BETRAYED QUEEN

Chapter 1

I had been born to wear a crown. Destiny itself seemed to have carved my path—betrothed to the Crown Prince of Elesaria as a child, moulded in languages, history, politics, and the art of war.

Not all queens are blessed with love. I was the exception.

Aldric and I had been a fairy tale made flesh. The nobles called us heaven's own design, watching two children grow into lovers, lovers into rulers. When we ascended the throne together, Elesaria flourished under our united reign—a kingdom built on partnership, trust, and what I foolishly believed was unbreakable love.

How naive I had been to think such perfection could last.

The emergency state meeting fell silent as death the moment

I entered. My husband—no, the King—sat watching me with the cold eyes of a stranger. I took my place beside him with practised grace, though his nervous energy crackled like lightning between us. His fingers drummed against the throne's armrest, betraying the calm mask he wore.

"My Queen," he said, the endearment now hollow as an empty grave.

I met his gaze unflinchingly. Let him see the woman he was about to destroy. "I must start by apologising—"

"Save your breath, Aldric." My voice could have cut glass. "I want nothing more from you. Not your apologies, not your explanations."

"Bronwyn, please—"

The High Priest's entrance severed his words, pressing down on the chamber like a burial shroud. Even the air seemed to hold its breath as Aldric rose, transformed from husband to executioner.

"Very well," his voice rang out, sealing my fate. "I wish to divorce Queen Bronwyn."

The assembly erupted in protest, their shock genuine despite knowing this moment was coming.

"Your Majesty, you must reconsider!" "Think of the realm! This will tear us apart!" Their pleas died against his stone heart. "It's already decided."

Final as a coffin nail. Silence fell like a shroud.

I remained motionless, a statue carved from dignity and defiance. They would not see me break. Not here. Not before them.

"As you wish, Your Majesty."

How does a queen beloved by her people find herself so utterly annihilated? How does a marriage forged in love become a public execution?

The answer is simple: it began with what seemed like mercy. A single act of misplaced compassion that would unravel everything I held dear.

This is how I lost my crown, my kingdom, my heart. This is ho w it all began all those months ago.

"What's wrong? What happened?"

The chill hit me before I'd even crossed the threshold. The moment I stepped back into my chambers, dread curled tight in my chest like a clenched fist. I tried to sound calm, but the tremor in my voice gave me away.

My ladies-in-waiting scrambled to mask their expressions, but I'd already caught the whispers as I approached the door. Nervous gossip, barely hushed, fizzing with tension. Something was very, very wrong.

They exchanged glances like guilty children, none of them willing to be the first to speak.

Thank the stars for Countess Eliza. She stepped forward with a modest curtsey and cleared her throat delicately.

"The King went hunting, Your Majesty..."

Even before she finished, I felt the blood drain from my face. My mind raced through every ghastly possibility.

"What happened? Did he fall? Did someone misfire a crossbow? Was it a boar? Did he take a wound? Is Aldric all right?"

"He is unharmed, Your Majesty," Laura blurted, eager to offer a sliver of relief.

My knees gave way, and I collapsed onto the nearest chair. I pressed a hand to the glittering corset at my ribs, willing my heart to slow. A silent prayer passed my lips.

But the room was still thick with unspoken dread. No one moved. No one breathed.

"If he's unhurt," I said slowly, eyeing them each in turn, "why do you all look like you're about to be sick?"

Lady Eliza stepped forward again, cheeks pink. "The king brought something back with him. From the woods. A woman. Though I doubt she qualifies as a lady , if you take my meaning."

Heat pricked my own cheeks. "He brought back... a woman ?"

The word stuck to my tongue like poison. I hated how thin my voice sounded. How fragile.

Technically, a King could wish to do as he pleased and take lovers if he so desired. But King Aldric and I had never so much as broached the topic. There was no need. We were enough for each other. More than enough. We were…partners. Lovers. Equals. Or so I had believed.

But another month had passed and I still had not produced an heir. Another month of my cursed crimson visitor. It had shown itself just the evening before, and I could tell Aldric had not been happy. I had hoped the disappointment would pass, but it seemed I was wrong.

Lady Eliza's voice returned, softer this time. "That's not the worst of it, Your Majesty. When he returned, he carried her — limp in his arms — back to the palace. He ordered us to wash the poor creature."

"I'm sorry," I said as I shook my head in disbelief. "Did you say wash her?"

My voice was sharp now. Accusatory. My ladies-in-waiting served me . It was an oath sworn and sealed by bloodlines and honour. For Aldric to commandeer them — to break that vow

— for some bedraggled harlot? It was unheard of.

I rose and stalked to the great window, my back to them. My reflection ghosted faintly in the glass.

"Who is she?"

"We're not sure," said another lady. "Her leg was caught in one of the gamekeeper's traps. The king found her there."

"Her leg ?"

