Queen Elizabeth of Arrandelle, mother of King Adrian, had spent the last months away from the palace. Her grief and guilt over Princess Emelia's tragic miscarriage weighed heavily on her. She believed she had failed her son Prince Eric and his gentle wife. Leaving the palace felt like punishment or a self-imposed exile.
She has stayed with Eric and Emelia since then, taking care of them, and helping them heal. Emelia's womb had been damaged, and the hope of children slipped from her hands. Elizabeth spent long nights beside her, comforting her, and wishing she could turn back time.
When the messenger arrived at Eric's household, Elizabeth was in the garden trimming rose branches.
"My Queen Mother," the messenger bowed. "News from Arrandelle."
Elizabeth straightened, surprised. "Has something happened?"
"The kingdom celebrates," the young messenger said with a wide smile. "Her Majesty Queen Athalia is with child."
The shears fell from Elizabeth's hands and struck the ground with a soft thud.
Eric stepped out from behind the pillars, having overheard. "Mother?"
Elizabeth pressed a trembling hand to her chest. "Athalia… is pregnant?"
"Yes," the messenger said. "Three months along. His Majesty has announced it officially."
Elizabeth's first reaction was not joy. It was fear.
"What if the child…" She swallowed. "What if something happens again? What if another tragedy occurs under my watch?"
Emelia walked toward her slowly, gentle as ever. She placed a calming hand on Elizabeth's arm.
"Mother," Emelia said softly, "you cannot carry this guilt forever."
"You do not blame me," Elizabeth whispered, "yet I blame myself every day."
Eric stepped closer. "Mother., you should return and Athalia will need guidance. She may be proud, but she is still new to this role and Father is not here to look after her. Adrian cannot do it alone."
Elizabeth hesitated. She had never fully warmed to Athalia. Something about the young woman felt distant as it was too graceful, too composed, and too unreadable. A queen sculpted from marble rather than flesh.
Emelia added, "It does not matter whether you like her. She carries the future of Arrandelle. The child deserves your protection just as Eric and I deserved it."
Elizabeth lowered her gaze. "I failed you," she murmured.
"You comforted us," Emelia replied, her voice filled with kindness. "And I am asking you to go back. Stand beside her. Do not let the past repeat itself."
'Are you sure? What about your herbs and…"
Eric nodded. "We want you to go, mother. We will be fine."
Queen Elizabeth inhaled slowly, gathering strength. "Very well then. I will return to Arrandelle."
She lifted her chin with quiet resolve.
"I will not fail this child."
When Queen Elizabeth arrived at the palace gates, the guards straightened in surprise. A horn sounded, and the doors opened for her entrance. Servants rushed forward to greet her, bowing as she passed.
Inside the grand hall, King Adrian waited.
"Mother," he said, relief filling his voice. "You came. I've missed you."
"I heard the news." She touched his cheek lightly, studying him. "You look… overwhelmed."
He exhaled. "I am happy. But Athalia is weak. She hides it, but I can see it."
Elizabeth's brows drew together. "Where is she?"
"In her room. Lira is with her."
They walked together through the palace corridors. Queen Elizabeth's memories stirred as years of ruling beside her husband, raising her sons, and watching the kingdom prosper felt. Returning now felt strange, like stepping back into a story unfinished.
At the door, Adrian paused. "She doesn't know you're coming."
"Then it will be a true surprise," Elizabeth said.
He knocked lightly and opened the door.
Queen Athalia sat by the window, wrapped in a pale silk shawl. She looked fragile and elegant, her posture straight despite her visible fatigue. Her skin had grown paler in recent weeks, but her eyes still held their deep, and calculating calm.
When Elizabeth entered, Athalia's spine stiffened.
"Your Majesty," Athalia said, rising with effort. "You returned."
Elizabeth approached slowly. "You should not stand. Sit."
Athalia obeyed, though she did so with a guarded expression.
Elizabeth studied her closely. "You look… thinner."
Athalia forced a small smile. "Pregnancy affects each woman differently, i guess."
