Iron Queen

Three

V I C T O R I A

The word fear did not fit the situation.

Far from it.

Perhaps apprehension. Apprehension toward whatever was about to come.

After being caught red-handed, the inevitable finally surfaced. Eliz quickly led us to a more private area—myself, the gray-haired gentleman, and his pair of guards, who watched me with anything but subtlety, as though they were taking note of every feature of my face, every imperfection in my skin, every uncertain step my feet dared to take.

My aunt and uncle left us to our privacy, and I hated them for deciding to respect my space at precisely that moment.

From the corner of my eye, I caught sight of Uncle Germano settling into a chair in the kitchen, seconds before a uniform adorned with military medals blocked my view and I found myself surrounded by strangers.

I sat down in one of the chairs near our small fireplace, waiting for an explanation, while the gray-haired man settled into an armchair across from me.

His thumb rested against his jaw, supporting the two fingers he used to rub his temple.

He was dressed differently from the others, wearing a refined dark tailcoat tailored to perfection, making me question just how important he truly was.

— I can’t believe I actually found you. That you’re real and sitting right here in front of me…

His first words made my eyebrows rise.

The sheer white organza curtains covering the windows swayed with the wind, causing the colors flooding the room to brighten and fade in shifting waves. They could have been there to save me. In another reality, perhaps they were.

— I have absolutely no idea why you think you know me.

His lips tightened into a thin line. His jaw flexed as he studied me carefully.

— I understand your point, and to be honest, I recognize that your reservations are justified. I believe we should make a few introductions before anything else. — His voice was calm and cautious, almost wise. — I am Lord Owen D’Kast, one of the Five Councilors.

My eyes widened instantly. We had learned about the Five back in school, their importance, their influence over the kingdom, and how they had assisted the dark-blooded rulers for centuries.

— That’s impossible.

My voice emerged weakly, dissolving into a faint echo against the room.

— I know it may be difficult to believe. But it is true. I’ve served as a councilor for thirty-five years.

I wanted to say I’m sorry.

Instead, I merely wrinkled my nose and remained silent.

— Why would a councilor from Vermenia—a northern nobleman—risk traveling all the way to the end of the world?

The question escaped me without hesitation. There was amusement in his gaze. Almost as though he had been waiting for that exact moment.

Waiting for an opening.

Waiting to give that answer.

— I’m here because of you, Victoria.

His eyes lit up.

— I traveled for four days to reach Golden Fox. I needed proof that my theories were correct, that my research had not been in vain. Amberly truly had a daughter…

— How does Your Grace know who my mother was?

What do you really want from me?

Even inside my own mind, my voice trembled. The question hurt parts of me I didn’t recognize. It made everything I thought I knew lose its weight. All my certainties floated around me.

— Everyone knows who your mother was. Don’t be naive.

He spoke of Amberly with certainty. As though he knew my mother better than I ever could.

— What? What are you talking about?

My confusion was so intense it felt tangible. He leaned forward, resting his hands on the ivory armchair.

His gaze found mine.

His eyes were storm clouds against the blue sky of my own. There was understanding in them and pity, as though he were seeing me clearly for the first time.

— You have no idea who your mother really was, do you?

— My mother was a seamstress. She met my father through her work, and they married and lived here in my aunt’s house—my father’s sister. Well… until she became ill and—

— Victoria…

Owen interrupted me. He stood and slowly crossed the room until he reached me.

His fingers touched the palm resting in my lap. A gesture of comfort, na act of kindness. A fragment of consolation.

— Your mother was not a seamstress. She was, and always has been, a Campbell. The older sister of the late King Fren.

He paused.

— I’m sorry.

Then he simply looked at me, a bitter silence stretched between us.

— Campbell?

My voice felt sharp enough to cut. The light around us flickered in scattered fragments. Light and darkness intertwining. The gravity that had kept my thoughts suspended suddenly vanished, and everything came crashing down onto my shoulders, had I been deceived for all seventeen years of my life?

About who I was.

About where I came from.

About who my parents really were.

This couldn’t be true. It wasn’t.

