Within the quarters of Queen Melissa, panic hung in the air like an aimed dagger. She paced, her robe sweeping the floor with every turn. Her eyes were fixed on the wall clock.
"Why isn't he here already?" She snapped, but Paula had no answer.
Today's court meeting was crucial. It was a breaking point for her and her son—nothing could go wrong.
"Theron better not swallow his words," she sighed worriedly.
Within the throne room of the forgotten court, Prince Rowan sat silent, his hands resting on his throne, and his piercing gaze settled on the court officials.
"We can't continue in this way. Your father did it, everyone had it done, so why should your case be different?" George Fineland roared. A few murmurs followed, but Rowan remained quiet.
From the corner, Prince Theron smiled, then his lips parted.
"As crown prince, you should know these things, brother. Our father had to marry another. Sooner or later, you will take a concubine—so why not now?"
Rowan's eyes sliced through the room like an eagle.
"So we turn him into a lab rat?" He asked, and everyone was quiet.
"You all talk of taking a concubine, disposing of my consort, and condemning him to a curse he knows nothing of," he smiled, then turned to George Fineland—a man known for his promiscuous ways and numerous children.
"As a father, why don't you give me one of your children? I will marry them, and after the curse is broken, it will all be over."
"Nonsense! No child of mine will be a sacrificial lamb," he hissed.
Rowan smirked.
"No child of yours would be the lamb, but now you are condemning another to that fate. Doesn't he deserve to live?"
Silence sliced through the roof like lightning. Theron, who was enjoying every bit of the show, stood up and walked over to Rowan. He descended to his level, his face carrying the most superficial remorse.
"Brother," he sighed, taking Rowan's hands into his. "I know this is hard. We all know the consequences if there is no bloodline to follow soon. The ancient teachings of the gods reside in our bones—we can't risk it now… not for one person."
Rowan raised his head to the ceiling, fighting the tears that threatened to fall. Part of him was gone. He had bragged to Elias, but he didn't remember. But the hurt in his eyes could never be faked.
"Take another consort. Help your people flee this curse," Theron urged further.
Rowan's hands clenched, but that was all he could do.
The meeting soon came to an end—or rather, the sermon. Rowan watched them leave. He had just suffered humiliation; he wasn't going to recover from it.
Queen Melissa watched her son walk in with a smile. She could tell that everything had gone well.
"Did he…" she watched with anticipation.
"He did not promise to dispose of the consort, but with the pressure the court is putting on him, it is only a matter of time," Theron replied, sitting. Queen Melissa smiled.
"When he was announced crippled, I had brought up the option of replacing him as the crown prince, but the court turned me down. They all thought I was doing it for selfish gains, but now they will come to see—a man on a wheel cannot run the kingdom."
Theron stood up and stepped forward.
"This is only the beginning. From now on, death would be what he wished for," he laughed, his eyes beaming wickedly as his mother joined in.
Within the Western Tower sat Consort Elias—a silent soul. The yard teemed with servants, but he found no warmth. He was now seen as the castaway. A deposed consort. Something he had feared was now happening. He needed nothing.
The court demanded an heir. The news spread rather quickly, but not only did they demand an heir, they also demanded another consort. He was officially the sacrificial lamb.
Elias stood for the first time since he woke. He had been tied to his bed, but now his bones felt rather weak from resting all day. His stomach occasionally hurt. The stabbing pain would keep him bent over for minutes, if not an hour, before it subsided. It was new. But not sensing his rut, he was quick to conclude.
He walked over to the balcony. Unlike his previous shared chamber with the prince, this one had a better view of the kingdom. He smiled bitterly.
Hours passed, and Elias just sat moon-gazing. He wished he had died from the poison; he regretted taking the hands of the stranger, but then… There were all his choices, and now it was too late. The air was cold and harsh, and he had so little on. Sonia and the rest of the servants had retired to the servants' quarters.
Kim walked in with a cloak.
"You shouldn't be in the cold," he said, putting the cloak over him.
"You're hurting," Kim finally said.
Elias turned to him, his eyes soft but cold.
"What's left?" he demanded, but Kim had no answers.
"He won't look me in the face. The court wants me out, and me… I feel like everything is going astray," he sighed, then stood up.
Kim walked behind him as they headed towards the door. Elias held the cloak around his fragile body, slowly walking through the same hallway rumored to be haunted.
"Kim," he called, and without delay, Kim answered.
"Yes, Consort?"
Elias chuckled.
"Elias," he corrected, and Kim nodded.
"I thought I had it all figured out. I thought I had the strength to withstand it all. But right now… I am a mess of my own decisions. I shouldn't be feeling this way. I shouldn't be confused. But then, here I am." He sighed heavily as they approached a huge door.
Kim stepped forward, pushing it open. Elias's eyes lit up within seconds.
"A library?" He chuckled and walked in without a second thought.
Within the shadows, Rowan watched—his eyes and mind longing, but his body wouldn't move.
"We should stop him." Blake stepped forward as Elias walked into the library, but Rowan held him back.
"I can't face him… The truth is not something I can bring myself to say."
Blake turned, his eyes burning with fury.
"So you will let him discover it on his own?" he hissed, but Rowan couldn't say otherwise.
"It's for the betterment of everyone," he added, then turned the wheel.
"I don't know what you think you are doing, but it's about time you stood up and stopped this charade. You are not crippled," Blake barged, watching him wheel away.
Rowan's hands tightened on the wheel, but he nodded.
"It's time to face reality."