Alvira stood frozen in the alleyway, the queen's gaze pinning her in place. The weight of her secret pressed against her chest like a physical force, and she knew, with terrifying certainty, that revealing her connection to Theo was not an option—not yet.
"I asked a question," the queen reiterated, her tone firm, a regal demand laced with the subtle, deep current of a mother's concern.
Alvira exchanged a fleeting, desperate glance with Klara, who stood beside her, eyes wide with a mix of fear and unwavering loyalty. Alvira knew her friend would never betray her, especially not to the queen, but Klara's honesty was as legendary as her beauty. The tension in the air was palpable, thick enough to cut with a knife.
"I sneaked out to gather some herbs for my spell practice," Alvira blurted out, her voice trembling slightly. It was a flimsy excuse, a transparent shield against the queen's scrutiny, but it was all she had.
"Is that true, Klara?" the queen pressed, her gaze shifting to the other girl. Klara froze, panic etching itself across her beautiful features. Her silence was deafening, a testament to her inability to lie to her sovereign. Her eyes darted to Alvira, a silent plea for help, for a way out of this impossible situation.
Alvira remained silent, her heart hammering against her ribs. The pause stretched agonizingly.
"It's getting late, Klara. You should head home," the queen finally said, her voice softening, a clear dismissal that spared the girl a direct lie. Klara bowed her head in thanks, casting one last worried glance at Alvira before slipping away into the deepening shadows of the evening.
As the queen and Alvira walked side by side toward their home, the silence between them was thick and uncomfortable. The streets were alive with the evening sounds of the vibrant village, but all Alvira could hear was the frantic echo of her own heartbeat. People bowed reverently as they passed, their faces a mix of respect and curiosity about the tense interaction. Her mother smiled graciously, the perfect mask of a composed ruler that belied the turmoil Alvira knew lay beneath the surface.
Alvira watched her mother's profile, remembering the stories. After her father's death, the queen had become a beacon of strength, turning away countless suitors who sought her hand and the power it represented. Alvira admired her mother's resolve; it was a testament to the profound love they had shared. Her grandparents had disapproved of her mother's marriage to a man of humble means, but their love had triumphed over all societal expectations. It was a story Alvira cherished, one that fueled her own desperate dreams of love and acceptance with the forbidden Theo.
"I truly hope you are not involved in something dangerous, Alvira," her mother said quietly, her voice tinged with a deep, maternal concern as they approached their front door.
"You have nothing to worry about, Mother," Alvira replied, forcing a fragile smile as her mother pulled her into a warm embrace. The familiar, comforting scent of lavender enveloped her, momentarily easing the physical tension in her chest.
Just then, a young lady named Rita rushed up to them, her expression urgent and harried. "I'm sorry for interrupting you, my queen, but something urgent has come up that requires your immediate attention."
Alvira's mother released her, her expression shifting instantly into that of the monarch. She cast one last lingering, analytical look at her daughter before following Rita away into the gathering dusk. Alone now, Alvira made her way into their house, her mind racing with thoughts of the day's precarious events.
As she opened the door, her younger brother, Leo, came barreling toward her, his small frame bursting with the restless energy of a ten-year-old. In just five short years, he would inherit the mantle of seer—a powerful gift that had manifested when he was only five. His visions were uncanny, often prophetic, and they had a way of chillingly coming true, leaving the townsfolk in awe and fear alike. He was a child one moment, an ancient soul the next.
His innocent brown eyes, usually full of childish mischief, searched hers now, filled with a disarming mixture of curiosity and profound concern.
"Did the wolf make my sister sad?" he asked, his voice a soft, knowing whisper that caught Alvira completely off guard.
Alvira knelt down to her brother's height, her heart pounding a heavy rhythm. She stared at him, a cold spike of fear piercing her core. Had he seen her with Theo? Her brother's visions were rarely wrong. The consequences of a seer revealing her secret would be catastrophic.
"How about we have dinner and head to bed?" she suggested quickly, forcing a lightness into her voice she didn't feel.
Leo just shrugged, the picture of a typical ten-year-old, his momentary wisdom vanishing as quickly as it had arrived. But as she led him to the kitchen, Alvira couldn't shake the chill of his question. The seer might have shrugged it off for now, but the knowledge was in him, waiting. The walls of her life were closing in, and the darkness she was chasing was rapidly catching up.