by M. Dalto
An involuntary shudder traveled through her. “And should anyone from the Empire chose to visit the Borderlands?”
“He’s also made it known that anyone who ventured beyond the tree line into the Borderlands would be deemed a traitor to the Empire deserving of the severest punishment.”
She didn't know if anyone challenged the decrees or not, but she didn't care either way.
Just so long as Reylor stayed as far away from her as possible.
With the Prince gone, it was one less harsh reality Alex would need to face when there were still so many she needed to work through. But the Councillor was kind enough, and knew what not to discuss, and Alex was slowly able to return to a somewhat normal routine of lessons and diplomacy, even when her nights were still riddled with nightmares.
She met with the Councillor regularly, maintaining a handle on the daily activities of the Empire, ate her meals, and finally saw the healer. Weight began to return to her body, and when she was certain the healer wouldn’t admonish her for it, she would visit to ensure the babies were growing as they needed to be. They were the future of the Empire, after all, and through them, and whatever curse Reylor summoned upon her, she was either going to be the Savior the Prophecy wanted her to be, or she was going to raze it to the ground.
She maintained her routine.
But once those meetings came to a close, her food was consumed, and her health properly monitored, she returned to her rooms, continuing to refuse any visitors.
Especially when Treyan returned home.
She didn’t want him to touch her.
Didn’t want him to judge her.
Didn’t want him to ask her if she was okay.
She wasn’t okay. She didn’t know when she would again be okay.
And being near him would be a constant reminder of how not-okay she was.
It was soon apparent, however, through her meetings with the Councillor, that Mallia's constant presence was double-edged. While she assisted Alex where she may have needed it, it also became obvious she was reporting back to the Councillor regularly, updating him on her status and the well-being of the unborn twins.
Alex became increasingly suspicious once the Councillor began asking specific questions that only Mallia would have known the answers to, such as how well the healer’s ointment was working, and with an even heavier heart Alex took it upon herself to dismiss her friend once and for all.
Betrayal, once again, from someone she thought she could trust.
There was no one now.
29
Treyan stood silently, staring at the very book that had come to destroy his life.
It had been three months since Alex's return, but still nothing changed.
Of course, he tried calling on her, when he was able to—his time at the palace was limited due to his constant visits towards the tree line, but still he tried. However, each time the guards outside of her chamber doors—his own guards—denied him entry. Alex refused to see him, and he hadn't talked to her since the night she awoke and subsequently walked away from him. She rarely left her quarters, he noted on the rare occasions he was within the palace, and when she did leave them it was never alone. She was constantly surrounded by her guards, or the Councillor, and on the off chance their paths did cross, whether in the hallways or near the kitchens, she never gave him the benefit of a glance or even the acknowledgement that he was there.
This was not how things were supposed to be.
A part of him now understood Reylor's contempt towards the Annals. The book did nothing but ruin lives. And here they sat before him, untouched and unscathed, unlike the lives its text had already ruined.
He traced the intricacies of the leather-bound cover with a gentle hand, but the Annals did not react to his touch. All the better, he decided. He wasn't here looking for visions or foretelling.
He was here looking for answers.
With two hands he pushed open the large cover of the Annals and began scouring the mysterious tome before him. He didn't know what he was looking for—answers to unknown questions, perhaps—but whatever it was, it had to be in the book.
Treyan was unsure as to how much time passed as he dedicated himself to reading every line of text written in the book. Not only did it house the very Prophecy his family's legacy was built upon, but in it contained the history of each and every retrieval of the Empress throughout the generations. He knew one day it would be his time to include their story within the Annals and scoffed at the story he would someday need to tell his children.
Treyan stopped reading as his tears surfaced. He knew the Prophecy but reading it all again gave him a moment to pause. How did his father feel having to tell his story? Did he feel as though he had done the Empire its justice, and not the failure his son felt now? And his own mother, who had lost her life at such a young age, how did she ensure the Prophecy would continue on? Treyan's father disappeared when he was young, and his mother died so soon after...to know she died without knowing how her sons would carry on her legacy...
Treyan was beyond mourning his mother, but now it was his potential future with Alex that concerned him.
He wiped his eyes, angry at himself for this weakness.
Taking a deep breath, he continued on. He knew there was something hiding within the ancient texts that told him why Reylor did what he had, if he could even figure out what exactly it was he had done. History repeats itself, he once told Alex, and Treyan was going to find it again.
Treyan looked up as one of the palace’s caretakers entered the library to light its sconces and candles. He didn’t know if they even noticed him there, but he was grateful they let him be. It felt as though he scoured through the Annals for what felt like weeks, but in reality, he knew it was only the majority of the day. He read as far back as he could manage and consumed every ounce of history that his brain would allow, but it seemed as though his eyes were playing games with his mind, and soon everything began to remain the same.
