by J. D. Wright
It was a fair question, considering she would probably have at least two by now, had she not been kidnapped. After Rowan rescued her and returned her to Anestas, it took her months to get over her fear of leaving her hollow. Even then, she didn’t dare step foot outside of the valley. At least, not until Rowan returned, last year. Somehow, she had worked up enough courage to leave then. It may have been more from desperation than bravery, however.
“No. I’ve never had the chance,” she replied.
“Would you like to?” Oh, no. Immediately, he wished he had worded that differently. She probably thought he was propositioning her. Trying to recover, he added, “I mean, do you want children? Or daughters, I guess.”
“I… I do, yes.” Without warning, one of her dreams flashed into her mind. She was standing in the courtyard, waving to Reeve as he rode his horse toward her. She felt a small jab and reached down to rub the side of her swollen stomach. The memory of her dream felt so real. Then, as quickly as the memory came, it vanished and left her sitting with her hand on her stomach and a silly grin on her face.
Reeve had no idea what just happened, but it was the first time he had seen her genuinely smile in months. When she saw he was watching her, she quickly stood and turned away from him. Even if she was able to make new dreams stop happening, she couldn’t make the memories of her old dreams disappear.
Embarrassment washed over her. She could still feel his eyes on her and she shuddered, knowing how foolish she must appear to him. She wanted to get away, but she couldn’t. Suddenly, the locked room felt like a prison cell. Like a cage. And she had spent enough time trapped in a cage. She began to panic and ran over to the door, pulling it, hoping it would magically open. She could sense Reeve coming toward her and she lost all ability to focus. His face was blurry. He said something to her that she couldn’t understand because she was too distracted by the room beginning to shrink around her.
“I need to get out of here,” she said, panting. “Can’t… breathe.”
“Rhea. Are you alright? Can you hear me?” Reeve had seen his mother acting this way once when the two of them found themselves trapped at the end of a ravine while traveling. His mother had panicked inside of the small space.
He grabbed her arms, to stop her from banging on the door. Keeping hold of them, he wrapped his own arms around her, hugging her from behind.
“Shh…,” he said, softly into her ear. “Breathe. Focus on my voice.” She tried to fight him, but he held her tight. “Close your eyes. If it feels like something is squeezing you, it’s only my arms.” Rhea’s shaking eased up, but her breathing was still heavy so Reeve started to rock from side to side. Hugging his mother had worked in the ravine, except he had been a child then. He wasn’t sure if it would work this time. But Rhea seemed to be calming down, slowing her breathing to match the steady rhythm of their rocking.
She did as he said and kept her eyes closed. The room stopped shrinking when she was no longer looking at it and her head began to clear. The warmth of his arms around her was comforting. The gentle swaying soothed her nerves.
They remained this way for several moments until they heard a clicking sound coming from the door in front of them. The instant that the door started to move, Rhea broke away and flung it open, rushing out. Rowan jumped back to avoid being run over as the fairy brushed past him and took off down the hallway, disappearing around the corner.
“What happened?” Rowan said, stepping into the room.
“Was this your idea?” Reeve asked, taking the key that Rowan held out to him.
“No, of course not.”
“Good,” he spat then turned and started walking toward his room. “Tell your fiancé to stop attempting to fix everything. It’s only making things worse.” He stopped at his door and turned his head back to look at Rowan. “Respectfully, of course.” Then he stepped inside and slammed the door to his chambers behind him.
Chapter Three
Vallica picked up her brush and ran it through her smooth black hair. When she heard someone enter the rear of the room, she called out from her throne, “Unless you are coming to tell me that you have located the wizard, I do not wish to be disturbed.”
“Is that a proper way to greet your husband?”
Vallica’s blood turned to ice. Slowly, she stood and turned to find Silas standing behind her. He was wearing one of his tunics in Sire’s royal colors, blue and red. His smooth black hair was shorter but still slicked back as usual. Seeing his face was enough to make the muscles in Vallica’s arm go limp. The brush dropped to the floor with a thud.
