, I’ll ensure that you aren’t punished for it.”
Elka’s eyes darted around the room, searching for unseen threats. Her lips trembled as if words might break her fragile composure. Her mouth opened, but no sound emerged. Instead, she shook her head violently, her entire frame quaking.
“Tell me,” Fallon's tone softened just enough to coax her. A single tear slid down her cheek, mingling with a fine cut from the mirror's shards. Her silence screamed louder than any confession. He knew terror when he saw it, and this girl’s fear was so palpable that it was almost suffocating.
She shook her head, mute with trauma, hands trembling as she resumed gathering the broken mirror pieces. Fallon placed a gentle hand on her shoulder, feeling her flinch beneath his touch. "Elka, you can trust me.” He gestured to the mess at their feet, his voice low and controlled. “Tell me what happened."
Her eyes darted to the door, then back to his face. When she spoke, it was barely above a whisper. "I... I can't, Your Highness. Please... she'll?—"
"She?" Fallon's mind raced as his patience thinned. Suspicion began gnawing at his insides. “Who do you mean? My mother? Or someone else?"
Elka's silence spoke volumes.
The girl wanted to tell him, but had been compelled not to. She’d already been compelled by Mauricio, so the fact that someone else was controlling her mind immediately waved a red flag at Fallon.
Anger flared within his blood, but he reined it in, mindful of the fragility before him. Elka’s fear was real. It was too raw, too deep. He needed answers, but he knew that brute force would yield none.
Not when she was in a state like this.
He took her chin into his hand, forcing her to meet his piercing obsidian eyes. He would have to use all his skill to convince her to reveal her thoughts. It was the only way to override the multiple demonborn spells she was under.
"Who did this?" Fallon's words crept into the depths of her mind, unveiling a darkness that was unnatural to see in such a naturally cheerful girl.
The handmaid's shoulders slumped in welcome defeat. “Her name is Alloria. She has eyes like... like frozen fire. She was angry with Her Majesty. They had an argument, and Alloria shattered the mirror before she left. She claimed that Queen Laena wouldn’t be needing it anymore.”
Fallon sighed, his black eyes scanning the room for more information, even the smallest of clues. The bed was made. Other than a half empty bottle of wine on the writing desk, and the empty glass beside it, everything was tidy.
The shattered mirror seemed to mock him from the floor, each fragment reflecting a piece of a larger, more sinister puzzle. The pieces swirled in his mind, not quite forming a complete picture, but the emerging image filled him with deep foreboding.
“What were they arguing about?”
"They were arguing about..." Elka whispered, her voice barely audible, “about Lucia.”
Fallon's heart clenched. His precious daughter, barely a week old and already at the center of some nefarious plot. He clenched his fists, willing the flames that threatened to erupt from his skin to subside.
"What did they say about her?" He struggled to keep his voice level, to not betray the maelstrom of emotions threatening to overwhelm him.
Elka shook her head, tears spilling down her cheeks. "I don't know, Your Highness. They spoke in a language I don’t understand.”
Elka, listen to me carefully,” he said, his voice soft but steely as he slipped back into her mind, "I need you to forget the conversation we’ve just had. Alloria and my mother cannot know that you spoke to me. It’s for your own safety. Do you understand?"
The maid nodded, relief flooding her features.
Suddenly, her face drained of color.
Through the door, two sets of footsteps echoed down the hall, growing louder with each step. Fallon tensed as they came closer, each one like a ticking clock counting down to some inevitable doom.
“She mustn’t catch me speaking with you, Your Highness!” Elka hissed, her voice trembling, eyes wide with terror. “You must hide! Quick! Under the bed!”
"Don’t be ridiculous,” Fallon scoffed. He arched an eyebrow, his lips curling in disgust. "I am a Sacred Son of Sinaryos. I do not cower like a?—"
“Please! I beg you!” Elka grabbed his arm so hard that if it weren’t for his jacket, her nails would’ve dug into his skin until they drew blood. "Alloria will kill me if she finds us together!"
Her desperation was palpable, fingers shaking as they clung to him.
Fallon’s instincts warred within him. His lifetime of training loathed the idea of hiding like a coward instead of defending the girl—yet his pragmatism recognized the necessity. The fear in Elka's tear-streaked face made the decision for him.
