Maria stood paralyzed, the echo of the slap and the slamming door still vibrating through the stone. Her initial flush of righteous fury had been replaced by a cold, paralyzing dread. She looked down at her hands, still trembling from the audacity of her action.
The air in the room grew instantly heavy, the candlelight wavering as the density of shadow coalesced near the hearth. Eldrin materialized, his presence radiating a chilling disapproval, far more potent than Aedric's residual anger.
"You have signed your own death warrant, Sunlight," Eldrin murmured, his voice a low,his voice a low, resonant note of disapproval. "You struck the King. That is not defiance; that is an act of political suicide and foolishness."
Maria turned, clutching the thick wool of her gown. "Foolish? I was honest. He treats me like a prisoner he purchased."
Eldrin's shadow leaned closer, his tone an icy reprimand. "You gave him too much truth, too much anger. He is not a man who can forgive a wound to his pride, Maria."
Maria sank onto the bench by the fire, wrapping her arms around herself. "He provoked me! He deserves it. He commands me like a dog, he forces me to sit beside his cold accomplice, he read Kael's letter, he spoke of me as an object, a child who pines for affection! He broke the sacred seal!"
"And he is still your King, Maria," Eldrin countered, his form leaning in, dominating the small space.
"You won the battle of words, but lost the stability of your position. Your tone, your disrespect, they fuel a fire in him far more dangerous than any you possess."
Maria lifted her tearless face, frustration burning in her eyes. "So I am to tolerate this cold oppression forever? Am I to simply smile while he speaks of burning women for being threats?"
"You are to live, Maria, and you are to secure the protection of your oath," Eldrin stated, his tone brooking no argument. "You won a moment of passion, but you risked everything. The North will never accept a queen who undermines its monarch. The King's authority is the only shield you currently possess."
He paused, and the air around him grew intensely cold, a sign of his deep concern. "That is the leverage he holds. Your defiance has drawn attention, but submission, at least the illusion of it can still save you."
Eldrin's presence intensified, forcing Maria to meet his gaze. "If you continue this path, he will assert his dominance in the harshest way he knows, not merely by threats, but by making you belong to him utterly, leaving you no choice but to submit. You must keep the King in your favor now, Maria. You must give him the illusion of control."
Maria's heart sank, her pride chafing against the bitter truth. "And he thinks... does he suspect me of Kael's schemes? That I—" Her voice faltered. "That I might aid him?"
Eldrin's shadow deepened. "He believes the merchant's tale, Maria. He sees Kael in your blood, your actions, and fears you side with him. That is all he knows, all he chooses to see."
Maria's chest tightened. "But it is only a rumor! Kael is my cousin, my blood!"
"And yet," Eldrin said, voice like ice, "rumor is enough for him. He fears it. He acts as if it were truth."
Maria realized her recklessness had not only angered Aedric but drawn suspicion over her family ties. Her defiance now risked more than her crown, it threatened Kael's safety too.
"What do I do?" she whispered.
"You must go to him," Eldrin commanded. "Find him, wherever Varin took him. You will apologize for your disrespect and assure him of your commitment to his law. You will speak of your duty, of the realm, and of your absolute obedience to him as king. Let him see only the obedient queen, not the defiant woman who struck him."
Maria recoiled. "Apologise? I cannot."
"You must," Eldrin insisted. "The price of your pride is too high. I can only protect you, little flame, if you listen to me. Your every action must be calculated, quiet, and absolutely compliant. You have stepped over a line that few who survived were allowed to cross. Go. Now. Before his rage settles into irreversible action."
Maria stood, her legs weak. Eldrin's words resonated with the hard truth of survival. She had been foolish, reckless, and dangerously human. She was Queen of Eldrath, and her life depended entirely on maintaining the fiction of her submission.
