The Mistreated Queen and Her Hidden Monarch

Meloria’s POV The cave on the mountain wasn’t as scary as the other villagers had always supposed it was. The path leading up there was the real horror—the steep climb, the sharp rocks under my feet, and the way the wind seemed to whisper warnings with every step I took higher. But even that wasn’t what terrified me the most. What truly frightened me was the thought of receiving my fate. I sat across from the old seer, my Twelve-year old hands resting uncertainly in my lap. Her hands, cold and trembling with age, hovered above my right palm for a long time. Too long. Long enough for my heartbeat to become something I could hear in my ears. Then, suddenly, she pulled away. I flinched without meaning to. “Is there something wrong?” I asked quietly, my voice barely more than a breath. The seer didn't answer right away. Instead, she traced a rough, calloused finger across the lines of my hand, lingering at the junction where my life and heart lines intersected. Then, her lips parted into a smile. It wasn't a comforting smile; it was wide, vacant, and so deeply unsettling that a sharp shiver sliced straight down my spine. “Child,” she finally said, her voice slow and uncertain, “your fate is unlike any I have ever seen.” My stomach tightened. “What do you mean, Seer? Am I cursed?” I leaned forward without realizing it. My curiosity outweighed my fear for just a moment. The cave felt colder then, like it was listening. She studied me for a long time before speaking again. “The king,” she said carefully. My breath caught. “You are destined to be with the king. Not just any king, not just any kingdom—but the ruler of Aurelius, the mighty world itself.” For a moment, I forgot how to breathe. “Really?” The word escaped me too quickly, too brightly. A smile broke across my face before I could stop it, and heat rushed to my cheeks. I lowered my gaze, suddenly shy at my own excitement. Royalty. It was something I had only ever dreamed about. Something I had only heard in stories told to village girls during winter nights, gathered around dying fires while snow pressed against the windows. And yet… it was happening to me. To Meloria. “How gracious,” I whispered, almost to myself, as if saying it aloud would make it more real. But then, just as quickly as it came, the happiness faded. A new thought crept in. Smaller. Sharper. “Would he love me?” The words left my mouth before I could stop them. I looked up. My smile was gone now, and I saw that the seer’s expression had changed too. Her silver eyes had become distant again, unreadable, like clouds covering the moon. “Love,” she repeated slowly, almost as if tasting the word. Like it was foreign to her. Like it didn’t belong in fate. “Meloria! Meloria!” My father’s voice suddenly echoed through the cave, sharp and impatient. I turned my head quickly toward the entrance. No shadow yet—he hadn’t entered. I turned back to the seer immediately. “Please,” I whispered urgently, moving closer. “Please tell me. Would he love me?” My voice cracked at the end, betraying me. And then— A hand wrapped tightly around my wrist. “Meloria!” My father had arrived. Before I could say another word, he dragged me out of the cave, my pleas swallowed by the stone walls behind me. --- Eleven years later, I walked down the long hallway toward the royal chamber where my husband, King Leon, had summoned me. Each step felt heavier than the last. The air itself felt wrong. And then I heard it. "Ughh...Ughh....yesss Your Majesty. Just like that." The moans of Seraphina echoed through the corridor like something sharp and mocking, like trumpets played out of tune during a funeral. My fingers tightened at my sides. Eleven years ago, I had believed that prophecy was a blessing. Now I knew better. It had never been a blessing. It was a curse wrapped in gold. King Leon of Aurelius—the man fate had bound me to—was not the man I had imagined. He was a monster dressed in royalty. A man who humiliated me openly, who broke me privately, and who slept with my maidens without shame. And yet he never hid it. Never once. Every time I caught him, every time I stood in front of him with proof of his betrayal, he would look at me as if I were nothing more than an inconvenience. “You are infertile, Meloria,” he would say coldly. “And that makes you useless in every aspect.” The words never changed. Only the way they sank deeper into me did. By now, they had become something I carried inside my chest like stone. As I reached the chamber doors, the guards bowed quickly. But even as they did, I noticed it—the brief exchange of glances between them, followed by lowered eyes. Pity. Or maybe discomfort. Either way, I hated it. I pushed the doors open. The sound inside stopped for half a second. My eyes immediately found Seraphina. She stood close to Leon, smirking as if she had already won something I wasn’t even aware I was competing for. She looked entirely out of place and yet perfectly comfortable, like she had always belonged there. She wasn’t like the others. Not a maid. Not a noblewoman. She had simply appeared one day, like a rumor that learned how to breathe. Some even said she came from the Evil Forest. I didn’t care enough to confirm it. I wasn’t here to solve mysteries. I was here to survive. To secure my place as queen. At all costs. “You summoned me,” I said, lifting my gaze to Leon. He didn’t look at me at first. Instead, he crossed the room slowly, his red robe dragging behind him like spilled wine over clean marble. His silence was deliberate. Punishing. “I did,” he finally replied. “What—” Before I could finish, he spoke again. “We are leaving for the Royal Court soon. The dukes are growing impatient. They want a solution to this problem you have created, Meloria.” My hands clenched so tightly around my dress that my knuckles turned white beneath the fabric. Problem. As if I were something broken. As if I had chosen this. My mind screamed at me. Oh, Meloria… what did you expect? Seraphina let out a soft, silent laugh beside him. My chest tightened. “What solution?” I asked slowly. Leon finally looked at me then. Cold. Detached. “A replacement,” he said simply. And in that moment, something inside me cracked—quietly, painfully, completely. As if my heart had finally learned what it meant to break.