“Please, sire! She’ll torture me just like all the other ones!”
The girl was starting to hyperventilate.
Realizing that he hadn’t brought a weapon, Fallon glanced at the ornate bed, its heavy silk curtains cascading to the floor. The angry footsteps were nearly at the threshold.
"Damn it all," he hissed before dropping to his knees and crawling beneath the bed. The opulent frame barely accommodated his broad, muscular build. Dust swirled around him as the space became a dark, suffocating cocoon.
Two pairs of feet entered the room—one in delicate silk slippers, the other in boots that seemed to radiate an unnatural chill.
"...absolutely unacceptable!” A woman's harsh voice, unfamiliar and imperious, cut through the room.
Alloria.
From his hiding spot, Fallon could barely see more than the hem of his mother's gown and the intimidating boots of her companion. But their voices carried clearly in the quiet room.
“First, the chimeras, and now this ? I grow tired of your excuses, Laena!”
Laena's strained reply was as brittle as the shattered mirror on the floor.
“How was I to know that a red-headed bard would be the one to set them loose?”
“You’d better have plans for another chimera hunt as quickly as possible,” Alloria snapped. “And increase the harvest from one egg to at least a dozen.”
“A dozen?”
“Yes! They were the biggest source of our power, and now they’re all gone—on your watch!”
“Perhaps if the Prioress had treated them well, they would have stayed,” Laena shot back, although her voice wavered. “It’s no wonder they killed her, given the stories I’ve heard. You can’t blame me for what she did to them!”
“You could have dismissed her at any time,” Alloria argued. “You are the Queen.”
“It’s not exactly easy to find a worthy candidate who understands the…the nature of the position.”
“The old ways have always said that significant magic requires significant raw materials. If you can’t find a new prioress to help me sacrifice the new chimeras, then find one who’s willing to look the other way. You can add it to the list of everything else you owe me.”
Acutely aware of how precarious his position was, Fallon slowed down his breathing, staying as quiet as possible. What he was hearing was almost more than he could imagine. His kingdom’s sacred chimeras were being abused and butchered for their power?
How could he have been involved so closely with the tradition of claiming their eggs, and not know that this was happening? His gut twisted as he wondered how long the practice had been going on. There had been chimeras in the temple as long as he could remember…as long as Sinaryos had been a kingdom.
"I am doing everything in my power to pay what I owe,” Laena protested, interrupting his thoughts. “These things take time. I’ve tried for over a week to secure the child, but Novi watches her closer than a chimera does over her hatchlings."
Fallon stiffened. So it was true. His mother really did want to take his daughter, and not just to be raised by nannies. This witch was her co-conspirator. Of exactly what, he didn’t know.
Rage ignited in his blood, white-hot and all-consuming. His fingers curled into fists, nails biting into his palms. It took every shred of self-control not to burst from his hiding place and unleash his fury upon them both.
But he held himself in check, even as their words turned his stomach. He needed to hear more, to understand the full extent of their treachery. Only then could he hope to protect his family from the vipers in their midst.
Laena’s voice dropped, filling with anger. “Why haven’t you cleaned up this mess, you idiot? Did you not think to fetch a broom?”
“I’m so sorry, Your Majesty,” Elka stammered.
“Make yourself useful and draw me a bath,” Laena snapped. “I’ll have a properly trained maid deal with this.”
Footsteps shuffled again as Elka tiptoed into the bathroom. The sound of a slamming door made Fallon’s heart pound in his chest.
“What’s wrong? Did you not want her to hear the near limitless bounds of your negligence?" Alloria’s icy tone was edged with venom.
"Do not lecture me, woman!” Laena countered, her voice deceptively calm. "I've managed to get this far without your constant interference."
“You flatter yourself, Laena. You are but a pawn, and nothing more. A means to an end. And I am no mere woman !” Alloria huffed. “I am your mentor! I am the only reason you have managed this far!”
“I have done everything you’ve asked of me for centuries," Laena pleaded. "Surely that counts for something?"
A harsh laugh filled the room.
“Are you mad?” Alloria's voice came out in a menacing whisper. "Need I remind you yet again of the debt you owe? A debt that has gone unpaid for much too long? Your time is up.”
Fallon's eyes narrowed as he listened intently, his analytical mind piecing together the fragments of conversation.
