Shawn stared at the Bible resting on the kitchen counter.
His sister had left just a few minutes ago.
The apartment was silent again.
Only the hum of the fridge and the constant drip from the faucet he'd never bothered to fix could be heard.
Shawn walked over to the counter and picked up the Bible with both hands.
He held it in front of him.
He stared at it for several long seconds.
"Hey," he said finally, in a low voice. "I have a question."
Silence.
Shawn swallowed.
"What I did over there…" he continued, scratching the back of his neck. "You know… healing the queen, enduring all those visions… all of it."
He paused.
"How's the cleansing of my sins going with that work?"
The pages of the Bible began to turn on their own.
They stopped.
Golden letters appeared.
[You've barely begun.]
Shawn read the words.
He reread them.
And read them a third time.
"Barely?" he repeated out loud, frowning. "I've barely begun?"
The letters vanished.
And new ones took their place.
[This is a lifelong job.]
Shawn froze.
Completely still.
His hands held the Bible without moving.
His eyes were fixed on those golden words.
'My whole life,' he thought.
He said nothing.
He didn't protest.
He didn't complain.
He simply stood there, in the middle of his kitchen, holding a book that had just told him the rest of his existence would be dedicated to this.
Shawn carefully set the Bible back on the counter.
He turned around.
Walked to the couch.
And sat down.
Staring at nothing.
'My whole life,' he repeated in his mind.
He didn't know what to feel.
He didn't know what to think.
He just sat there, in silence.
◇◆◇
Chancellor Isolde Craven hadn't slept.
Neither had the four assistants she had summoned in an emergency the night before.
The administrative office in the west wing was a disaster.
Piles of documents covered every available surface.
On the main desk.
On the chairs.
On the floor.
Unrolled scrolls stretched across the room.
Open ledgers marked with red ink.
Stacks of transaction records in no apparent order.
Isolde sat behind her desk, elbows propped on the wood, hands clasped in front of her face.
Her blue eyes were bloodshot from lack of sleep.
Her normally impeccable black hair was somewhat disheveled.
Loose strands fell across her forehead.
'This is a nightmare,' she thought, staring at the mountain of papers she still had left to review.
Years of governance.
Years of decisions.
Years of transactions.
And among all those transactions… there were several that could never see the light of day.
Payments to nonexistent intermediaries.
Funds diverted to accounts only she and a handful of people knew about.
Purchases of supplies that never reached the castle.
All of it had to disappear.
Or at least, it had to look normal.
It had to look clean.
One of her assistants, a young man with deep dark circles under his eyes, approached with a scroll in hand.
"My lady," he said in a hoarse voice. "I found another discrepancy in the records from the third year."
Isolde held out her hand without looking at him.
"Give it to me," she ordered.
The assistant handed her the scroll.
Isolde read it quickly.
Her eyes moved line by line.
And then she frowned.
"Who authorized this purchase?" she asked in a cold voice.
The assistant swallowed.
"You did, my lady," he replied quietly.
Isolde closed her eyes for a moment.
'Right,' she thought, remembering. 'That was the poison purchase disguised as an import of medicinal herbs.'
"Rewrite it," Isolde said, handing the scroll back. "Change the supplier to a legitimate one. And adjust the quantities to match the royal apothecary's inventory."
The assistant nodded and hurried away.
Isolde leaned back in her chair and let out a long sigh.
'I still have to make sure everything lines up,' she thought, running a hand over her face. 'If the queen finds even a single inconsistency…'
She didn't want to finish that thought.
Just then, the office door opened.
Isolde looked up immediately.
It was one of the maids she had assigned to monitor the queen's movements.
The girl entered quickly and closed the door behind her.
"What is it?" Isolde asked, tensing. "Is she coming here?"
The maid shook her head.
"No, my lady," she replied. "It's the opposite."
Isolde blinked.
"The opposite?" she repeated.
The maid nodded.
"The queen won't be leaving her room today," she said. "One of the knights guarding her door reported that Her Majesty has decided to take the day to rest."