“You can’t be real,” Vallica said, in disbelief. “You’re dead. I watched you die.”
“No, my dear. You saw me dying. And now I’m sure you must be upset to learn that your attempt to rid yourself of me has failed.”
“How is this possible? Where have you been all of this time?”
“Here and there. Nowhere, really. But it’s hardly of any concern. All that matters is that I am here, now.” Silas folded his hands and started slowly walking around the room. Vallica found his casual demeanor to be highly annoying.
“Perhaps, I should have stabbed you just once more,” Vallica replied.
“My, my. Our time apart has certainly increased your nerve, my dear.”
“I am not your dear, Silas. Your dear ran away, back to Junacave.”
“Oh, I am perfectly aware of where Cicilly is,” Silas replied, “among other things.”
“Is that so?”
“Oh, absolutely! I may not have been present in Sire, my dear, but I have ways of keeping an eye on my investments.”
“The entire kingdom believes you are dead. And I am not entirely convinced you aren’t, myself.” Vallica walked toward Silas, studying him. “You may look like Silas. And you sound like the arrogant bastard that he was, but how do I know you aren’t a phony conjured up by Larkin? I’ve seen, firsthand, how easily someone can change their appearance.”
Silas smirked and grabbed Vallica’s arm, gripping it tightly. “Yes, your nerve has greatly improved. It’s almost impressive.”
Vallica jerked her arm away and glared at him.
“I am a bit disappointed in you, my dear,” Silas said, walking around again. “I expected you to take better care of my kingdom.”
“It isn’t your kingdom, anymore, because you are dead.”
“I expected you to maintain my security,” he said, ignoring her remarks. “And I was surprised to hear that you executed my dear friend, Simon.”
“You were never Simon’s friend!” Vallica spat.
“And as it turns out, neither were you.”
“I cared more for him than you ever did.”
“Yet, he never met the end of a blade under my rule, did he? Oh, except for the finger.” Silas chuckled to himself. “But that is neither here nor there.
“So all of this time, you’ve been lying in wait? Is that what you expect me to believe?”
“I don’t care at all what you believe, my dear. However, your time as ruler of my kingdom is now over. But don’t worry, I will have Sire back in working order, shortly. Along with this disaster of a throne room,” Silas said, lifting a piece of black cloth that was draped over his throne.
Vallica was speechless. On one hand, she still didn’t believe this could be possible. If Silas had somehow survived the stabbing, then where had he been this entire time? And why did he wait until now to return? Better yet, now that he was back, what would become of her?
Larkin, Silas’ Royal Mage, burst into the throne room. He spotted Vallica and headed straight for her. “You! What have you done to my chambers? The room is nearly destroyed!”
Silas put an arm out and stopped Larkin before he could reach Vallica. “Now, now, Larkin. I’m sure my wife has a good explanation for a number of things that she has done in my absence.”
“I haven’t touched your chambers,” Vallica said. “Your junk has been of no use to me.”
“
Then it was your wizard. Where is he?”
“I have been unable to locate Mereck for several days now,” she replied. “Though, as powerful as he is, I doubt he would need anything from your chambers, either.”
“Mereck?” Larkin asked. “Did you say, Mereck?”
Vallica didn’t reply. She couldn’t decipher the wizard’s expression. He seemed angry but also confused.
Silas turned to Vallica and smiled. “Yes, it seems my wife has a great deal of explaining to do.”
“I will do no such thing. And I would prefer my execution be carried out swiftly and—“
“There will be no execution. Though, you will atone for your mistakes, my dear. However, it will have to wait. At least, until tomorrow.” Silas turned and began to leave the room.
“Tomorrow?” Vallica asked.
Silas stopped and looked back at her. “Well, of course. Today is cause for celebration. Punishments and resolutions will have to wait. Tonight, we will have a ball in honor of my return.”
