As Jazell made her way down the hallways, her hair brushed lightly against her neck, framing her face like a veil.
She was wearing a blue gown with long, flowing sleeves, and cinched at the waist was a belt-like design with intricate golden embroidery that shimmered faintly under the rays of the sunlight streaming in from the tall windows.
Not a single wrinkle marred her face; it was smooth, flawless, and marble-calm. Her chin remained lifted as she walked, posture carved into every stride.
She approached Ragaleon's chambers, and the guards stationed before the door stepped aside at once, bowing low in practiced courtesy.
Her chin remained lifted. Not once did her gaze falter; she stared straight ahead, unbothered, not even caring to acknowledge the guards.
Without breaking her stride, she swept past them and entered Ragaleon's room, the doors closing behind her.
The first thing her eyes landed on was Micah, seated on a chair beside Ragaleon's bed, quietly watching him sleep.
He looked peaceful. His face had returned to its natural color, and his dark, silky hair had regained its luster, falling longer now, framing his features nicely as he slept.
Micah had raised her gaze when Jazell had stepped into the room, and now, her eyes were solely fixed on Jazell, gauging her with a penetrative glare.
"The king is asleep," she said, rising to her feet. "He will not be disturbed."
Jazell hummed softly before clasping her hands behind her back as she advanced toward Micah.
"You watch him keenly, like a hawk, every passing minute; is it not exhausting?"
She circled the bed until she came to a stop directly before it.
A slow, amused smile touched Micah's lips.
"How bold of you to ask me that question,"
She replied leisurely, turning away. The dark green gown she wore flared softly as she moved.
Jazell didn't reply to that remark; she saw it as a waste of time.
"How is it that the rejected stone has become the cornerstone? Who would have ever thought that if this kingdom were to fall into a plunging dilemma, the hunter's daughter would see us through?
Her words were like noises to Micah's ears.
"The whole kingdom now stands indebted to your service," she went on, her voice sounding inscrutable.
"The crown favors you. Even I am indebted to you, for you have spared me the fate of widowhood."
She said casually, allowing her eyes to trail towards Micah, who now stood in front of a huge portrait of Ragaleon, staring at it with intriguing thoughts.
In the portrait, Ragaleon appeared younger, but his eyes, those eyes, were unchanged. They still held that familiar golden-brown glint, sharp and knowing, as though they watched from beyond the canvas.
"You do not fear widowhood, Jazell," Micah said calmly, her fingers trailing along the edge of the portrait.
"You fear that Racheal might overthrow you as Queen Mother, because it was decided by the king that her child will sit on the throne."
She turned then, finally facing Jazell, her gaze unwavering.
"You are grateful to me only because, had the king died, the fate of the kingdom would have rested in Racheal's hands… and her unborn child's."
A grin found its way to Jazell's lips.
"Have I now become an open book that can be read so easily?"
"No."
Micah answered, making her way back towards the bed.
"But I have watched you from a close angle and can now decipher how you think. You think only about yourself; nothing else matters to you."
The meaning of her words was clear and merciless.
Then her gaze shifted, dropping unmistakably to Jazell's protruding stomach.
"I have something important to discuss with the king," Jazell said, changing the subject almost instantly.
"As I said before," Micah replied coolly, "the king will not be awakened from his slumber."
"But he already has," she answered, a cunning note threading through her voice.
Micah's brows creased as her gaze snapped to the bed.
Ragaleon's eyes were open, fully awake.
Only then did it dawn on her that all along Jazell had known that he was awake… but chose to be silent.
"My lord, I am deeply sorry to disturb you, but I have a request."
Jazell began turning to face him.
His golden eyes glimmered under his thick lashes as he blinked rapidly to adjust to the light in the room.
"My father joined his ancestors in the afterlife. The kingdom of Vandamonth is now in mourning, and I have been summoned to pay my last respects."
She began with a touch of care in her tone.
"Grant me your blessings to go ahead."
Micah's index finger tapped lightly on her arms, which were crossed on her chest.
"You are pregnant…"
Ragaleon began. Although his voice was a bit husky, she could hear him just fine.
"I will be taking along with me some of your finest men, solid and fit to handle their swords."
Jazell said, inching closer.
"I have lost my father; I wish for nothing more than to grieve for him."
Her voice was so gently controlled; if Micah didn't know Jazell too well, she would have fallen for the charade in front of her.
Ragaleon thought about her words for a while, and Jazell stood patiently, maintaining an erect stance.
"Go."
She heard him say it, and an inconspicuous grin crept to the corner of her lips.
"Send my greetings to the household of Makaah, and have the queen know that she is never alone; the house of Clegane stands with her."