Isolde went silent.
Processing.
"Repeat that," she said slowly.
The maid looked at her with some confusion but obeyed.
"Her Majesty is taking the day to rest, my lady," she repeated. "One of the knights from her personal guard delivered the message. He said Her Majesty does not wish to be disturbed today."
Isolde didn't respond right away.
She stared at the maid for several seconds.
And then a laugh began to escape her lips.
Soft at first.
Almost inaudible.
"He…"
Then a little louder.
"Hehe…"
And then an open laugh that made the assistants lift their heads from their documents.
"Hahaha…"
The maid took a step back, not understanding.
"My lady…?" she asked cautiously.
Isolde covered her mouth with one hand, trying to compose herself.
'I knew it,' she thought, feeling relief begin to spread through her body. 'I knew it was too good to be true.'
The queen had been walking all over the castle the day before.
Supervising.
Reprimanding.
Firing people.
Acting as if she were perfectly healthy.
But Isolde knew the effects of the poison better than anyone.
'She overexerted herself,' she thought, leaning back in her chair with a smile. 'She spent all the energy she'd regained in a single day, and now she's paying the price.'
That meant the recovery wasn't complete.
That the poison was still taking effect.
That the queen wasn't fully cured.
'She'll probably stay locked away for another while before coming out again,' Isolde thought, feeling the tension in her shoulders ease for the first time in hours. 'Maybe weeks. Maybe months.'
And that gave her time.
Time to finish cleaning up the reports.
Time to hide what needed to be hidden.
Time to see if she could finally end the queen's influence once and for all.
Isolde looked at her assistants.
"Keep working," she ordered in a firm voice, but noticeably more relaxed than before. "But it's no longer as urgent. We have more time than we thought."
The assistants let out almost simultaneous sighs of relief.
Isolde turned back to the maid.
"Good work," she said. "Keep watching. If anything changes, I want to know immediately."
"Yes, my lady," the maid replied, curtsying before leaving.
Isolde was left alone with her thoughts.
And for the first time, she smiled with genuine excitement.
◇◆◇
Queen Iris Ashford was sitting on the floor.
Her back rested against the bedroom door, blocking it.
Her legs were stretched out in front of her.
Her hands rested on her knees.
And her gaze was fixed on the empty bed in front of her.
The bed where she had laid the girl.
The bed where she had held her for hours to warm her.
The bed that was now empty.
Only the rumpled sheets remained.
And the scent.
That sweet, soft scent still floating in the air.
'Where did she go?' Iris thought, not taking her eyes off the bed.
She had woken up a while ago.
And when she opened her eyes, the girl was gone.
She hadn't heard the door open.
She hadn't felt any movement.
She had simply… disappeared.
Iris had checked every corner of the room.
Under the bed.
The wardrobe.
Behind the curtains.
Nothing.
The girl had vanished.
And the only thing left of her was her scent clinging to the sheets.
Iris had sat against the door after that.
Not because she was afraid.
Not because she was weak.
But because she was thinking.
'That girl,' Iris thought, remembering the healer's sleeping face. 'She appeared out of nowhere. She healed me. And she disappeared out of nowhere.'
None of it made sense.
Absolutely none of it.
Iris closed her eyes.
And stayed like that for a long while.
Thinking.
Remembering.
Analyzing.
Until suddenly, a flash struck her.
Even with her eyes closed, the light was so intense it forced her to cover her face with her hands.
"Tch!" she clicked her tongue, standing up abruptly.
Her instincts kicked in immediately.
She went on guard.
Her red eyes opened wide, trying to see through the glare.
Her muscles tensed.
Ready to attack.
Ready to defend.
But then she felt it.
A scent.
Sweet.
Soft.
Familiar.
The same scent that had been on the sheets for hours.
The light faded.
And in front of her, standing in the middle of the room, was the girl.
The healer who had cured her.
Naked.
Completely naked.
Iris froze.
Her red eyes widened.
And for the first time in a very long time, Queen Iris Ashford didn't know what to say.