A heavy silence fell between us, the weight of her words sinking deep into my chest.
"You could have left," I said softly, though I already knew her answer.
She smiled, but it was a sad, tired thing. "How could I? He was doing it all for me. How could I abandon him when he was drowning because of my debt?"
Irene let out a slow breath, her gaze still lost in the vast night sky. The moon bathed her in silver light, but the sadness in her eyes remained untouched.
"If someone had to leave, it should have been him. Most men would have."
I hesitated before asking,
"Then why didn't he? "
She pulled her knees to her chest, resting her chin against them. "Do you know why?" She turned to me then, her expression unreadable.
I shook my head.
"Because he loved me," she said simply. "Not the kind of love in fairytales or songs-his love was desperate, reckless, and flawed. He wasn't a good man, but he was mine. And in his own broken way, he wanted to save me."
Her fingers curled into the fabric of her dress as if grasping onto something long gone. "I was the only thing in his life that wasn't cruel to him. Maybe that's why he couldn't let me go. He wanted to be my hero, even when he had nothing left to give."
Irene exhaled a bitter laugh. "But love doesn't pay debts."
"He gambled away our son."
My heart stopped. Not from the shock of gambling his son but from how far he was willing to go for her.
"He... did?" I whispered. Honestly I didn't think he'll try to gamble his own child a second time, even if it was for the one he loved.
Irene let out a shaky breath.
"He lost the bet, and the man he owed wanted my child as payment. The moment I found out, I took my son and ran. I couldn't let them take him. So, we hid in this forest, far away from everyone. You've heard my side, now, let me hear yours, Majesty. Tell me everything, after you are done, there is something I want to show you." I sighed, trying to process everything Irene told me and wondering what she wanted to show me. I started from the beginning again.
"I was a princess in Runevale, but the title meant nothing. The fine dresses, the jewels-they were just decorations on an empty life. My mother, the queen, never loved me. She never hugged me, never smiled at me. When she did speak to me, it was never with warmth.
'I want you to look your best. I'm expecting an important guest today.'
That was the closest thing to care she ever showed, yet she never once looked me in the eyes.
Other children grew up with bedtime stories and laughter. My nights were filled with silence-except for my own quiet sobs. I cried myself to sleep more times than I could count, while my mother entertained her guests in the grand halls.
The only thing that made it bearable was Michael. He was the son of a high-ranking official, and he would sneak into my room at night to tell me stories about the world outside. He spoke of bustling markets, lively festivals, and sunlit gardens-things I had never seen with my own eyes."
"I never knew the princess was going through all that," Irene said, her voice heavy. "I knew the queen was cruel, but to her own daughter?"
"Every meal in the palace was like a performance. The long dining table, the golden plates-it was all meaningless. My mother's cold gaze made every bite hard to swallow.
Birthdays weren't special either. I'd hear of children celebrating with cakes, gifts, and love. But my birthdays were just another day-except for my mother's reminders."
"You're turning eight tomorrow. You're no longer a child."
"Tomorrow is your fifteenth birthday. Be grateful you've lived this long."
That was it. No celebration, no warmth-just a reminder that my life was only tolerated, not cherished.
The palace was grand, but to me, it was a prison. Every polished floor, every towering mirror only reflected my loneliness back at me. Even the servants, who barely spoke to me, had pity in their eyes.
Not even the gardens, my only refuge, could escape my mother's presence. The flowers bloomed beautifully, but somehow, they always seemed dull in her shadow."
"Even if she didn't like me, I was okay, at least I could still see her," I continued, my voice filled with a mix of sadness and resignation.
"One evening, she summoned me to the grand throne room, where she sat regally upon a magnificent golden throne. The throne is adorned with intricate carvings, crafted with expert precision. The golden surface shimmers in the light, casting a warm, inviting glow. The craftsmanship is flawless, with each detail carefully etched, showcasing the talent and artistry of its creators.
The backrest of the throne rises tall and proud, with a series of graceful curves and embellishments that add to its enchanting beauty. Delicate patterns and motifs inspired by nature and history are etched into the golden surface, lending an air of mystique to the piece. The room was adorned with opulent tapestries and sparkling chandeliers, reflective of the extravagant life within the castle walls.