His words were like music to her ears, as she bowed in courtesy, her eyes rolling upwards until they met him.
"Long live the king."
She said before rising up, she cast one last glance at Micah before finally taking her leave.
Micah found herself lost in deep thoughts as Jazell exited the door.
"How much of everything did you hear?"
She directed her question to him.
"Enough to know that I have been betrayed."
He drifted towards the door; someone had just stepped in; it was Racheal.
"The gods have truly performed a miracle."
Racheal spoke as she walked in with disbelief in her eyes.
Micah scoffed, then turned away. She made her way to an oak table where a jar of wine resided. She poured herself some wine in a cup, then brought it to her lips and took a sip.
But the wine did nothing to quench the thirst of displeasure in her eyes as she gazed at Rache.
"Racheal."
Ragaleon called out to her softly, and she smiled weakly as she made her way to his bedside.
"You scared me."
She began raking her hand through his hair.
"I thought you would die and leave me in this world to fend for myself."
"Is that why you betrayed me?"
His words startled her.
"I do not understand."
She remarked, taking his left hand in hers, and squeezed it gently.
"I would never betray you; whatever you have heard must be nothing but a scandal."
"Did you have a royal decree written in my name, claiming your unborn child was the heir to my throne?"
When Micah heard these words, she almost choked on the wine she was drinking.
The blood flowing through Racheal's veins seemed to dry up. With each passing second she gazed at him, trying to find words, her face paled, becoming whiter and whiter as though it would disappear from existence.
"What I did…"
"Is it true?
He snapped firmly, feeling his muscles arch as his voice strained.
"I did it for us, for the betterment of this kingdom, to protect our child."
Racheal had no remorse in her voice as she spoke, but that only seemed to anger him more.
"You have committed treason, Racheal. Can you not see this?"
"What I see is that the gods have brought my husband back to me, and that alone is enough."
Micah clicked her tongue as she dropped the remaining cup of wine on the table with a thud.
It was only then that Racheal remembered that there was someone in the room with them.
"I did what I had to do as a mother would.
She began, her hand unconsciously caressing an emerald ring on her finger.
"How on earth would I have known that you would return to me? I could not think of a better way…
"And by doing so, you were ready to strip off your dignity?"
He interrupted before smacking his thin lips. He felt a throbbing headache invade his senses, making him grunt.
"I trusted you, Racheal."
He continued, his eyes flaring open.
"I have watched you, and I sorted you out so that you may lead by example, but you have decided to make my decision wrong."
Racheal's face became contorted as he spoke, yet still, she had no regret for what she had done.
"I see that you have nothing but contempt for me, and here I was thinking we should celebrate your recovery.
"Did you truly pray for my recovery?"
His question baffled her.
"If you were the faithful wife you have always claimed to be, you would have stood by my bedside, tending to my needs.
But that wasn't the case; you were instead planning on how to ease the crown to your biddies by putting your unborn child on the throne."
Racheal was torn apart. She slowly got to her feet but struggled to find a foothold on the floor. Her feet had long gone numb.
Tears had clouded her eyes, but she held them back, and with her head held up high,
"The king needs his rest; I shall take my leave."
She said to Micah, and without a single word, made her way out of Ragaleon's chamber.
The humiliation she had just faced made Racheal unstable, unfit to think. She stormed into her chamber, yes clouded with tears, and with a single pull, she tore the crown on her head away and threw it on the bed.
She made her way to her dressing mirror and leaned on it, resting her palm on it as her head dropped.
Hot tears began to stream down her face as she gnashed her teeth in deep regret.
She sniffed and sobbed for a while, quietly, and did not know when her maid, Rosa, stepped in holding a tray of herbal soup.
"My lady?...
Rosa called out as she kept the food aside on a table.
"Do not take another step."
Racheal commanded when she heard footsteps advancing towards her direction. Her head was still down, but her eyes were now red.
She moved away from the dressing mirror, crossing the room, as she made her way to the door.
Her plan was to quietly leave and find a place of solace, but just as her hand landed on the knob, her face twisted, and she groaned in pain.
Rosa, who had been using her eyes to monitor her mistress, drew nearer, her face shaped with worry.
"You have overstressed yourself, my lady."
She complained, taking hold of Racheal's hand; she tried to lead her towards the bed, but the latter remained fixed in place as if held down by a heavy load.
"This is my fault; I should have been watching over you…"
"Stop talking, you idiot!
Racheal cursed, shutting her eyes, as she let out a painful cry. Her knees buckled, and she squatted, her right hand supporting her protruding stomach.
Another cry tore out from her throat, almost ceasing her breath with it, and just when she felt it couldn't get any worse, she felt a liquid running down her thighs.
Her water just broke.
"The baby is coming."