His Divine Queen

The Past Few Months

It had been a difficult few months for Arabella. Firstly, Alaric’s mysterious disappearance had caused a ruckus throughout the Kingdom – citizens and nobles alike panicking as they all wondered where he had gone to, and how he had escaped. Then, the strange butchering of their livestock; the steady decline in fresh meat escalating the panic and fears within an already unstable city.

Then, worst of all, were the gut-wrenching screams that woke Arabella up at night. She had barely got a wink of sleep lately, but couldn’t be mad, no, because she could only imagine the horrors and pain that were making him cry out when he slept.

Lorcan had not been faring well. He had been in bad shape after the battle, barely being able to stand on his own two feet from all the torture he had been put through during his imprisonment. His wounds had slowly healed after his ordeal, the scars and bruises fading from everyone’s sight.

But, the marks that they couldn’t see, the marks cut deep into his very soul, remained as they were. They were deep, crushing scars that would only ever show themselves at night. When there was no one around but him and Arabella; it would rear its ugly head and threaten to pull him back into that dismal place where he had spent all those nights alone and in pain. Tortured under his own father’s hand.

Her heart ached for him, she wanted to comfort him – to try and heal him – but there was only so much that soft mutters and gentle caresses could do. She wished that she could take his pain away, let him get even one night of dreamless sleep, but she knew that it wasn’t possible.

He was scarred, and only time could heal him now.

Arabella paused at her desk, pen poised above the stark white parchment that called for her to write upon it. She had to write to Kylia, her new Army General, about the state of affairs she was currently in charge of. She sighed heavily, dropping the pen and bringing her hands to her face to rub at it tiredly. She could barely remember the last time she’d had a full night’s sleep, the stresses of acting Queen of Epineio haunting her in both the waking world and dream world.

Because Lorcan wasn’t the only one that was plagued by his past. Arabella felt it too, with the knowledge that her nightmares was still out there, alive and breathing, following her into the waking world too. No one knew where Alaric had gone: one day he had been in his prison cell; and the next, he had disappeared and left a trail of dead bodies behind him. Arabella’s advisors were as puzzled as she, especially Kylia – who had been adamant that there was no way he would have been able to escape in his state. But it had happened, and it meant that they had all either underestimated him, or someone had helped him escape.

If it was the latter, Arabella had to wonder why – why someone would want to help the disgraced former Prince escape. Unless, they had need for him. And that was what haunted Arabella.

What was he doing? And was he going to come back for her?

Arabella wasn’t naïve, not anymore – she knew that he had this unhealthy obsession with her, and knew that wherever he was, he was probably planning to return for her. She only hoped that when he did come, he would come alone. Otherwise, to put it bluntly, they were screwed.

After the chaos of the battle and Arabella’s hasty coronation, most of the remaining army soldiers that were not on trial for their crimes against the Kingdom had decided to retire from their roles, having been forced to be there in the first place on the orders of the late King Edmund. The Palace guards had also suffered severe losses in the civil war, so had not been able to fill those gaps left by the departing soldiers.

To put it simply, if the Moon Kingdom were to be attacked, they would lose immediately. There was no doubt about that. And Arabella had to try and prevent this from happening, somehow, with the limited resources she had left. This is what had been stressing her for these past few months, all whilst trying to deal with the panicking citizens of her city as they slowly started to run out of food.

Pulling her hands away from her head, Arabella opened her bleary eyes. Standing up shakily, she stumbled over to the large windows of her office, staring down into the brightly-lit Palace gardens beneath her. The Sun was shining onto the pruned hedges and flourishing flowers, whilst a stray breeze swept sand from the desert across the stone pathways. It was a beautiful sight, one that she should be grateful for being able to experience every day. But the novelty of it had worn off fairly quickly, especially with rising tensions as unknown forces threatened to wreak havoc on her Kingdom.

