CHAPTER-THREE
1090 Words
The horn sounded again. Loud. Sharp. Urgent. It echoed through the palace like a warning. Like a cry. Queen Seraphina felt her heart slam against her ribs as she hurried down the grand staircase. Her silk robe flowed behind her as she moved with quick, anxious steps.
Servants peeked from behind pillars. Guards tightened their grips on their spears. The air felt tense, like the palace itself had stopped breathing.
In the courtyard, the heavy gates were already open. A lone rider galloped inside. His horse was drenched in sweat. His cloak was torn. Dust clung to his boots and hair. He looked like he had ridden through the night without rest.
Seraphina stepped into the dawn light. Her presence made every soldier straighten. The messenger slid off his horse and knelt before her.
“Your Majesty, I bring word from King Eric.”
Seraphina’s breath caught. “Speak.”
He placed a sealed scroll in her hands. Her fingers trembled slightly, though her face remained calm. She broke the seal and unrolled the parchment. Her eyes moved across the words quickly.
The king and his army had reached the northern ridge.
Enemy scouts had appeared but were quickly defeated.
The army remained strong and prepared.
The king sent her his love and his promise to return safely.
A wave of relief washed over her. For a moment, she closed her eyes. “Thank the heavens.”
The soldiers around her relaxed. A few even smiled. Hope stirred through the courtyard.
But the messenger remained kneeling. Not rising. Not relieved. Seraphina noticed at once.
“There is more, is there not?”
He swallowed hard and lifted his head. “Yes, Your Majesty. But I was told to speak of it only to you.”
Seraphina nodded and turned to Lady Miriam. “Clear the courtyard.”
Within moments, the guards guided everyone away until only Seraphina, the messenger, and two royal guards remained.
“Now speak,” Seraphina said.
The messenger hesitated. Then he took a shaky breath. “Your Majesty, on the second night of the march, one of the watchmen reported seeing a hooded figure near the king’s tent.”
Seraphina’s heart stopped for one silent moment. “Near his tent? Who was it?”
“We do not know, Your Majesty. The figure moved quickly. When the guards approached, they disappeared into the forest. They left no footprints. No trace.”
Seraphina steadied her voice. “And what did King Eric say?”
“He told us it was probably a thief or a scout. But the watchman insisted there was something strange about the figure. They moved like someone who knew the camp. Someone who knew where the king slept.”
Seraphina felt a faint chill crawl up her spine. The morning air suddenly felt colder.
“Why was this not written in the scroll?”
The messenger lowered his eyes. “The king did not want to worry you. But the watchman feared it might be important and begged me to pass the message in secret.”
Seraphina nodded slowly. She handed the scroll back. “You have done well. Go to the infirmary and rest.”
After he left, she stood alone in the vast courtyard. Her heartbeat thudded heavily in her ears. The sun was rising now. Soft golden light washed over the palace walls. But all Seraphina felt was a growing shadow.
A hooded figure near the king’s tent.
Someone who knew the camp.
Someone close enough to slip through guards.
A traitor.
The word echoed through her mind like a whisper.
Sir Aldric approached from behind her. His steps were silent, but she felt his presence. “Your Majesty, I saw the messenger arrive. Is the king safe?”
Seraphina turned to him. Her eyes revealed a truth she did not speak. “Yes. For now.”
Aldric stepped closer. Then he saw the tension in her shoulders. “Something else happened, did it not?”
She hesitated, but Aldric had always been loyal. She trusted him as she trusted herself. She told him everything the messenger had said.
Aldric’s jaw tightened. “Someone near the king’s tent. At night. That is not a coincidence.”
“I know,” Seraphina said softly. “And it brings fear to my heart. We cannot ignore it.”
Aldric bowed his head. “I will question the scouts who returned last week. And the palace guards. If there is a traitor among us, we will uncover them.”
Seraphina nodded, but her gaze drifted toward the sky. A single dark cloud moved across the sun, as if warning her.
Throughout the day, the tension in the palace thickened. Rumors drifted through the halls like smoke. Servants whispered behind doors. Council members demanded updates. Villagers gathered at the palace gates, asking for news of the king.
Seraphina addressed them from the balcony. She assured them that the king was safe. The army was strong. The kingdom would not fall. Her words calmed them, but inside, she felt the fear growing like a storm hidden behind her ribs.
When evening came, the palace lights glowed warm against the darkening sky. But the air still felt heavy.
Seraphina retired to her chambers, but sleep refused to come. She sat at her window, watching the night sky. The moon was high. Stars glittered faintly behind thin clouds.
She wondered if Eric was awake too. If he looked at the same moon. If he thought of her. Or if danger was already creeping toward him in the shadows of the battlefield.
A gust of wind swept across the balcony. The torches flickered. One torch suddenly went out completely. The flame died with a soft hiss.
Seraphina frowned. The wind had brushed the others, but only one torch had extinguished. She stepped closer to the balcony rail.
The night was quiet.
Too quiet.
Then she heard it.
A whisper.
Soft. Faint. Like breath carried on the wind.
“Seraphina.”
Her blood ran cold. She froze in place. For a heartbeat, she could not move. Could not breathe.
The whisper came again. “Seraphina.”
It sounded like Eric.
She spun around. There was no one on the balcony. No shadows moving. No footsteps. Nothing.
Her chest tightened. Was it her imagination? Her fear? Or something far more dangerous?
She stepped backward until her shoulders touched the wall. Her heart pounded.
If that was Eric’s voice, then something terrible had already begun.
And it was coming for her.
- Writer
