Chapter 11
The royal physician, a paragon of medical expertise, stood before the king, her words infused with authority and conviction. "After an exhaustive examination, I can confirm that the food Queen Mara prepared for Concubine Odessa did not precipitate the miscarriage." The king's sigh of relief was almost palpable, his tension dissipating like a released breath.
Just then, the queen mother swept into the throne room, her regal presence commanding attention. "Are you absolutely certain of this, Doctor?" she asked, her voice firm and authoritative, yet laced with a hint of maternal concern. The physician nodded, her expression unwavering in its confidence. "Yes, Your Majesty. The concubine's condition was attributable to complications inherent to her pregnancy, but fortunately, the baby remains safe and healthy."
The king's expression softened, his relief evident in the gentle lines of his face. The queen mother's countenance, too, was transformed, her features radiating joy and gratitude. "Thank heavens." she said, her voice warm with appreciation. "Let us proceed to the clinic,I wish to ascertain her well-being personally." The physician bowed and they departed the throne room, their footsteps echoing through the palace corridors.
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Queen Mara's eyes widened in astonishment as the guard ushered her out of the dungeon, the harsh light of the palace corridors a stark contrast to the darkness she had endured. She stood before the king, her expression a tumultuous mix of emotions - confusion, relief, and anger. The king's words, however, ignited a firestorm of feelings within her. "The soup you prepared wasn't the cause of the miscarriage," he said. "And, in fact, it wasn't even a miscarriage. Just some complications. The child is safe."
Queen Mara's face contorted in a mixture of anguish and indignation. She stood in stunned silence for a moment, her eyes flashing with anger, before her hand shot out, striking the king's arm with a resounding slap. "I told you," she exclaimed, her voice trembling with emotion. "Why would I ever harm an innocent child? I visited Odessa's chambers with the utmost good intentions - to ensure her safety, to safeguard her health and that of the baby. I prepared a nourishing soup to protect them, but you chose not to believe me."
The king's expression was contrite, his eyes filled with remorse. "I'm deeply sorry, Mara. I was wrong to doubt your intentions." Queen Mara's anger boiled over, her voice rising in a crescendo of emotion. "Sorry? Sorry is hardly sufficient. You've already demonstrated a profound lack of trust in me. It's grossly unfair. Now it transpires that the soup wasn't even the cause of anything, and she didn't suffer a miscarriage. Yet, you refused to listen to me, to trust me."
Her voice cracked with emotion, and tears welled up in her eyes, threatening to overflow. The king's apology seemed hollow, a feeble attempt to salve his conscience. Queen Mara's hurt and anger threatened to consume her.
The king's voice was barely above a whisper, laced with regret and sorrow. "I'm sorry, Mara, I'm really sorry," he murmured, his words echoing through the silence.
Queen Mara's response was a passionate outpouring of emotion, her voice trembling with intensity. "Look at me, listen to me," she implored, her words spilling forth like a torrent. "I was trying, I am trying with every fiber of my being to conceive your child. Why would I commit such a heinous act, destroying the very thing I desire most. I wanted to bear your child, to feel the miracle of life growing within me, to know that our love has created a new life."
Her voice cracked with emotion as she continued, "Just yesterday, we made love, and it was an act born of desperation, of longing, of yearning to create a life together. I don't care about the throne, I don't care about the heir. What I care about is us, our love, and the bond that a child would forge between us. I want us to have a child together, a child that would be a testament to our love, a symbol of our commitment to each other."
Her words hung in the air, a poignant reminder of the depth of her emotions, and the sincerity of her desire to build a life with the king. The silence that followed was oppressive, heavy with the weight of unspoken doubts and fears.
The king's hand extended, his fingers brushing against the air as he reached for Queen Mara. But before he could even graze her skin, she jerked her hand away, the movement swift and decisive. The king's eyes widened, his gaze locking onto the sudden distance between them.
"You've made it obvious," Queen Mara's voice cut through the silence, the words laced with a potent mix of hurt and anger. Her eyes flashed with a deep-seated pain, a wound that seemed to run far deeper than the surface-level accusation.
"You've made it known that you don't trust me," she continued, her voice rising with each word. "Let it be so, then." The finality in her tone was unmistakable, a sense of resignation that hung in the air like a challenge.
With a quiet dignity, Queen Mara turned away from the king, her long strides eating up the distance as she walked away from him. The king stood frozen, his outstretched hand now empty and his heart heavy with the weight of his regret. The silence that followed was oppressive, a physical presence that seemed to suffocate him. He was left standing alone, the echoes of his own doubts and fears ringing in his ears.
As she walked away from the king, Queen Mara's footsteps echoed through the chamber, each step a testament to her growing distance from the monarch. She had put a respectable amount of space between herself and the king, enough to feel a semblance of safety from his accusing gaze. Only then did she allow herself to pause, her hand instinctively rising to her chest.
She took a deep breath in, feeling the cool air fill her lungs, and then exhaled slowly, her shoulders sagging ever so slightly. "That was close," she whispered to herself, a faint smile playing on her lips as she realized she had managed to keep her composure.
With a quiet snicker, Queen Mara straightened her posture and continued on her way, her steps now carrying a renewed sense of purpose. She disappeared into the shadows of the corridor, leaving the king to ponder the weight of his own doubts.