" Your Majesty," I bowed low as I entered the room, the echo of my footsteps fading into the vast silence. The grand chamber seemed to shrink in her presence, as if the very air bent to her will. My mother, Runevale-named after the kingdom she ruled with an iron will-was the embodiment of beauty, power, and something far more terrifying.
Despite the years that should have touched her, she remained untouched by time, her beauty so flawless it defied reason. If perfection had a face, it would be hers. She wasn't just beautiful; she was otherworldly, as if nature itself had sculpted her with the finest precision. Her long, raven-black hair cascaded in waves down her back, thick and silken, as if woven from shadows themselves.
Then there were her eyes-Infernal Garnet. A shade so deep, so impossibly rich, they seemed to burn like embers in the dim light. They were hypnotic, unsettling, and yet, they held no warmth. No love. Just an abyss of restrained fury.
She sat draped in dark robes of purple and black, woven with intricate silver embroidery that shimmered with every movement. The contrast between her pale, almost porcelain skin and the darkness of her attire made her seem even more ethereal, a specter of elegance and danger. Even in stillness, she radiated power.
She smiled, and it was beautiful. Terrifyingly so. A smile that had led kings to ruin and made the bravest men bow.
"I want you to leave, be gone by tomorrow morning," she stated bluntly, her voice sharp and as cold as ever. Sometimes I wondered how one so beautiful could be so cruel and cold. The simplicity of her words cut through the air, leaving a lingering silence in their wake.
"Where to, mothe.... I mean, Your Highness?" I asked, trying to mask the hurt in my voice with a semblance of composure. Deep down, I knew her answer would be just as devoid of empathy as her previous words.
"Who knows," she sneered dismissively, her gaze drifting past me as if I were nothing more than a mere inconvenience. "I'm fed up with seeing your repulsive face every single day. You have nothing more to offer me, and I don't want anything from you so I suggest that we part ways."
Her words pierced my heart like a thousand daggers, the weight of her disappointment crashing down on me. As the reality of her decision settled in, I felt a mix of emotions rise within me. She was the queen and her word was the law, if she decides to exile me then that'll be all, no one could change that.
"It's because you're my daughter, that's why I'm giving you up to tomorrow morni..."
"What kind of mother exiles her own child and calls it generosity or kindness?" I didn't make her finish her sentence before I exploded. If she was going to exile me then I might as well release all the pent-up feelings I've been suppressing all these years. After all, she was never the type of woman to joke around, if she said it, she meant it.
"Throughout my entire life, you've acted as though you're been forced to raise me, all that time, I never question you, nor did I stand against you. You never allowed me to go out, I don't know any other place besides this palace, and now you want me to go away? WHERE TO? have I ever told that I hate you? If I haven't, then here it comes.. I took a deep breath before shouting.
"I HATE YOU MOTHER. I wish you were dea..."
"Shut up or you'll die were you stand" she interrupted me with a soft tone before I could finish. And like I said, if she said it, she meant it. If she was going to exile me, what else couldn't she do?
"I'll repeat myself, you have until tomorrow morning, if you're still here by then, I'll kill you. You are now dismissed." She said with a smile, her face was void of any emotions.
"Before I go, I need to ask you a question your Majesty. Am I really your daughter, Even with all the cruelty you've shown me , I thought the worst you could do was marry me off for political gain, but to threaten my life?" My voice trembled as I spoke and she scoffed.
"Fine, I guess it wouldn't hurt to let you know the truth." I swallowed hard, saying in my head, 'finally, she'll tell me the truth about my birth' or so I thought.
"Yes, you are my daughter -though I feel ashamed to even acknowledge it."
I flinched, but she continued, her voice growing sharper.
"You call me cruel? Tell me, What do you know of cruelty?" Just then, I saw my mother frown, it was my first time seeing her angry. It's different from those times she looked at me with disgust.
"When did I starve you? When did I throw you onto the streets? Do you think cruelty is merely the absence of bedtime stories and motherly embraces?" She scoffed, her expression filled with contempt. "Mind you, the Queen does not have the luxury of sentiment. And just when I taught I couldn't get more disappointed in you, you proved me wrong." My fists clenched, but I forced myself to stay composed. "Then Why not just marry me off? If I meant so little to you, why not use me as bargaining chip like I always assumed you would?"
Her lips curled into something between disdain and amusement. I had planned to. But not for power. I already have all the power I need. You were an eyesore, Just marrying you off would've been enough."