The man standing before me was simply a stranger with a beautiful story. A story that certainly wasn’t mine. It couldn’t belong to me.

— I’m sorry, but I think you’ve made a mistake.

I pulled away from his touch. Rising to my feet, I sought safety near the fireplace.

— Do you truly think I would come all this way only to be mistaken? I have solid evidence. Evidence I have spent months gathering and analyzing so I could be absolutely certain of who you are—and whether I should even be here.

He released a heavy sigh.

— If I’m standing here, it’s because it’s true. In any case, you’ll be able to draw your own conclusions soon enough.

I smiled, and I knew he saw the contempt shining across my face.

Not directed at him. At myself.

— I know you deserve to learn your true story. I just don’t think you’re ready to hear it yet. However, during one of my many searches for evidence, I found a letter your mother had intended for the King.

The man signaled one of his guards, who immediately handed him a folded document. Without hesitation, Owen placed the envelope into my hands.

— It’s yours. Do with it as you wish.

— Thank you.

It was all I could manage.

— We have much to discuss. But I understand you’ll need time to process everything I’ve told you.

For once, there was something we agreed on.

— I only need you to know one thing, and I want you to think about it. I need you to come north with me. More specifically, to the castle. I promise I’ll explain everything you wish to know once we arrive.

— I don’t even know you.

I shook my head.

— Leaving my home to travel north with strangers isn’t an option.

The lord couldn’t possibly be serious.

— I want what’s best for you, Victoria. I want to give you the life you were born to have but were denied. Unfortunately, I can’t stay long. I’ll be leaving for the capital tomorrow evening, and I’d very much like for you to come with me. If only to learn the truth about your history.

You are free to return if you wish. I tried to laugh.

But the sound emerged hollow. Mocking.

— Why did you decide to look for me only now? If you truly wanted to give me the life that was taken from me, you should have come sooner. You could have done something while there was still time.

For a moment, I thought I might break something.

Throw something at him.

Instead, I remained perfectly still, except for the trembling finger I pointed toward him.

— You’re here because there are no Campbells left. You’re here because you’ve decided you need me—not because you care about me.

— I’m asking someone destined for the throne to fulfill her fate.

The lights around me seemed to flare brighter for a moment.

The throne?

How could this possibly be happening? An hour ago, I was a girl living under my aunt and uncle’s roof with nowhere else to go. And now, somehow, I was the heir to a throne. He looked away from me and withdrew slightly, as though disappointment itself had burned him. Then he turned so quickly that I almost convinced myself he hadn’t noticed the tears gathering in my eyes.

— Funny. You only decide I’m an heir when it’s convenient.

The guards shifted uneasily. Their eyes lowered to spare their lord embarrassment.

But my chin remained raised.

Even when a tear slid down my cheek.

Even when the pressure inside my chest became unbearable.

For years, I had dreamed that someone would come save me.

A relative. A friend. A great love.

But no one ever came.

Not even when the pain became so overwhelming that I no longer wanted to continue.

Still, no one appeared.

And now I knew. They could have come, they could have changed my story.

But they didn’t. And if the royal family hadn’t been massacred, perhaps they never would have. The gray-haired man studied me with an unreadable expression, his hands were clasped behind his back now. He seemed farther away than ever.

— If you decide to accept my proposal and wish to learn more about…

He hesitated. His voice was neither harsh nor gentle.

— About everything.

A pause.

— I’ll remain in town until tomorrow. Waiting for you.

Goodbye, Victoria.

— Lord Owen…

He turned sharply, clearly hoping to hear a different answer.

— I’m sorry, but don’t count on it.

His body tensed. But he did not waver.

His small entourage and all their grandeur disappeared so quickly that I barely noticed, the door closed behind him. And I was left alone with the vast emptiness that had haunted me for years. Partly because I had never truly known who I was, partly because I felt so lost, so without purpose or destiny, that breathing itself became difficult. A gust of wind drifted through the window and filled my lungs. It felt like the longing for truth.

It rushed through me so quickly that I couldn’t resist it, and when I finally moved, I knew there was only one place left to search. The part of myself I feared most. My past.