Elizabeth did not return the smile. "You hid this for three months. Why?"
Athalia lowered her gaze. "After Emelia's loss, I feared what people might say. I feared what could happen if I spoke too soon."
Elizabeth nodded slowly. "The kingdom understands that. But I wish you had told us."
Athalia's hand rested lightly over her stomach. "I needed to be sure the child would survive."
Something in her voice trembled, just enough to seem genuine.
Elizabeth's expression softened a little. "Then let me help you now."
Athalia looked up, surprised.
"I may not have been present for you before," Elizabeth continued, "but I will not repeat my mistakes. You are carrying my grandchild and i will take care of you"
Athalia blinked, and for a moment, a flicker of emotion crossed her face, but something unreadable.
Adrian stepped forward and placed a hand on Athalia's shoulder. "Mother wishes to stay until the birth."
Athalia nodded politely. "Of course."
But her fingers tightened around the fabric of her gown.
She had not expected the Queen Mother's return and she had not prepared for the scrutiny.
And the days that followed carried a new rhythm.
For weeks after the Queen Mother's return, the palace lived under a warm, hopeful glow. Queen Athalia's pregnancy was now known by everyone from the nobles of the inner court to the old women who sold herbs at the market gates.
The kingdom had not welcomed an heir in many years; the joy was genuine and widespread. Banners were hung from the towers. The palace kitchens worked tirelessly, preparing sweet pastries filled with honey and spiced fruit which was a treat believed to bring good luck to unborn children.
Everywhere Athalia walked, people bowed lower than usual, smiling with open admiration. She had become a symbol of grace, hope, and continuity. And for a time, she enjoyed the peace. The days that followed carried a new rhythm.
Elizabeth took charge of Athalia's care like arranging her meals, supervising the palace physicians, adjusting her schedule, and insisting she rest more often. Athalia endured it with calm composure, though she disliked the constant attention.
She had spent months hiding the truth and controlling every detail. Now her privacy shrank like water in a tightening bowl. Still, she played the role of the grateful queen. At dinner, Queen Elizabeth asked, "Are the healers treating you well?" "Yes,"
Athalia replied gently. "They are attentive."
"You should not walk the southern garden stairs," Elizabeth cautioned. "They are steep."
"I will avoid them."
"And no more skipping meals."
Athalia smiled faintly.
"I promise, Your Majesty."
Elizabeth gave her an approving nod. "Good."
Adrian watched the exchange with a mixture of relief and concern. Athalia rarely agreed so easily. After dinner, when they returned to their chambers, Adrian touched her hand.
"It is good that she is here." Athalia faced him with soft composure.
"Yes. It eases your worries." "It should ease yours too," he said.
She held his gaze.
"Perhaps it will."
But deep inside, Athalia felt the child twisting in warning. She felt exposed, observed and at risk. Elizabeth's presence brought comfort to Adrian but complications for her.
Everyone celebrated her pregnancy and welcomed her child, but Athalia knew the truth. This child was not a blessing, but a curse only her bore. And now the Queen Mother has returned just when Athalia needed secrecy the most.
One late afternoon, Athalia stepped onto the balcony for air. The courtyard below bustled with servants finishing their evening tasks. Her vision blurred for a moment, but she steadied herself on the railing. She had been reviewing reports with her secretary, a young steward named Telor. He had just left the room to fetch additional documents when Athalia stepped outside for a moment of air.
A steady wind blew across the palace, and she closed her eyes, letting the cool breeze ease the ache in her chest. Then she heard it.
It was a whisper. Not near her or behind her but from far below in the courtyard.
"These new court policies are a disaster. The king is too trusting, and the queen…that woman changes things she should not…"one muttered.
"The king listens to her far too much." "She's only making things worse," the other replied.
"She's also pale as a ghost and weak as pregnant women should. I say she's unfit for court matters right now."
Athalia's eyes sharpened.
She had always heard whispers of gossip that was a constant echo in court but this time she heard every word with unnatural clarity from a distance. Their voices felt magnified inside her mind.
"Did I just hear them speak?" she whispered to herself.