by M. Dalto
Treyan’s own heart ached that they were even having this conversation. “Desperate times call for desperate measures. You have to understand—”
“Oh, I understand,” she hissed, and began to stand. “I understand that the only one who is desperate in this situation right now is you.”
He leaned over the table, trying his hardest to get closer to her. If he could only convince her that his ramblings were more than the love-struck pleas of a mad man, perhaps she would be able to realize.
“Alex, don't you see? The unborn children could be the reason for the Prophecy to be set off course. Whatever Reylor did, if we wait until they're born, it could be too late!”
She shied away from him, her gaze haunted as she looked to him. “Reylor was supposed to be the twisted one. But this? This is pure insanity. You're supposed to be better than this!”
He tried to not allow the insult to sting. “I am, Alex, believe me, but if we just—”
“Enough!” She stood from her chair faster than she should have, and her hand went to her stomach as though the wind was knocked from her.
Treyan went to offer his hand, but she brushed it away.
“This will not be spoken of again, Treyan. Never again.”
“Alex, you have to listen—”
“No, you will listen!” She talked right through him. “The wedding will occur as planned. The Councillor will advise you as to when that date will be. Until that time, we will have no more talk of erasing the past or rewriting the future.”
He tried to stop her, but she walked away from him and out of the door chamber, once again leaving him behind and alone.
31
Alex needed to get to get back to her room.
She rushed past the guards who stood outside the Councillor’s doors, waiting for her. She knew they would follow her regardless, but after talking to Treyan, she needed to be alone, and quickly.
All but running back to her quarters as fast as her body would allow, she shut the door as soon as she could and locked it behind her. Only once she was certain she would not be disturbed, Alex sat herself on the edge of her bed, held her head in her hands, and cried.
She cried for the first time in a long, long time.
Why? She had to ask herself.
Was it because Treyan truly believed aborting her pregnancy would fix everything? Or was it because she had once considered it a viable option?
Was it having to communicate with Treyan about the pregnancy in the first place? Or was it due to having to communicate with him at all?
It could have been all of it, or none of it whatsoever. Her hormones might be surging, but this time she was certain her reaction was legitimate.
Despite being surrounded, she’d never felt so alone.
Treyan was right. She didn't want to get married.
Some days she didn't even want to be the Empress anymore.
And the pregnancy…
She didn't want any of it.
There was no one she could talk to because she had pushed everyone away. No one had any idea what she was going through because she wouldn't allow them that satisfaction.
Day in and day out, she asked herself how long she could keep up the charade. And the answer always remained the same.
As long as she had to.
It was her predestined duty.
The Empire depended on her, and she made the promise to herself, ever since that first attack—ever since she met the little boy, Cairn—that she would do anything she could to keep it from happening again.
To do all she could to ensure there would be no more orphans.
No more death.
Even her own unborn children.
Which brought her to the upcoming nuptials.
Initially, moving on as planned was as much her idea as it was the Councillor's. They agreed the people needed to see that everything was as it should be within the palace, especially since the added patrols along the Borderlands were causing concern among the Empire's surrounding villages.
She also knew that if anything was going to drag Reylor out of his snake hole of a castle, her impending marriage to Treyan would be a good place to start. The Betrayer would answer for his crimes against the Empire.
Against her.
Should Reylor show up on the wedding day, she would be waiting for him.
The preparations for the wedding happened like clockwork. For an event that was to be such a joyous occasion, Alex didn’t have much of a care about the specifics and allowed the Councillor to handle the traditions and details. On the rare occasion, an unknown servant would seek her out to ask about flower preferences, or meal choices, or tapestry colors for the reception, but none of it mattered to her. Often, she’d consider sending them away to Treyan to make the decisions, but quickly thought better of it.
All she needed to do was show up.
For the Empire’s sake, she hoped Treyan would do the same.
32
Three weeks later, the day of the wedding had arrived, and the entire Empire came to see the Queen Empress and the Crown Prince marry along the steps of the palace's royal gardens as so many generations had done so before. Lords and ladies, highborn and commoner, all flocked to catch a glimpse of the happy occasion.
If they only knew.
Alex stood in front of her floor-length mirror while her three mistresses worked around her like busy little bees. She invited them back for the day, and they attempted to make her look like an example of perfection. The wedding dress fit her perfectly, even with her expanding belly and supple bosom. The white satin was inlaid with gold embroidery along the empire-cinched bust line and hems of the skirts and sleeve, while the rest of it flowed about her as though she was walking on a cloud. She wore simple satin slippers that matched the dress' golden details, and her necklace and earrings complimented the embroidery in gold and diamonds. Upon her head sat the crown of the Empire, and her hair remained down, curled and cascading over her shoulder.
If it was another day at another time, she would have thought everything was perfect.
But as she looked at herself in the mirror, turning from side to side while she smoothed a wrinkle here, adjusted a seam there, she resigned herself to the idea that today was all about duty.