The birth of the Queen Empress within the Otherrealm triggers the birth of the Twin Princes within the Empire. Once the Dream of the Empress is revealed, the Crown Prince travels to the Otherrealm to retrieve the Queen Empress. Upon coronation, it is the Crown Prince’s sworn duty to ensure the continuance of the Empire’s royal line, and upon the birth of the next generation, the Prophecy is reborn.
But why, he kept asking himself. What was the point?
There was little variation from generation to generation. The book was supposed to have the answers, not supply additional questions. It was close to the fiftieth recount when Treyan had seen enough and he began to lose his temper. Was this a joke from the gods? Were they only playing a game where he and Alex were the pawns? Was that what this was for?
He shoved the Annals away forcefully, unable to look upon it any longer, and it wasn’t until the ancient pedestal began to tilt that he realized the horror of which he had done.
Desecrating the ancient book was blasphemous to the Prophecy and betrayal to the Empire just by itself. He recalled Reylor’s fate upon his outward attempt at the book’s destruction, and quickly jumped behind a nearby bookshelf in an attempt to shield himself from any retaliation.
Knowing Reylor’s fate, he now feared for his own.
But the book did not react as he expected. Though it did fall from the pedestal, it began to emanate a pale, reddish glow and righted itself on its own. The pages began to rifle as though a breeze blew through them, and the book soon landed softly upon the floor. Eyes wide with caution, Treyan crept from his hiding place towards the mystic manuscript.
The Annals maintained the eerie red glow, but it appeared to open itself to an entry Treyan hadn’t seen in his hours of searching. Peering at the text, it occurred to him this entry was dated some two thousand years before their time.
Kneeling on the floor before the tome, he leaned over and began reading.
He was uncertain of the context, for it was written centuries ago in an a
ncient hand no longer practiced, but the insinuation of the passage was clear. This was the story of the war from two thousand years ago that tore the Empire asunder, whose scars still remain within the Empire today. He sat there while he read through the entry, wondering why the Annals chose this time in history. Each passage was ripe with loss and death, gripping his attention while their words held tight around his heart with an icy touch.
But within those words was a glimmer of hope he was looking for.
There was one constant in all of this: one part of their story that continued to replay over, and over again.
He knew he was crazy to think it a viable option, but if there was a chance to deny Reylor that which he thought he had cast between them….
He knew what must be done to save Alex. To save his Empire.
And when he was done, he would consider killing his brother for it.
30
Sleep was harder than usual for Treyan that night.
He finally had a plan and it made him restless. He remained awake, staring at the ceiling, and often found himself thinking of Alex. Was she, too, lying awake? Was she thinking of him as he thought of her?
He was aware nothing he could do or say would make anything better, so he gave her the space she needed, and left her alone.
Even as he knew it would eat him from the inside out.
But this plan—he would need to speak to the Councillor about it as soon as the suns began to rise, and once their light shone over the horizon, he rolled out of bed and began dressing for the day.
He knew this would work, he convinced himself. He also knew there would be objections, but they had to trust him.
He was tying his boots when a knock came to the door.
“Enter.”
Mallia stepped in and his heart skipped a beat. He had asked the mistress to keep an eye on Alex in his stead, and she did so honorably until Alex sent her away. But now, upon Mallia’s arrival, Treyan had to wonder if Alex had sent for him.
But Mallia entered in quietly, with her head bowed. “My Prince, the Councillor has asked for a moment of your time.”
No, not Alex. It was hard to hide the disappointment from his face as Mallia remained standing at the door, waiting for a response.
But an invitation to see the Councillor would do just as well.
He cleared his throat. “Please advise the Councillor that I will be there momentarily,” He informed her with more formality than required.
“Yes, my Prince.” She bowed and moved to close the door behind her.
“Mallia,” he called out before she could depart, stopping her.
Treyan moved towards her, closing the space between them. “I’m sorry, for what happened with Alex. That she dismissed you.”
The Mistress looked at him with a sadness behind her eyes, but nodded, her voice soft. “We all wanted what was best for her, Treyan. I wouldn’t have agreed if I didn’t believe the same.”
The door to his room closed before he could have asked anything more.
He did all he could to keep from sprinting to the Councillor's chambers.
Once he arrived, he burst through the door, but the Councillor already had an audience. He paused once Treyan entered, his attention focused on the chair closest to the door.
Treyan’s heart skipped a beat.
“Alex.”
She did not respond, but remained seated, her eyes upon the Councillor as he stood at the other side of the room.
“My Prince, thank you for joining us on such short notice,” the Councillor greeted him, but Treyan hadn't heard.
His shock upon seeing her after all this time must have been evident for his eyes remained only on her. It had been so long...
The Councillor cleared his throat, finally regaining Treyan's attention. “Please, take your seat. We have much to discuss.”
He obediently took his seat, but he soaked in every detail of her that he could.