"Alloria, please," Laena's voice held an uncharacteristic note of desperation. “Other than that one mistake, I’ve done everything else you've asked. The royal family?—"
"Is not yet under our complete control," Alloria interrupted, her voice as sharp as a blade. "Nimue is beyond mere disappointment at your blundering ineptitude. She is furious.”
Fallon's breath caught in his throat. Nimue? That unspoken name sent a chill down his spine. Nimue wasn’t a person—she was an evil witch who only existed in folklore. She was a myth...a story that parents told their young children to make them behave.
But the way that these two women spoke of her made her sound as real as if she were waiting in another room.
As he processed their words, a sickening realization dawned upon Fallon. His mother wasn't just dabbling in forbidden Kaos magic—she was deeply entangled in a dark web of conspiracy. It wasn’t only his child who was in danger.
The entire Kingdom of Sinaryos was at risk.
“One way or another, the debt must be paid," Alloria continued, her voice dropping to a menacing whisper. “Unless you would rather pay the debt yourself?”
“I can pay it. I need more time," Laena's voice trembled.
“You’ve already kept us waiting three hundred and thirty-five years.”
Three hundred and thirty-five years…
The number echoed in Fallon's mind as a disturbing theory emerged. That was precisely his age. What debt could his mother possibly have incurred around the same time of his birth? While the Queen loved to spend her wealth, she had never been one to gamble with it.
"Just a little longer, and I swear?—"
"Your oaths mean nothing at this point. Nimue wants results, not excuses." Alloria's voice dripped with disdain. “Why not tell me the truth?”
There was a tense pause. When Laena spoke again, her voice was tinged with desperation.
"I have already told you what happened a thousand times, if not more—I sent the girl with a midwife the moment the cord was cut. I compelled her to bring you the girl and settle my debt. Perhaps if you’d agreed to meet within the city walls instead of the forest, you’d have gotten your payment. It was a long, early winter that year. The girl and the midwife were likely eaten by wolves. Believe what you will, but I never betrayed you!”
Fallon's heart raced, each beat thundering in his ears so loud that he could hear the blood rushing through his veins. Were they speaking about his twin sister—the same one who’d died at birth? Had she been intended as some sort of arcane payment? The thought made bile rise in his throat.
"Spare me your sob story." Alloria sounded bored, yet her tone never lost the cruel edge. "You made a promise to Nimue. She will not relent until you give her a firstborn daughter of Kaos. Neither will I. Even if that firstborn daughter has to be you .”
"I will get her a firstborn daughter of Kaos," Laena declared, her voice cold and resolute. "I will pay my debt if it's the last thing I do."
Fury and horror flooded Fallon’s veins like ice water. His vision blurred around the edges, but he forced himself to focus and listen. They meant to take his daughter, to deliver her into the hands of some unknown evil to settle a debt. And his own mother was a willing participant in this appalling plan. He curled his fingers around one of the wooden slats that supported the mattress, wishing they were curled around Alloria’s neck…and his mother’s.
Every muscle in his body tensed, ready to spring into action. But he held back, knowing he was outmatched. His own magic was too new. It was unpredictable and raw, and no match for Alloria's centuries of experience.
“Paying your debt may well be the last thing you do,” she threatened before leaving the room.
Fallon's heart pounded in his ears, each beat thumping like the blow of a hammer. He listened as Laena pushed open the door to the bathroom and began screaming at Elka.
“Get out!” she yelled. The bed shook as Elka was shoved against it. “And go fetch a maid with half a brain to clean up this broken glass!”
The door slammed again, and Fallon gasped for air, not realizing he’d been holding his breath for the last few moments. He waited until Elka crawled to the floor and peered at him.
“You should leave while you have the chance,” she breathed in the softest of whispers.
Fallon didn’t need to be told twice.
With Elka hurrying to keep pace with Fallon’s long strides, they navigated the labyrinth of halls and floors. The portraits and statues that lined the halls of Blackwood Castle suddenly felt oppressive and alien. How long had this conspiracy been festering within these very walls?
Servants and courtiers alike scattered before Fallon's thunderous expression, sensing the barely restrained rage that crackled around him. It followed him as they arrived at their destination.
