The Alpha King's Queen

Episode Two: Fighting Into The Shadows

Charlon ran through the night with Princess Hylia clinging tightly to his back. Beside him, a small boy kept pace, his dark curls damp with sweat. Alexander, his son—only ten, but hardened already by war. His mother had died when the first wave of Rocj’s army swept across the land. Since then, Alexander’s world had been reduced to survival. Now, Princess Hylia was part of that world.

The three of them reached the forest, the only refuge left. Branches clawed at Charlon’s cloak as he pushed deeper into the woods. Behind them, the glow of fire painted the sky, a reminder of Normak’s burning heart.

“Papa,” Alexander whispered hoarsely, “how far must we go?”

“Farther than Rocj’s reach,” Charlon replied. He shifted Princess Hylia in his arms. She was silent now, her wide eyes staring blankly ahead. Shock had stolen her tears.

They camped that night in the hollow of a great oak. Charlon wrapped his cloak around both children and crouched by the faintest spark of fire. He watched them, his heart torn. Princess Hylia was Queen Haru’s mirror—the same fair hair, the same delicate strength. Protecting her was not just a duty; it was an act of love for the woman he could not save.

When Princess Hylia finally spoke, her voice was small. “Will I see Mama again?”

Charlon’s chest ached. He wanted to promise her the world, to say yes, but lies would not shield her. Instead, he took her hand. “Your mother is braver than anyone I know. She will endure. And one day, you will see her again.”

Alexander shifted, his young jaw tight. “I’ll protect her, Papa. Like you said. She’ll be my sister now.”

Charlon looked at his son, pride swelling in him. “Yes. You’ll both protect each other. That is how we survive.”

As the firelight flickered, memories came to him—of Queen Haru in the royal gardens, laughing as she stole a grape from his hand; of the way her lips had tasted of wine and forbidden longing; of nights spent whispering dreams neither dared share in daylight. He clenched his fists. Rocj had taken everything from him but these children. He would not take them too.

The next weeks blurred into a rhythm of flight. Villages turned to ash in Rocj’s wake. Charlon bartered for food, hid in caves, crossed rivers under moonlight. Alexander learned to hunt rabbits with a sling, while Princess Hylia carried water with quiet determination. Despite her sorrow, there was a steel in the little princess that reminded Charlon so much of her mother.