As would every day be thereafter.
It was all she could do to keep herself moving forward. Looking back only brought her to the darkest of places.
Almost ready, she dismissed her mistresses to give her a moment of privacy while she donned her personal effects. Mallia smiled at her knowingly while she ushered out the others, evidently assuming Alex's intentions focused on her wedding night with Treyan.
Mallia was going to be sadly disappointed.
Alex went over to the table next to her bed and pulled from its drawer a black silk- wrapped item that lay inside. With gentle hands, she removed the knife from its protective covering and laid it flat in her palm.
She had taken the knife from her dinner tray not long after she had returned and decided she would proceed with the wedding plans. It was serrated, and sharp, and would get the job done should the wedding receive its expected crasher.
She refused to be a victim any longer. This time, she would be ready for him.
Hitching up her wedding skirts, she placed the knife within the garter around her thigh, securing it to her leg tightly with an additional leather thong. Without another thought, she lowered her dress and exited her rooms.
Surprisingly, there was no one waiting for her outside her chambers, so she walked herself to the stairs that led to the main terrace. The Councillor was waiting for her at the door to the gardens as it was decided he would present her to the Empire in place of the Lord Steward.
The Councillor smiled at her as though a proud father might and offered Alex his arm. “Empress, you are truly as lovely as the suns in the sky.”
She returned with a polite smile, finding her mind drift towards a distant memory in a far-away realm. When she one
day dreamt about her own father walking her down the aisle, but that was another time, and different circumstances. “Thank you, Councillor,” she said softly. “You’re too kind.”
With a nod from the Councillor, the guards opened the double doors that brought them to the gardens, and they proceeded out to the veranda to begin the ceremony.
Despite how she was feeling inside, the day couldn't have been more flawless. The weather was cool compared to the moderate days she had gotten used to, but the warmth from the twin suns kept it comfortable. The gardens were lush and colorful, and the scent of roses immediately filled her sinuses.
She couldn't see Treyan from where she stood, and her heart began to flutter with anxiety. The last thing she needed was nerves to slow her down when she had allowed herself to be so reserved in her decision. But she ignored him for so long, and started to believe he would allow emotions to overcome his obligations...
Though it seemed the entire population of the Empire was present and craning their necks for a glimpse of the Queen Empress, all of Alex's attentions were on Treyan once he came into view.
With Jamison at his side, he stood at the edge of the veranda, dressed in the ceremonial best of the Crown Prince, his sword at his waist, white pants, and black boots. His raven hair was tied into a ponytail at the nape of his neck, keeping it out of his vibrant blue eyes.
Alex's breath caught in her throat as her heart fought to escape from her chest. He was breathtaking. And once his eyes fell upon her, a smile that mirrored hers came across his face.
For the first time in a long while, she felt a familiar twinge within her. That pull of nostalgia that drew her towards the Crown Prince since the first day she met him. She knew better now, that it was most likely the magic of the Prophecy that made her want him. For a while she considered that there may have been something legitimate between them rather than a predestined force.
Maybe at a different time, under different circumstances, she would have allowed herself to find out.
The Councillor had passed her hand along to Treyan's, but she was so lost in the sight of him that she barely noticed. Taking her hands in his, Treyan just looked at her with that smile, and she found her blush warming her face in the cool breeze. He squeezed her hands in assurance, and she tightened her grip in response as they both faced the Councillor, who in turn announced to the populace that the wedding ceremony between the Queen Empress Alexstrayna and the Crown Prince Treyan was about to commence.
It quickly became apparent to Alex that weddings within the Empire were much different than any she attended while she lived in Boston, as their ceremony continued on until the suns began to set. Vows were said, rings were exchanged, bread broken, wine drunk, and finally, when they were allowed to kiss to seal their commitment to one another, she sensed the hesitation before Treyan leaned in, meeting her lips chastely in the kiss that would seal their fate as husband and wife.
The crowd erupted in applause and excitement.
But then they heard the screams.
Breaking their kiss, Alex and Treyan turned towards the sound of distress.
From their vantage point above the crowd, they saw a figure moving towards them in the distance, and as the crowd parted to make way for their visitor, the screams and cries increased in unison.
The newlyweds looked at each other without a word and descended the stairs hand in hand to greet their unexpected guest. As they waited, Alex’s other hand slowly fell to her thigh to feel the security of the knife within her garter, expecting the worst.
As they watched, a rider upon a horse emerged from the distressed crowd, but both could tell from its approach that something was not right. The horse seemed erratic and moved as if some unnatural force drove it forward. The rider was slumped forward in the saddle, still as if they had fallen asleep.
It took but a moment for them to realize the rider wasn’t sleeping at all.
The rider was dead, tied to the saddle.
It was Jamison’s cry from behind them that brought them around to recognize the rider.
It was Mallia, and she arrived bearing gifts.