Mauricio's office was a hive of activity, with harried assistants darting in and out like bees. The seneschal himself stood at the center of the chaos, barking orders with the precision of a general on a battlefield.
“…the archives for what Prince Dillon's uniform should look like. And you, there…make sure His Highness’s chambers are stocked with the finest Sinaryan brandy. He always had a taste for it, as I recall."
Mauricio's eyes widened as Fallon burst in, Elka in tow.
"Your Highness!" He looked up, surprise etched on his weathered features. "I wasn't expecting?—"
"Clear the room," Fallon commanded, his voice brooking no argument. The servants quickly filed out, casting curious glances over their shoulders.
“What’s wrong, sire?” Mauricio's brow furrowed with concern.
Fallon's gaze flicked to Elka. "Tell him everything you've seen and heard since you were sent to work for the Queen. Leave nothing out."
As Elka began to speak, her voice trembling, Fallon turned to stare out the window. The sun was hidden behind dark grey clouds, casting Sinaryos in gloomy light. A fitting backdrop, he thought grimly, for the storm that was about to break.
Fallon pushed open the heavy oak door to his chambers, his movements quick and deliberate. The dim candlelight flickered against the stone walls, casting long shadows that seemed to mock him with their dance. Novi sat slumped in an armchair by the hearth, her eyelids drooping, fighting a losing battle against exhaustion. Lucia lay nestled in her arms, the infant's soft breaths the only sound breaking the silence.
"Shh," Fallon whispered, gently lifting Lucia from Novi’s grasp. The baby stirred but did not wake, her tiny hands curling instinctively around his fingers. He crossed the room with measured steps, placing Lucia tenderly into the bassinet. His heart ached at the sight of his daughter, so small and vulnerable, destined to be a pawn in a game she didn't even know existed.
"Fallon?" Novi's voice was thick with sleep, her eyes half-open as she looked up at him. "Are you back?"
"Yes, my love," he murmured, scooping her up with surprising ease. She felt weightless in his arms, a fragile reminder of everything he stood to lose. “Let’s get you into bed."
"Did it not go well with your mother? You look... upset.” Her words were punctuated by a yawn, her head resting against his chest.
“She has that effect on people. Don’t worry. It’s nothing you need to worry about," Fallon lied, his tone steady despite the turmoil inside. He needed to protect her, now more than ever. He laid her down on the bed, tucking the blankets around her with care.
“Don’t let me oversleep,” she said with a yawn. "I want to see Annika and celebrate with Dillon.”
“I won’t let you oversleep.”
“And make sure Callie’s here in time to do my hair. She wasn’t feeling well so I let her take the day off.”
“I’ll make sure she’s here.”
“And Tamira,” Novi breathed. Her grip on consciousness was fading fast. “I can’t believe we’re already leaving Lucia with a nanny…she’s barely a week old.”
“There’s a first time for everything. The longer we wait, the more difficult it will become.”
“Maybe you’re right.”
"Everything will be fine," Fallon assured her, brushing a strand of hair from her face. "I've placed extra guards outside our chambers—eight instead of four. No one will get past them."
"You're always so thorough," she whispered, a faint smile playing on her lips. "I don't know what I'd do without you."
"Sleep now," he urged, his hand lingering on her cheek. "Dream of the future that awaits us. I'll watch over you both.”
Her eyes fluttered closed, and within moments, she was asleep, her breathing deep and even. Fallon stood there for a long moment, watching her, feeling the weight of the secrets he carried pressing down on him like a vise.
He moved to the window, staring out at the ocean, at the harbor, and the city below. The familiar view offered no comfort. Every shadow seemed to conceal a threat, every whisper of the wind a promise of doom. His mind raced with thoughts of Laena and Alloria, their sinister plans for the throne, and the debt that could only be paid off with a firstborn daughter of Kaos.
The room was silent save for the crackling of the fire and the soft breathing of his loved ones. He turned away from the window and watched them sleep.
"Lucia," he murmured to himself, his fists clenching at his sides. "I swear on my life, no one will take you from us.”
He took a deep breath, forcing himself to focus. There was so much to be done, so many plans to be made, and allies to be secured. A storm was coming, but it was still in the distance. All he could do was make preparations and then watch it roll in.
Until it arrived, he would stand guard over the two most important people in his life.
And when it arrived, he would fight to the death to save them.