The murdered animals had only been the start of it all. The attacks had been happening so frequently that they’d had to start rationing meat which, in a city full of carnivorous Were shifters, was never going to end well. That was not the only thing, however, because only a few short weeks ago the attacks had escalated even further. The first victims were a farmer and his wife, their bodies found a little ways out of their farmland – hanging upside down from a tree with their throats mutilated like they had been part of some weird ritual. Arabella had gone to the scene, and had felt utterly sick at the mere brutality of it all.

Since then, another three attacks had been orchestrated. Each more violent and stomach-churning than the last. So far, Arabella and her advisors had been able to keep this news fairly under wraps – not wanting to cause more panic in an already-frazzled city – but this was getting harder and harder to do as more bodies were found.

Arabella was at her wits end, with her only reprieve being in this very room. In her office, writing letters to various nobility or generals that were trying to maintain her crumbling army. She would say that her haven was within the arms of her love, but even that did not offer her any comfort as he tried to escape the demons in his dreams. And she couldn’t tell him everything that she was worried about, couldn’t even bare to think of that situation herself, so she felt alone. Completely alone.

Breaking the calm reprieve she had found herself in, a knock resounded around her office. Arabella breathed out slowly, steeling her face before turning around to face the closed door.

“Come in!” She called out, watching as the door slowly opened to reveal her lover leaning nonchalantly against the door frame. His thick, golden-coloured arms were crossed across his broad chest. She paused as she took him in. His face, although handsome with his strong cheekbones, defined jaw and curled dark hair, showed signs of his fatigue.

“Ari,” he breathed finally, a soft smile overcoming his rugged features as he walked towards the chair situated in front of her desk. “Are you nearly finished up here?” He asked gently, reclining into the soft leather as his dark eyes remained scrutinising his Queen that had yet to move from her position by the window.

“Not quite yet,” she muttered a reply, taking one last quick glance out the window before moving towards him. She settled on the chair next to his, leaning forward slightly so she could inspect his face. His eyes were sad, the usual light that would make his green flecks shine duller than usual. Deep purple bruises rested beneath them, etched into his face as a reminder of the sleepless nights they had both been suffering.

Arabella felt her heart sink at the gloomy look in his eyes, “El… You look so tired, you should try and get some rest.”

When the tiredness grew too much for her, she would usually hide away in her office – managing to nap for nearly an hour at a time. Although it was not much, it meant that she was able to get at least some rest. She knew that Lorcan had not been so lucky, however, as he had grown to be fearful of sleep, and of the dreams that would come with it.

Lorcan shook his head in refusal, mumbling, “No, no it’s okay. I don’t need to sleep. I just need to stay busy, keep myself going.”

The Queen hesitated for a moment before sighing, and placed her hand softly on his clenched fists, “It’s okay to not be strong, El. It’s only me, you don’t have to hide anything.”

He was silent, eyes fixated on her hand that was wrapped around his before he lifted his gaze to her own. As Arabella watched him in trepidation, she caught something that made her heart leap in her chest – a small sparkle of light in his eyes. Like what they held before the battle, that same spark for her that she had come to love so very much. They stayed like this for a while, staring at each other as she observed the teary glint in his eyes that she knew would not fall.

“I know…” He whispered, sending a soft smile at her. She smiled back, tears building up in her eyes as she leant forward to peck his lips gently.

As their lips connected, eyes shut tightly to block the rest of the world out, a single tear slipped down her cheek to join with their entwined lips. It tasted slightly salty, spreading across their joining as they deepened their love for one another. Little did she know that those tears were not only her own, but ones that he had finally allowed himself to shed. Tears that had started streaming down his face as soon as she had closed her eyes, as he had finally allowed himself to mourn. Mourn for his father – even if he had been a despicable man, his lost brother, and for those days of darkness and anguish that continued to haunt him even now.

He was healing, slowly, but he was. It would be a long journey, one that was going to be difficult for them both.

But they would get through it, together.