A heart crunching cry, resounding through the night – a moonless one. She ran, ignoring her aching feet and deep gasp as the light became her guide. Follow the light, the white light. The chant echoed through her mind. Hundreds of trees with knife-sharp branches. Unveiling skin. Clawing gown.
She didn't stop, she didn't dare. It was vivid: the soldiers, the swords, and the pikes.
Below her chest, a bundle sat. Close. Near her heart. Her life. Every twenty steps she checked. Still there. Still humming. Again and again. She wanted to turn. To look back. But she couldn't, for her life was not her own. The bundle. Half of her was inside the bundle. Fire, Smoke, and flaming branches. Falling. Exploding in sparks. Her feet quick, dusting the dirt, scraping past the flame. She checked again. Still save. That was all she cared.
"THE HERO HAS WON, WE WON"
Spears risen. Arrows tore the sky. A Celebration. Yet, not once she halted. Her tear painting the ground. Dropping with embers. The inferno, it bloomed. Rose between woods of giant. Stealing her breath, drowning her lungs with cinders. More. A little more. She needed to hasten. To escape. Away from this hellish place. Then…
She stopped. For the first time. Braving her heart to look back one last time. Burning trees, orange flames, and the air too thick to see past. But still, the castle. A tiny speck stood behind all of them. Her vanguard.
Her gaze darted around. No chase. No soldiers. No steps closing in. She sighed. Choking on ash. Again, she checked the bundle. Eyes like marble, tiny hands unable to grab her finger. Tears? No… she can't cry. Her child will cry too.
Hmm!
Something was wrong. She was not sure. Looking back, it was too easy. No barrier, no soldier spotted her. Her instinct flared, suspicion flickered. What was the trigger? Was it the soot she smelled, Or the echoes of collapsing trees. No…was it the light, the white light? Did her guide betray her? What-?
"I greet…
"WHO'S THERE"
She shouted, pointing her hand at random. Her magic - stroking the tip of her finger. Control, Angelica control. One slip and they would know.
"I greet ye, me queen…"
A voice. One she never heard before. She glanced - a man stood near a burning stump. His black tuxedo gleamed in the firelight, hands playing the flame clad in white gloves. Too clean. A mask veiled his face, black and white split down in the middle: Half a smile, half a frown, carved across hiding his eyes and mouth.
A Jester? A threat under sheep cover?
"Who… who are you?" She shook, arm circling around the bundle
"A friend. One of your husband's…"
'NO'
Her hug tightened. She couldn't accept. He was a threat, just from his voice alone. What kind of savior speaking like a wet towel strapped inside his mouth. A Monster. He must be one of the hero's friends. Was it the rogue? He must the rogue. Sent here after they broke the illusion. Even if the rogue was a woman - what was stopping her from changing her gender?
"No. you are 'NOT' his friend? Why are you here then. WHY. Lies, LIER!"
"I am not his general, me queen. The boy, the most important…"
"NO" she curled "Not the boy. NEVER"
Take her, rape her, kill her. Throw her carcass into the river. Anything. But not the boy. Never. That hands. That white gloves. What would he do to her boy?
"Me queen, please"
"NO"
"Latundra Scarf…"
Her eyes blazed, pausing her mid motion
"No…"
"The bundle. A present forged and gifted by the one above the anvil. Two years ago…to celebrate the pregnancy. Me queen, your unsettling eyes wound me. Smell, me queen. Smell your husbands trust in me"
Smell. She had forgotten to smell. Until now she refrained herself from breathing. Ash dug so deep inside her chest even one whiff would burn her lungs. Inside out. But it wasn't the ash she feared – the pain. It would surely stroke her down. Who's going to protect her baby then?
"Me queen… trust me" He turned to begging. But why?
One slip. Just once. One whiffed - that's it. As the air squeezing past her nostril - Aghk – She rocked, pain jolted across her heart. She couldn't…not a muscle. The bundle hardened, solid under her grasp. She could feel her own feet handing her body to the ash-covered ground. Too brittle. Unfit to carry the burden.
Yet, among all those sensations. Ink. Sweet, edged with cinnamon. That smell - he was telling the truth. Only man can produce that fragrance.
"My husband…"
"Yes, your husband. The king. We signed a deal"
"Then why?" Her grip faltered "Why don't you help him? What deal could matter more than his own life?"
"He didn't tell you?" He stepped back
"How much did he tell you?"
"He told me enough"
"Enough that you don't know the reason behind his demise?"
The question cut deep. No. Her love never told her. Not once, not ever. She was his queen. Suddenly, the words felt hollow. It must be a mistake. Even for him, knowing everything that would happen was impossible. She knows him, and she knows the stake.
A chirping of birds strayed pass, leaving her question un answered. The fire. Did the humans finally put down the fire?
"Me queen, do you wish to know?" She nodded. Slow. Lifeless "Then enter my chariot. You and the boy, both. Not once you two would be separated. Only us three. You, me and the boy"
Did she even have other option?
"Follow me"
She trailed behind him as he walked. Noticing the destruction. The dark sky, tainted by the lingering smoke. Log and charcoal, sprawling through the forest floor as her feet stepped against the ash carpet, leaving a trail of white. She winced at the stillness. Her eyes following the embers as they descend, hand closing the bundle as she checked it again - to make sure. Humans. Their cruelty knows no bounds.
"We are here"
They arrived, in front stood a carriage, gleaming - untouched by fire. A crest she never seen before adorned the black door: a mask stabbed by a sword. Secrecy. Submission. Reeks with infiltration. Could it even crawl under the human radar?
Well, It doesn't matter. She and the boy were now stuck following his jog. Tiny creak, the door opened. His hand on the handle. Deliberate. She entered as slow as possible. Welcoming her was a scent of rose, burgundy sofa curving around the chariot's interior. She plopped down, back against the cotton. And with clack, the door closed. Leaving them both alone. She wouldn't be tempted even by such sweet prison.
"Everything fine me queen?" She didn't answer. The carriage shook "Let me introduce myself then. My name was Joker. Joker Claremont. I was here by the deal with your husband. First…" CRASH… a whip slash past. She yelped, covering the bundle as the curtain swayed and the carriage moved beneath her "…to save. The king decreed for me to save you both. The second, to Infiltrate. My house was Claremont. Viscount Claremont. You shall be Viscountess, Angelica Claremont. And the boy…"
"Altaris"
"Yes, Altaris. A magnificent name for a magnificent future. Altaris, Altaris Claremont"
Hearing the verdict, she flicked the curtain. For her, was Angelica Claremont. Mother of Altaris Claremont