~*~
Vallica stormed into her chambers, cursing to herself. She grabbed a vase from the table near her bed and smashed it on the floor. Silas had returned. She knew that he was likely already planning his revenge on her. What angered her the most was that she had lost control over Sire. In just a few moments time, she had gone from being a ruler over a powerful kingdom back to answering to her husband.
But, a ball?
Silas had never shied away from a chance to perform in front of his admirers. So his decision to celebrate his return shouldn’t be a surprise. Yet, Vallica couldn’t help but feel that something was amiss. He had been calm, downstairs. Too calm. He wasn’t angry enough with her for stabbing him. Neither did he seem too upset by Simon or the escape of his prized Cicilly.
Vallica paused when she noticed a large box sitting on top of her vanity. She recognized the box. It was the same one that Silas had used to leave gifts for her in the past. He hadn’t given her a gift in many years. Reaching out to lift the lid, Vallica almost expected to find a severed head or dead animal inside.
Only, there wasn’t. Nestled in the box was a gown. Vallica lifted it out of the box and looked it over. The silk gown was a gorgeous deep red with a thin black lacing overlay. It seemed to be just her size. It had long lace sleeves with red and black jewels around the wrists and neckline.
Confused, Vallica lowered the gown and draped it over the vanity stool. Then, she noticed there was something else in the box. Reaching inside, she pulled out a black mask with red jewels and feathers attached. Glancing into the mirror, Vallica held the mask up to her face.
The last time Sire had hosted a masquerade ball was some twenty years ago. She lowered the mask and set it on the vanity. If Silas wanted to dress her like a doll, she would let him. But once she found an opportunity, she would strike him, again.
And this time, she would make sure he was dead.
~*~
Silas watched as people poured into the throne room wearing their finest clothes. Two soldiers stood by the doorway and gifted each guest with a mask in the color of their choosing. Upon entering, most of the guests made their way over to pour a goblet from one of the fourteen barrels of wine that lined the wall. Silas had spared no expense for this evening’s food and entertainment. He had been planning his return for quite some time and wanted to make a statement among his supporters and his adversaries.
The most challenging part of the day had been ridding the throne room of the dark and drab décor that Vallica had smothered it in. Sire’s royal colors were now prominently visible among the shields, banners, and tapestries that lined the wall as well as the linen atop the long tables on the far side of the room.
To keep his return a surprise, Silas had sent his requests and invitations under Vallica’s name. No one in the kingdom, other than Vallica, was aware that their king was still alive, thanks to Larkin’s magic. For now, the mask Silas was wearing would shield his identity until the very moment of his choosing.
The musicians began to play an enjoyable tune, bringing dozens of guests to the center of the room to dance. Silas joined in, delighted that his disguise was working. He waltzed around the room, admiring the many beautiful ladies in attendance. After the second song, Silas was distracted by the woman standing in the doorway.
Vallica was wearing the gown and mask that he had left for her. He knew that she would. His wife had never been one to deny a pretty gift, especially one made of fine Labaran silk. And the gown certainly enhanced her beauty. Her tall, slim figure had been the first thing that drew him to Vallica. He had always preferred taller women with long legs to wrap around him. And her smooth black hair was another thing that he admired. Silas made his way over to her. He didn’t speak but reached out his hand. She took it and let him lead her out to the floor.
“I know it’s you,” Vallica said. “I could smell your arrogance from across the room.”
“Ah, but it’s your scent that I find so tantalizing,” Silas said, sniffing her hair as he jerked her close. His grip on her hand and back were tight, but Vallica didn’t flinch.
“I find it strange that you have decided to mask yourself at a celebration for your own return.”
“All in good time, my dear.”
“Your mild temperament isn’t fooling me. I’ve seen this performance before. You pretend that you aren’t angry with me, for a time, then you lash out when I least expect it.”
“Is that so?” Silas replied, somewhat amused as Vallica spun away from him, then returned.
“It won’t work. Not this time. I am no longer your submissive wife.”
“No, clearly you aren’t.”
