Chapter 3 :
The news of the demon king's wife fleeing his iron grasp spread through the kingdom like wildfire, igniting whispers in every corner from the gilded halls to the shadowed alleys.
In the great throne room, courtiers exchanged uneasy glances. Some saw Elara's flight as a sign of weakness, a folly unbefitting the wife of a ruthless ruler. "She's an amateur, unworthy of the throne," sneered Lord Halven, a sharp-tongued nobleman who thrived on the king's favor. "No true queen would ever dare to flee."
Yet not all voices carried scorn. In hushed tones, a few admired her courage. "To escape the demon king's clutch... that takes more than just bravery it takes fire," whispered Lady Irina, a widow with sharp eyes and a quiet strength. "She dared what none of us would even dream."
Among the king's court ladies, the news stirred a tempest of envy and regret. Some secretly longed for the chance to shock the throne themselves, imagining the power and prestige that came with being queen even if it meant living in fear. "If only I had been chosen," one murmured to her closest confidante, "maybe I could have softened him, tamed the beast beneath that crown."
Others pitied Elara openly, shaking their heads at the dangers she now faced alone. "She's reckless, but who can blame her?" said a gentle voice in the servants' quarters. "What kind of life is this, living under a tyrant's shadow?"
But harsher judgments persisted as well. "Foolish woman, running away from her duty," barked a grizzled guard. "She'll be hunted down. No one escapes the demon king's wrath."
Throughout the kingdom, rumors twisted and turned like smoke. Some claimed Elara had been abducted by rival factions; others said she was gathering forces to rebel. A few even whispered that the king's fury would soon rain down upon the land in brutal retribution.
Yet amid all the noise and speculation, none could grasp the quiet truth that Elara's flight was not about ambition, rebellion, or power. It was about one fragile thing: peace of mind.
Far from the palace's cold stones and choking shadows, in the village she now called refuge, Elara clung to the hope that she might finally breathe free. The clamor of the kingdom faded behind her, replaced by the rustling of leaves and the gentle kindness of a stranger.
For the first time in years, she could close her eyes without the weight of dread pressing on her heart.
But deep inside, a storm still brewed the demon king's shadow never truly fades. And though the kingdom's whispers would rage on, Elara's fight was just beginning.
The Next day.....
The late afternoon sun bathed the fields outside the town of Kareth in golden light, but Mira barely noticed it. Her feet moved fast and quiet along the narrow forest trail that wound toward the northern cliffs—an area that the townsfolk avoided like a curse. Rumors had long circulated about that borderland. Whispers of spirits, old magic, and the weight of a powerful kingdom's shadow made it a place of fear.
But for Mira, it was the only place safe for Elara.
She clutched her shawl tighter around her shoulders. The air was getting colder the deeper she went, even though it was still day. A shiver crawled up her spine, but she pressed forward.
The news had spread like wildfire that morning in the marketplace.
"They say the queen of Virelia has vanished!"
"Vanished? More like run away."
"Imagine! The most powerful woman in the world, fleeing her throne? What could scare her off?"
Mira had dropped her basket the moment she overheard the murmurs. She had seen that stranger with sea-glass eyes and the regal bearing a week ago, wandering near the cliffs with nothing but a cloak and a small satchel. It was Elara. No one ever goes near those cliffs. She ran fast back home to warm elara.
She found Elara nestled beneath the roots of an old tree, just out of sight from the path. Her head rested against her knees, arms wrapped tightly around herself. She looked nothing like the image of the powerful queen Mira had heard about in bedtime tales.
"Elara," Mira called softly.
Elara's head snapped up. For a moment, she looked ready to flee like a deer spotting the glint of a hunter's arrow. Mira raised both hands.
"It's just me. Mira. "
Elara blinked. "You… followed me?"
Mira nodded and stepped closer. "I had to. There's gossip spreading through town. About the queen of Virelia disappearing."
Elara's expression darkened. Her shoulders tensed.
"You told them?" she asked, voice brittle.
"No," Mira said quickly. "Of course not. I wouldn't. I came because… if anyone else had found you, they might've turned you in. But I won't. I swear it."
Elara studied her for a long, silent moment. Her lips parted, then closed again. Then
"Why?" she whispered. "Why would you protect me?"
Mira sat down on a patch of moss near her. "Because you look like you've been running a long time. And you don't seem dangerous. You seem tired. Sad. Lonely."
Elara exhaled slowly. Her eyes shimmered. "I've spent my entire life surrounded by people who wanted something from me. Power. Gold. Favor. But never kindness."
"Well," Mira said gently, "then maybe it's time someone gave you kindness first."
Elara smiled faintly. It cracked something open inside her.
"Why did you run?"
Elara hesitated. Then, as if the words had been trapped inside her too long, she let them spill.
"My mother died when I was twelve. My father died last year. The court turned to me, and they expected me to be like him, my husband the king. Cold. Calculating. But I couldn't. I tried. Gods know I tried. But the things they wanted me to do, the things they said were necessary I couldn't bear it."
Mira said nothing, only listened.
"I would've become a puppet to the council.And I am Married to a ruthless king and a warlord without sympathy.
. Watch innocent villages fall under 'strategic conquest.' They called it progress. I called it bloodshed." Elara's voice shook. "So I left. Disguising myself. Took nothing but enough gold to barter food and passage. And I kept walking."
"And you ended up here," Mira said softly.
Elara gave a small nod. "Didn't realize how close this town was to the border. No one talks about the cliffs or the forest trail. It's like… people are afraid of something here."
"They are," Mira said. "That path links to Virelia, and we're told not to go near it. They say the trees whisper and spirits walk at night."
Elara actually laughed. It was the first real laugh Mira had heard from her. "That's clever. I bet the old kings liked the rumors. It kept people away from the crossing."
"Probably." Mira's eyes softened. "But that fear worked in your favor."
Elara looked down at her hands. "I should leave again. The longer I stay, the more danger I bring to your town."
Mira shook her head. "No. Stay. At least until the storm passes. No one will come looking here. No one dares."
"But if they find me.."
"They won't. Not if you stay with me."
Elara raised an eyebrow. "You'd hide me?"
Mira gave a small smile. "My family has a cellar below our bakery. Cool, quiet, and packed with flour sacks. You could vanish for a hundred years and no one would know."
There was silence between them then, warm and full of something unspoken.
Finally, Elara whispered, "Thank you, Mira."
Mira stood, extending her hand. "Come on. Before night falls. We'll get you some bread and a real bed."
Elara took her hand. Her fingers were cold but steady.
And together, they walked back down the forest path away from danger, toward a new kind of safety neither of them had ever known.