The golden hall shimmered around King Aldric. He stood, tense and silent, facing the woman who had introduced herself with sorrowful majesty.
“I am Queen Mariana,” she said again, her voice tender and timeless.
Aldric bowed slightly, unsure whether he was dreaming or standing at the threshold of some greater mystery.
Queen Mariana stepped forward, her scarlet and silver robes flowing like living fire. Her eyes, ancient and compassionate, pierced into his heart.
“I have come because you are at war with yourself,” she said softly. “You are wounded by betrayal that never truly happened. And you stand in danger of destroying your own happiness.”
Aldric lowered his gaze.
“How can I forget?” he whispered. “How can I forgive? Another's child... unknown to me for years, born of my wife yet n