Her hands and legs had been bound around the saddle of the horse with an excessive length of rope. Treyan and Jamison rushed the horse while another guard held the reins, and after what seemed like an eternity of untying and unwinding, the mistress was finally brought down from the saddle. Jamison held her in his arms, but it was too late.
Alex immediately recognized the hair comb in Mallia’s hair – it was the same one she had worn on her coronation day. She tried to remove it for a closer look, but it wouldn’t budge as the accessory had been stabbed directly into the mistress’ skull.
Mallia’s eyes had been pierced with the very same earrings Treyan had given Alex, and around Mallia’s neck was the matching necklace, pulled taut, strangling her to deal the fatal blow.
Alex’s vision began to blur as she looked upon the animal that had been sent to them. On either side of the horse, the word “CONGRATULATIONS” was carved into the creature’s flesh, the wound fresh, deep and bloody.
Treyan turned towards Alex, face pale with disbelief, and their eyes met just as everything faded to black.
33
“Her life force is dissipating, my Prince.”
“But how? That’s not possible. She was just—”
“I do not know, but we are losing her.”
“No, something has to be done!”
“I… I cannot. I do not know…”
The voices grew softer as Alex drifted away.
The room was bright, with windows reaching from the floor to the vaulted cathedral ceiling. Alex looked down at herself and realized she was wearing a thin, white sundress with thin straps. She could see her bare feet from where she stood. Her pregnant belly was gone. She was oddly calm about this, and as she went to wrap her arms around her body, instinctively trying to warm herself, she realized with the light came comfortable warmth, giving her surroundings a soft, subtle glow. It was a large room from where she stood, with pillars to the ceiling and an aisle that ran down the center of the room, with the walls decorated with paintings and tapestries on all sides. Ahead of her, at the end of the aisle, was a golden dais with winding stairs leading to the concealed platform above. Shrugging, she continued forward. She had nowhere else she needed to be.
The room around her was quiet, though not eerily or awkward. There wasn't anything wrong with the room from what she could tell. It was warm, and bright, and pleasant. She didn't feel threatened being in that room, and that itself was a comfort. She climbed the stairs, in silence, not necessarily caring where they led, but hoping there would be some sort of explanation when she finally reached the top.
She wasn't sure how much time passed and so she continued on at a leisurely pace until the stairs ended. Waiting for her at the precipice of the raised platform was a glorious golden throne that looked as though it was carved from a stone of gold. At first glance, she thought there was a radiance emanating from it, but upon closer inspection, when the light itself began to move, she realized it wasn't the chair that was glowing, but the being that sat upon it.
“Hello, Alexstrayna.”
“She needs space.”
“What’s happening?”
“She has stopped breathing, my Prince—”
“No! Do something!”
“Treyan, there is nothing—”
“Do something!”
Alex stepped forward. “Who are you?”
The glowing figure stood and began to walk towards her in her golden glory. “I am Queen Empress Saratanya, the first of her name. The daughter of Saviors and the Light of the Empire.”
Alex peered at her as the light began to dwindle. Soon, the dark blond hair and blue eyes sparked recognition in Alex's mind. “I know you. You're....”
Saratanya nodded. “I am the mother of Treyan and Reylor.”
“They said you were dead.”
“And so will you be, in a mome
nt, if you don't hear me out.”
Alex looked around as the pieces came together. “So, this is what Heaven looks like.”
“Call it whatever you like, but it is not for you. Not yet.”
She looked to the Queen Empress then, a look of disappointment upon her face. “Why not?”
“It is not your time.”
“Says who?” she asked as she stubbornly crossed her arms across her chest.
“The Prophecy,” Saratanya responded calmly.
“The Prophecy has already been ruined, no thanks to your son.”
Saratanya shook her head sadly. “You know better than that, Alexstrayna. You're just too scared to come to admit it.”
“What about the twins?”
“My Prince, if the Empress dies, the unborn children are too premature to survive on their own. They will perish with her.”
“No!”
“What if I don’t want to accept it?” Alex asked defiantly. She could feel her anger rising as she turned her attention from the Empress. “Why am I the one who must suffer while Reylor continues to live without remorse? How many more innocent people have to get hurt—have to die—at his hands for something to change?”
“You can change it, Alexstrayna. Your children are already beginning to shape the world anew, but you are too frightened to open your eyes to see it. Have you not learned by now? The Prophecy will always survive. It will rewrite itself as it must, as it has for every generation, past or present. As the Queen Empress, it is your responsibility to see to it!”
“The Empire will continue on without me. It will probably be better for it.”
“I do not think Treyan sees it that way.”
“No? Wasn’t he the one who suggested destroying those very children you mentioned were already beginning to shape the world?” She huffed out a sardonic chuckle. “You know, I might have even considered it, if I didn’t think it meant Reylor would still win out in the end. But a part of me has to wonder- what’s it all truly for? So why not better to remove the one thing that can make it all finally stop”