CHAPTER 3
"Father!"
A young boy with tousled brown hair and bright blue eyes darted across the chamber, his laughter ringing through the vaulted hall as he flung himself into his father's arms.
King Tommen caught his son with ease, a rare softness flickering across his otherwise impenetrable visage as he lifted the child into the air.
"Mind yourself, dearest," Queen Esmeralda's voice chimed, smooth as silk, as she glided into the room.
Her dark silk hair cascaded over her shoulders, framing a face as bewitching as it was shrewd. Painted lips curled into a smile as she tenderly brushed a hand through her son's hair. For a fleeting moment, they might have been mistaken for the very image of a perfect family.
A cold, measured voice shattered the illusion.
"Greetings, Father."
Prince Hosea stood at the threshold, his posture composed yet distant. His golden locks and striking blue eyes mirrored Tommen's, yet where the king's gaze burned with cruelty, Hosea's held something tempered-something restrained.
Tommen regarded him with a smirk. "And how fared your journey?"
"It was well, Your Grace."
Queen Esmeralda tilted her head, amusement dancing in her brown eyes. "Curious. I hear whispers of your sudden disappearance-gone a full seven days, they say."
Hosea met her gaze without so much as a flinch. "Idle tongues wag freely, my lady."
"Oh?" She let out a light laugh. "Do they now?"
"Enough, Esmeralda."
Tommen's voice cut sharp, his words laced with warning.
"But my king," she cooed, laying a delicate hand upon his arm, "I only fret for dear Hosea. Though he is not of my own womb, I cherish him as I do our Raymar."
Hosea's jaw tensed. "May I take my leave, Your Grace?"
Tommen waved a dismissive hand. "Go."
With a slight bow, Hosea turned and strode from the room.
Esmeralda released a feigned sigh, then gestured toward a waiting maid. "Mary, see the young prince to his chambers." She pressed a kiss to Raymar's forehead before relinquishing him.
As the boy was led away, the Queen's playful air shifted. She reached for a crystal decanter, pouring deep-red wine into a goblet before pressing it into Tommen's hand.
"I do worry for Hosea, truly," she murmured, trailing her fingers lightly over his wrist. "He has been prying into the deaths of his mother and sister. Should he-"
A choked gasp cut her short.
Tommen's hand shot forth, encircling her throat in an iron grip.
Esmeralda clawed at his wrist, her eyes wide with alarm.
"I know what you've been about," Tommen growled, his blue eyes alight with fury. "Sending assassins after my son-my heir."
Her lips parted, straining for breath.
Tommen's grasp tightened.
Black spots danced at the edges of her vision. Just as oblivion neared, he released her.
She crumpled to the cold stone floor, coughing, fingers trembling over her bruised throat.
"I-I would never betray you, my king," she rasped. "I stand with you... always."
Tommen sneered, straightening the folds of his robe. "Oh, I know you would not dare." He turned toward the door, pausing but a moment.
"Yet mark this, Esmeralda-you are of no true consequence to me. And that makes you... disposable."
Without another word, he vanished into the corridor, his steps fading into the distance.
-----
Soft laughter danced upon the wind.
A boy's mirth. A girl's delighted giggles.
"Hosea, slow down! Take your sister's hand!"
The sun spilled golden light over rolling green fields. A little girl, no older than five, reached for her brother, her dark curls bouncing as she ran. Her wide, dark eyes shimmered with joy, freckles strewn across her cheeks like stardust.
"Brother, lift me!" she squealed.
Hosea, barely ten, swept her up with ease.
A woman's voice called from the meadow's edge, gentle yet firm. "Hera, time for your medicine."
She stepped into the sunlight, her beauty like something woven of dreams-long, dark hair cascading down her back, a white gown flowing like the wings of an angel.
"Mother," Hera pouted, retreating behind Hosea's legs. "I don't want to."
Hosea knelt, brushing a hand over his sister's cheek, unshed tears glistening in his blue eyes.
"Brother, why are you crying?"
Tiny fingers reached up, wiping away his sorrow.
"Mother, why does he weep?"
Celine knelt beside them, gathering them into her arms, pressing a soft kiss to Hosea's brow.
"I am always with you, my son."
Then-
The sky darkened. The wind howled.
A storm surged forth, sudden and violent, devouring the warmth of the sun.
"Hosea, run!" Celine's voice was no longer gentle-it was frantic. She seized Hera in her arms, dragging Hosea toward a small hut.
She shoved him inside.
"What of you?" Hosea cried, reaching desperately for her.
"Stay hidden! Do not emerge-no matter what! I love you!"
"No, Mother! Stay! There is space enough-please!"
The storm raged, a monster of wind and fury.
Hosea's fingers locked around her arm. "I won't lose you again!"
Celine smiled-a sorrowful, knowing smile.
"Let go, Hosea. It is too late."
She turned to Hera, pressing a final kiss upon her forehead.
"I am always with you."
Then, the wind wrenched them away.
"NOOOO-!!"
Reality Struck Like a Blade
Hosea bolted upright, gasping for air.
Sweat clung to his skin, his hands twisted into the damp sheets. His chest rose and fell in heaving breaths.
Tears slipped, silent and unbidden, down his cheeks as he curled his knees to his chest.
The past would never loosen its grip.