She nodded once, acknowledging the terrible necessity of the task. She smoothed her gown, took a steadying breath, and walked towards the door, ready to face the consequences of her fury.Maria quickly retrieved a shawl and left her chamber, her heart pounding with the terror of her forced submission. She descended the stairs, intent on finding Aedric, driven by Eldrin's urgent command to quell the King's rage immediately. She searched the dimly lit halls, her steps echoing against the cold stone. The silence that followed her felt deliberate, as if the walls themselves had been told to keep secrets from her. Her heart thudded, equal parts fear and defiance, as she reached the great doors leading to the council chamber.
She reached the royal corridor outside the King's private study, where his personal guard, Tarin, stood sentinel. Tarin was a man of few words and immovable duty, his expression always carved from the same grey stone as the castle walls.
"Tarin," Maria began, keeping her voice even and formal. "I require an audience with the King. Is he within his study, or with Lord Varin?"
Tarin did not move, his eyes fixed straight ahead. "His Majesty left the castle a quarter hour ago, Your Grace."
Maria froze. The timing was too sharp, too precise. "Left? Where did he go? Varin only just arrived."
"The western borders," he replied. "There was word of unrest near the mining provinces. He left at dawn."
She waited for more, for a letter or an order, a message of reassurance, anything, but Tarin's silence told her enough. He hadn't left word for her.
"Did he say when he will return?"
Tarin hesitated. "He said nothing, my queen."
"Did he leave any message for me?" she asked, the words barely a whisper.
"None, Your Grace. His commands were relayed to Captain Brynn only."
Maria's shoulders sagged, the forced energy draining out of her. She was left alone with the wreckage of her defiance and the chilling knowledge that her apology had been rejected by his absence.
The King's absence settled over the castle like a shroud. To the court, it was a necessary, urgent duty. To Maria, it was a profound, cold punishment. He had taken away her ability to submit, forcing her to stew in the agonizing uncertainty of his silent judgement.
She ate all her meals alone in her chambers, unable to bear the public scrutiny of the great hall. The heavy silence of her vast room was unbearable, so she requested company.
"Mara, Elara," Maria said quietly on the first night, gesturing to the small table where her meal was laid out. "Please, sit. The silence is too loud tonight."
The two maids looked at one another, startled. "Your Grace, we—"
"I said sit." Her voice broke halfway through, and that alone was enough to make them obey.
They hesitated before taking seats near her, their hands folded neatly on their laps. The table was spread as it always was with bread, stewed meat, and chickens, but everything tasted faintly of dust. Maria forced herself to eat, though each bite felt hollow. The maids exchanged nervous glances, unsure if they should speak.
After dinner, she dismissed them with a quiet "thank you" and sat by the window, watching the snow gather along the stone ledge. The sky beyond was black and endless. Eldrin had not appeared since that night, and the absence of his voice left her more exposed than she cared to admit.
Every moment was haunted by the fear of what Aedric would do upon his return. She constantly checked the corners of the room, looking for the familiar, cold presence, but Eldrin's shadow remained absent. He had stopped revealing himself entirely, leaving her without his counsel, his silent presence a further punishment for her foolishness.
Loneliness, acute and crushing, filled the chamber. Maria found herself staring at the empty chair across from her, not Aedric's, but the chair where Eldrin often lingered. She missed his cold hum, his judgement, anything to break the dreadful echo of her own thoughts.
By the morning of the third day, Maria felt consumed by melancholy. She had walked a dangerous line and was now paying the price, not with fire or chains, but with complete, isolating dread. She imagined Aedric, cold and deliberate, riding through the snow, using the distance to solidify his plan against her.
She felt a profound sadness, realizing she was mourning not just her isolation but the sudden, terrifying realization that the man she slapped was not a brute who would simply rage but a strategic, patient enemy who was now calculating her precise weakness. She was being punished with space, with silence, and with the complete withdrawal of all eyes, friendly or hostile.
The room creaked with the cold, her own breath the only sound left. Each hour stretched thin and quiet, and by the third day, Maria stopped pretending she wasn't waiting.
She waited while her food cooled. She waited through dawns that bled pale light across the frost-glazed courtyard. She waited until the sound of his boots on the marble became something she imagined, just to fill the silence that had grown too heavy to bear.