Vallica shot her gaze up into his eyes, barely visible behind his mask.
“Surprised, husband? That I could be as much of a tyrant ruler as you were?” She could very well expose his identity by saying his name. But even though she wanted to exact her revenge, she was also curious as to Silas’ strange behavior.
“Surprised, perhaps, but mostly fascinated by the heartless shell that you’ve become.”
“Well, my dear,” she mimicked, “I did learn from the best.”
Silas smiled and leaned forward, dipping her low, and drawing attention from neighboring dancers. Vallica glared at him from behind her mask. The hungry look his eyes were giving her should have been unnerving but for reasons she couldn’t explain, it only made her more curious about his intentions.
She kept her eyes locked with his as he pulled her back up to standing. This time, it was she that tightened her hold on his hand and shoulder.
“If you think that seducing me is going to somehow break me, you are mistaken.”
“Oh, my dear. I doubt there is anything still inside you that is worth breaking.”
Silas spun her away again, only instead of pulling her back in, he held her hand and escorted her across the floor. Once he reached the throne, he turned them both to face the crowded room. Most of the guests were already watching them, sensing that something was about to happen. Silas kissed Vallica’s hand and released it. Then, he reached up and pulled off his mask. His handsome face was smiling and, for a moment, Vallica almost forgot how much she despised him.
Gasps could be heard around the room. The music stopped and anyone who wasn’t already watching became aware of their king, very much alive, and standing in front of his throne. Immediately, the guests began to kneel.
“Greetings!” Silas exclaimed, motioning for his audience to rise. “Though, I’m sure many of you are confused by my presence, I would prefer not to dampen the celebration with frivolous tales.” Glancing over at Vallica, Silas continued, “I am confident that my loyal subjects continued to support my wife, your queen, during my absence. For those of you who chose not to, you will be dealt with, accordingly.”
Vallica smirked and shook her head. It would have been all too easy for him to accuse her of treason. The soldiers who had been in the room during Silas’ last night in Sire were witness
to Vallica stabbing her husband. The entire kingdom knew it to be true. However, Silas made no mention of this.
She turned and looked out at the guests. She knew, very well, which subjects he was referring to. The moment that word spread of Silas’ demise, several of his closest supporters either fled the kingdom or began to hide their assets and money. Simon was able to collect from the majority of them because he knew where to look and who to trust. But once Simon was dead, Vallica had to rely on Sire’s tax collectors, who were cowards and fools. Sire’s revenue was nearly cut in half, but she had carried on as if nothing was wrong. Silas’ returning, as detrimental as it was to her position, was actually a convenience in regards to the kingdom’s finances.
Lost in thought, Vallica didn’t hear the end of Silas’ speech. It was the music beginning to play again that brought her back to the present. Two daughters of noble families came forward to greet the king, making flirty gestures toward him. Silas swatted them away, without a second glance.
After several goblets of wine, Vallica made her way out onto the terrace. The crisp air was cool and refreshing, a great contrast to the stuffiness inside. She could hear him approaching from behind her, but she didn’t move. Silas slipped his arms around her waist and leaned in to nip at her ear. Vallica tried to ignore him, but she was finding it more and more difficult to deny the intense attraction she was having to her husband. The man she hated most in this realm. The man she tried to kill.
“Do you expect me to believe that you’ve suddenly had a change of heart?” she asked.
“Of course not,” he replied, spinning her around to face him. “That would insinuate that I still have a heart to change.”
“And what about your precious Cicilly?” Vallica asked, faking a pout. “Whatever will she do without you, forcing yourself upon her?”
Silas reached up and pulled Vallica’s mask off. The way he was looking at her, paired with the shadows of the night on his face made him look even more dangerous than she already knew him to be. He, literally, held her life in his hands. At any moment, he could order her execution. She didn’t put it past him to simply kill her, himself. She would deserve nothing less for attempting to murder her king. Yet, here he was, eyeing her like a beast would eye its prey.