Chapter 76
Aedlin
Before Dother’s Death
Aedlin stared at the oak cradle, its royal blue paint gleaming, even in the darkness.
Silver metalwork followed along the edges, intricately crafted to curl around the frame like vines, a golden tree painted in its center.
She despised it, the image a mockery of the ruined carving Kalyan had requested for their bedroom door—Dother must have had it painted to taunt her.
The baby’s cry cut through the silence, piercing Aedlin’s ears.
She watched from her perch on the edge of her bed, her hands pressed into the soft mattress.
Eerie shadows flickered on Darius’s red cheeks, the crackling fire in the corner barely clinging to the logs Dother’s guard had tossed in the fireplace earlier.
It was the only light source they had, her candles little more than a puddle of wax; she’d have to ask Rosemary to request more.
Darius squeezed his eyes shut, screaming louder, the flush on his wet cheeks nearly burgundy.
Any attempt to quiet him was fruitless—the child didn’t want to be fed, he hadn’t soiled himself, and his swaddle kept him warm.
Aedlin’s sanity, however, hung by a frayed thread.
She exhaled deeply, her focus drifting to her half-open bedroom door.
How did Rosemary manage to sleep so soundly in the sitting room?
Most nights she didn’t stir, fast asleep on the bed Dother’s guards dragged into the center of the room, Aedlin’s chairs and bookshelves pushed aside.
In truth, the fallen queen was grateful the lady-in-waiting slept through the evenings—it was better somehow, being alone.
A dry, burning ache coated Aedlin’s eyes, the lids nearly too heavy to hold open, but she couldn’t sleep.
Rarely did. Content to spend her evenings sitting on her bed and staring out her window whenever Darius didn’t require her attention.
The babe was fed, his needs cared for promptly—Aedlin wasn’t a fool, that was her purpose now.
The only thing Dother needed. Her days could very well be numbered, the tyrant king counting down the minutes until his son no longer needed a mother.
“You won’t need me for long,” she whispered, Darius’s cries swallowing her words.
She stared at him. At the parts she detested—his chocolate brown hair and azure eye a perfect match to his father’s—her fists curling in the blankets.
Then she made herself look into his amber eye and try to feel...
anything. There was a piece of her, somewhere, that cared for the little one—she could almost grasp it, buried under a heavy numbness pressing in on her from all sides.
Most days, she barely felt anything at all.
When something inevitably slipped through a crack in her apathy, it was a crushing sadness that clutched her windpipe until she couldn’t breathe.
Couldn’t think of anyone or anything but Mora.
What had that bastard done to her? How had Aedlin not seen the snake for what he was before it was too late? Her nails dug into her palms through the sheets, teeth grinding until an ache throbbed in her jaw.
A knock rapped on the door to her rooms, and she startled. What had she summoned with her thoughts? Dother? His guards?
She stood swiftly, pulling Darius into her arms. “Shhh,” she cooed, bouncing him and running her hand over the soft cloth swaddling his little body.
“Your Majesty?” a young man called from the entryway, still uncertain despite the long months he’d spent stationed at her door.
“I’m fine,” she hissed, too quiet for him to hear.
She couldn’t bring herself to move any further, her bare feet frozen on the cold, white tiles.
She told herself her shiver was thanks to winter’s breath seeping through the window, its frosty chill clinging to the walls, but Aedlin knew it was a lie.
The guard served Dother, the monster’s will his own.
If he was here, the king wanted something.
Careful footsteps pattered through her sitting room, followed by a hesitant knock, hinges squeaking while her half-open bedroom door inched closer to the wall. The guard cleared his throat. “May I come in?”
Aedlin sighed through her nose. Why ask when she couldn’t say no?
It didn’t matter that she was in a nightdress, the long white lace barely clinging to her shoulders.
Ten months she’d been a prisoner in her own rooms, Dother and his minions—typically this one—coming and going as they pleased.
Her word held no weight, her royal title little more than a farce.
Darius squirmed in her grip, wailing so loudly she thought her ears might pop. Aedlin took a deep breath and silently counted in her mind, ticking seconds away. Hoping time would ease the throbbing ache in her head... and the man would leave if she stayed quiet.
Perhaps Dother had found a wet nurse for his child and sent his guard to walk Aedlin to the gallows. One swift swing of an axe and it would all be over. She’d welcome the sweet relief of death if it meant finding Kalyan on the other side, and...
Would Mora be there too?
No. Aedlin felt it in her heart—Mora was alive. Trapped in whatever hell Dother had created, waiting for someone to save her. Waiting for her mother.
Aedlin’s lower lip wobbled, but she clamped her teeth together and stilled it before the guard could see.
He pushed through the door, despite her silence, his dark brown eyes softening at the sight of the two of them. The young man frowned, black hair tickling his forehead as his chin dipped—a minute bow, the slightest show of reverence.
Would his king see this as treason?
He cleared his throat, eyes trained on the floor. “You and Darius have had no rest, Your Majesty. I can fetch someone to accompany Rosemary if you need anything.”