Her hair was high on her head in a pile of curls and tendrils. She wore an empire-waisted gown of smooth red velvet, with simple silver jewelry and the crown of the Empire upon her head. She was sitting close to the table so he was unable to see her swelling stomach, but he couldn't help but glance upon her breasts and noticed their growing size in preparation for childbirth. Her hands were delicately folded on the table, and on her left hand still rested his ring.
Despite how long he watched her, she never looked in his direction. Her eyes were seriously focused on the Councillor and whatever it was that needed to be discussed.
Treyan's heart pounded as his anxiety grew. He knew this would be his only chance to discuss his plans, but before he could go any further, the Councillor disrupted his agenda.
“My Prince, Empress Alexstrayna and I have been considering the political schema of the Empire, and she and I believe it is time to start making the royal marriage arrangements.”
Treyan couldn't believe what he was hearing.
“With all due respect, I understand the tradition. I know it’s expected for the Queen Empress and Crown Prince to marry before the children are due to arrive.” He then turned his gaze from the Councillor to Alex. “But in light of everything that’s happened, you want to begin planning the wedding? Now?"
She gave no response.
“Yes, my Prince,” the Councillor answered for her, trying to regain Treyan's attention. “We believe that by solidifying the union between the Crown Prince and the Queen Empress, regardless of what Reylor believes he has accomplished, will present the Empire as a stronger force to its people in a time where so many are concerned that we’ll fall under threat from the Borderlands.”
Treyan gaped in disbelief as he looked at Alex.
“You want me to believe that, in spite all that has transpired, we're just to continue on living as planned as though nothing has gone awry?”
He was practically pleading with her to just give him a glance but, still, she showed him nothing.
“We believe it is the best for the Empire if we can show them that the Prophecy lives on,” the Councillor announced.
Treyan stopped and stared at the Councillor.
“The Prophecy? Is that what this is all about?”
“The people need hope, my Prince.”
Ignoring him, he turned to Alex and dared to place a hand on hers. She moved her hand away immediately, but Treyan did not falter.
“This isn't what you want, Alex. You're letting them get into your head. This isn't going to make anything better. Living a lie will only make matters worse!”
She closed her eyes and looked away from him.
He knew this wasn't her choice. It couldn't be.
Standing from his chair, he turned faced the Councillor, squaring his shoulders and standing as tall as possible. He was the Crown Prince—he was going to play his part.
“Councillor, due to the recent events, I believe the Prophecy is the one thing we should not follow—it is exactly what Reylor expects and giving him exactly what he wants.”
The Councillor held his stare as if he hadn’t heard him correctly. Even Alex turned in his direction with curiosity in her eyes.
“Prince Treyan,” the Councillor stammered. “Going against the Prophecy is blasphemy to the Empire. You remember what happened when your brother tried to defy the Annals.”
“Which is all the more reason I think history is trying to correct the errors it has made.”
Silence fell over them, and it was Alex who finally broke it.
“Perhaps we should hear Prince Treyan out.”
“Empress,” the Councillor began.
But she held a hand out as to let him know he needn't say any more. “It's alright, Councillor. I think it best that the Prince and I discuss this in private. We’ll continue later.”
“As you wish, Empress,” the Councillor responded. Nodding to Treyan as he made his way from the meeting room, he left Alex and Treyan alone for the first time since the night of her coronation.
She turned to him once they were gone, her dark eyes looking into his. There was no emotion in them—she was all business.
“What do you propose, Treyan?”
“Alex.” His voice cracked.
She closed her eyes and put her hands up once again, stopping him.
“Please,” she urged, her voice level. “Let's keep this as quick and as simple as possible. What is this plan you propose?”
Disappointment fell over him, but he refused to lose the opportunity to talk to her after all this time.
“Alex,” he began steadily. “I think I've found a way to fix the Prophecy. I know how to get everything back on track.”
“That is why we're continuing on with the marriage plans, Treyan. Why else do you think—”
“Having a wedding is not going to fix the problem, Alex. We both know that!”
“You don't know what you're talking about.” She looked down, her hand instinctively resting on her stomach.
“No. For the first time in a long while, I finally think I do.”
“You can't change the past.”
“But we can fix it!”
“We?” She perked a brow at him.
Treyan sat back down in his chair, pulling it close to hers. “What if I told you there was a way to reset the Prophecy back on its proper course, as written within the Annals itself?”
“How? You can't reset a Prophecy,” she reminded him.
“We can avoid potential disaster and restart it all from the point of derailment.”
She peered at him cautiously. “What are you suggesting?”
He took a deep breath. This was going to be his only chance. Thoughts of what the Annals showed him flooded his mind, and he hoped she would be able to understand.
“You’re just five months along, Alex.” He paused. “I suggest we terminate the pregnancy.”
She stilled. Everything stilled. Maintaining her gaze was the hardest part. Her eyes were instantly wide and incredulous.
“What you suggest,” she breathed out, “is nothing more than murder.”