"Yes. She was trapped. He…freed her." I let out a slow breath.

Of course. It made sense now. Aldric, ever the gallant king, had stumbled across some wretched creature in agony and, in a flush of compassion, saved her. A simple act of mercy. Honourable. Just. Kind.

That was the Aldric I knew.

I turned back to them, smiling tightly.

"Thank you, ladies. You've done your duty, as always. There's no need for concern. This was clearly a matter of chivalry, not impropriety. Lady Eliza, be a dear and draw my bath, would you?"

Eliza hesitated. Still wringing her hands. "What is it now?"

"There's... one more thing." My eyebrow twitched.

"She was beautiful, Your Majesty. Startlingly so. When she arrived, covered in filth, we barely noticed. But once she was clean..."

Another chill snaked down my spine. "How beautiful?"

"She reminded me of the Duchess of Betha, Your Majesty. In her youth."

I stared. "The Duchess of Betha? The one they say started a war just by existing? You must be joking."

"Of course, no one compares to your beauty," Vicountess Verdi chimed in, unhelpfully.

I ignored her. My beauty had always been... hard to place. With my dark waves and green eyes, I fancied myself rather striking . But when you're raised to rule, compliments are currency, not truth. Who could I trust to be honest?

Aldric. Aldric had made me feel beautiful. Desired. His hands, his mouth... God, the things we'd done together. My skin flushed just thinking of it.

But if this mystery woman rivalled the Duchess of b****y Betha, then any man might fall under her spell.

I closed my eyes. "Is there more?"

Lady Verdi looked like she wanted to melt into the floor. "The king... seemed quite taken with her."

I opened my eyes again, slowly.

"Taken with her? In what sense? He didn't watch her bathe, surely?"

"No, no, of course not! But he visited her afterwards. Sat with her. Tended her wounds. Touched her leg."

Touched her leg . The air left my lungs.

Aldric, my husband, doting over another woman. Tending to her wounds, caring for her well-being. In my palace. With my ladies-in-waiting. My skin prickled with betrayal.

Still, I drew myself upright. A queen must never flinch. Never falter.

"My husband is a good man. A just man. He has done what any ruler would do. If he believes she deserves protection... so be it."

The lie sat bitter on my tongue. But I had to say it. They'd gossip, of course — they were

ladies of the court after all. It's what they did. And if I let them see me c***k… No. I wouldn't give them that satisfaction.

But by morning, my resolve was in tatters.

As I stepped into the breakfast parlour, I caught the tail-end of their whispers.

"I heard she's a runaway slave. Got caught in the trap fleeing her master."

"If that's true, she ought to be returned. How humiliating for the king to take in someone like that ."

"Apparently, he cleaned her wound himself . Can you imagine? His hands, on her ?" My stomach turned.

This wasn't court intrigue. This wasn't politics. This was truth .

I smoothed my skirts, straightened my spine, and smiled.

"My husband has always been a man of compassion," I said brightly. "Your concern is noted, but entirely unnecessary." ~~~~

That evening, they dressed me like a goddess.

Velvet gown, the colour of midnight, curls pinned and perfumed, skin powdered and glimmering with diamonds and pearls.

"You look like the night sky herself, Your Majesty," Eliza gushed. "He won't be able to take his eyes off you. You'll win him back, I'm certain."

"I don't need to win my husband back," I snapped, before softening. "He is mine already. We are perfectly fine."

"Of course," she murmured.

But doubt festered in my belly like rot.

Had I displeased him? Had he grown bored? Was I no longer enough?

There had been issues with securing an heir, of course. And I knew Aldric was unhappy about that, but he'd never been angry with me. He'd just tease me and say that it meant we would just have to try more often.

Had he been hiding his true feelings over the matter all this time? No. I had to know. I would ask him. Tonight.

Aldric's blade screeched across his plate. I jumped.

Our dinners were usually warm, lively affairs. We'd talk for hours. Laugh. Plot. Dream.

Tonight? Silence. Pure and stifling.

He sat across from me at the long oak table, firelight l*****g the corners of his brooding face. His shoulders were stiff, jaw set like stone.

"How's the steak?" I ventured. "It's fine. And your salmon?" "Delicious, thank you."

More silence.

"Tell me about your week, husband dearest," I inquired. I kept my voice calm, even. I wanted to be careful not to betray what was on my mind—not quite yet. "Anything of note?"

He chewed. Swallowed.

"No. Fairly mundane, all told." Lies.

My fork froze halfway to my lips.

He wasn't going to tell me. He wasn't going to say a word about her . Which meant I'd have to say it myself.

"Mundane? Odd. I heard you found a runaway slave in the hunting grounds. Is that true?"

He looked up slowly. Coldly.

Nothing but silence. But his eyes said everything.

The truth settled in my chest like lead. He'd taken a lover.

And the world, our marriage, my entire security of my reign…shifted beneath my feet.