“I don’t need you,” she said under her breath. Though, not as quiet as she intended.
The guard nodded, stepping closer, silver glimmering proudly on his royal blue tunic, catching what little light her fire had to offer. His lips tipped into a small smile. “May I?” he asked, reaching for Darius.
Aedlin shrugged and he pulled Darius in his arms, unbothered by the drool dribbling over his chin—the guard wiped it with his sleeve, cooing at the little one.
“I think I know what’s happening,” he said, slipping a finger into Darius’s mouth.
The babe’s cries calmed to a whimper as he clamped down in a gummy bite.
“Ah, there they are,” the man chuckled. “Growing teeth is a terrible thing, isn’t it, Darius?
” He looked back at Aedlin while he gently massaged the baby’s gums. “When my youngest brother was teething, we gave him a cold carrot from the root cellar. A little honey massage did wonders too. Should I send someone for them?”
Aedlin grimaced, the crushing feeling in her chest cinching tighter. “Why are you here?”
“I...” His throat worked. He returned Darius to her arms and wiped his fingers on his uniform, the task taking far longer than it should.
As if he were delaying the inevitable. Aedlin was tempted to shout at him to get on with it, but eventually he took a breath and said, “There’s nothing I can say to make any of this better.
No apology I could offer that would absolve me or save you, but—”
A harsh laugh burst free from Aedlin’s chest, Darius quietly watching while he chewed on her finger. “Go pray to the Gods and give them your excuses, I’m not interested in making you feel better about yourself.”
Clamping his lips shut, he nodded, a flush of red staining his sun-kissed cheeks. “The people want his head,” he offered.
“Good,” Aedlin spat. For a moment, she felt lighter, the air crisper somehow. Aedlin took the first deep breath she’d had in... gods, how long had it been?
Mora.
Her breath caught. If they came for the king, and they found the princess locked away somewhere in the castle, would they demand her head too?
Tears burned behind Aedlin’s eyes. She tensed, unwilling to shed a single one. “Has there been any word of my daughter?”
The guard peeked behind his shoulder toward the sitting room, his face grim. “I’m taking leave in a week.” He stepped closer, his voice so low Aedlin strained to hear. “It would be a shame if, on a random night, one of the other guards forgot to engage the lock on your door.”
Aedlin’s lips parted. “Is this a trick?”
“I never asked for this,” he said grimly.
“One word from the king and my family and I could pay for my past mistakes with our lives... but I’m getting them off this gods forsaken island.
” He paced to Kalyan’s gray lounge chair, running his fingers over the ridges carved in the wood along its top.
His shoulders dropped, head bowing. “He can kill me if he wants after that; I can’t do this anymore.
And there’s another who feels the same—he’ll knock on your door when it’s his turn to stand guard and make sure you can leave. ”
Aedlin tensed—it took all her strength to keep her hold on Darius gentle.
“Can’t handle imprisoning the king’s broodmare?
” Venom dripped from every word—there was no sense in pretending she wasn’t bitter.
Furious. The shell of apathy cocooning her cracking open while an endless river of rage rushed free.
“You’re so gallant—it only took you both the better part of a year to care. ”
The guard pressed a hand against his face, squeezing his temple as he sighed. “It’s worse than that.” His grip tightened on the chair, knuckles going white. “I requested this rotation. The other door... I... I couldn’t stand it anymore.”
Aedlin’s heart faltered. “Couldn’t stand what?”
“Listen for the evening knock on your door in a month’s time, Majesty,” he said, reaching for the dagger on his belt, sapphires glittering on the silver pommel.
“Wait a few minutes and then leave. He’ll make sure there’s a window between guard rotations by the king’s chambers before he signals to you it’s time—we’re spread so thin since the riots.
You could let yourself in if you want answers. ”
Her brows furrowed. “His door would be locked.”
“Not since the burning.” The guard smirked, pulled his blade free from its sheath, and tossed it onto the chair’s gray cushion.
The burning? The queen opened her mouth to ask, but he spoke first.
“Find your daughter and end this.”
Those words sucked all the air from the room.
Find Mora.
End it all.
Deep brown eyes bored into hers, a silent plea in that stare.
Aedlin didn’t say a word. She couldn’t convince herself to move, her breath caught in her lungs.
It was as if she were frozen, time releasing her from its arms, no longer interested in their dance.
The guard pushed away from Kalyan’s lounge chair, its wooden legs scraping against tile, the sound pulling her from her mind.
She shot him a glare, her muscles tensing while she considered admonishing him for moving Kalyan’s things...
“What’s your name?” she asked instead, feeling so small. The walls slipped further away as he made for the door, her bedroom expanding until she wondered if the floor would crack open and swallow her whole.
Long fingers trailed over the silver doorframe, the man hesitating at the threshold before he turned back, a sad smile twisting on his lips. “I’m Eris,” he said, his chin dipping one final time before he turned away and slipped back into the hall.