Forbidden Desires: Conquering Kingdoms And Women In a Fantasy World! Chapter 30: The Queen of Briaran [2]

The air inside Aldan’s modest dwelling felt thick with quite tension. What had once been a simple village ho—with its rough-hewn wooden beams, stone hearth blackened by countless fires, and floors worn smooth by years of humble living—now hosted the most powerful woman in the kingdom. Queen Emma of Briaran sat with an elegance that seed to transform the very space around her, her presence lending an unexpected grandeur to the humble surroundings.

Beside her, Princess Judith appeared smaller sohow, though no less regal in her own right.

For a village that had never seen nobility beyond the occasional traveling rchant’s tale, this was beyond comprehension. Even Aldan, despite his forr status as a Baron, seed montarily overwheld by the magnitude of royalty gracing his threshold. The wooden chair—his best, though hardly fit for a queen—creaked softly as Queen Emma shifted, yet she bore herself with such dignity that it might as well have been a throne.

"You stand in the presence of Her Majesty, Queen Emma of Briaran," announced Olivia, the Queen’s personal guard.

Anyone with proper education—anyone who had grown up in noble circles or even among the rchant class—would have heard about the Queen of Briaran from the nearby Kingdom. But I was not anyone with proper education.

I had heard whispers of Queen Emma in marketplace gossip. Beautiful, they said. Intelligent. Ruthless when necessary. But these were distant concepts, tales of soone who existed in a world far removed from my own reality.

Now, studying her face, I could see why n spoke of her beauty even in hushed political discussions. Her features were refined without being delicate, her chestnut hair swept back to reveal intelligent green eyes that seed to miss nothing. There was sothing in her bearing—a natural authority that had nothing to do with crown or ceremony—that made it impossible to imagine her as anything other than a queen.

Besides once again she was totally my type of woman.

"It is an honor, Your Majesty," Aldan said, his voice taking on a formal cadence I had never heard from him before. He dropped to one knee with fluid grace, placing his right hand over his heart in the traditional gesture of fealty.

A long silence stretched through the room like a held breath. I beca aware of eyes upon —not just curious glances, but expectant stares. When I finally looked up, I realized the entire room was waiting for sothing.

I blinked, genuinely confused. "I already told my na," I said, the words coming out more defensive than I intended.

The temperature in the room seed to drop several degrees. Olivia and Oliver, the royal siblings who served as guards, fixed with identical glares that could have frozen water. Their expressions were mirrors of indignation, as if I had committed so unforgivable breach of etiquette.

"You have to greet my mother respectfully," Princess Judith sighed her cheeks flushed with embarrassnt and frustration. Her hands were clenched in her lap, and I could see her struggling between mortification at my behavior and gratitude for what I had done.

The word ’respectfully’ hung in the air as I proceeded it. I felt the familiar knot of rebellion form in my stomach—that instinctive resistance to bowing, to showing deference to another human being simply because of their birth or title. Who was she, really? Flesh and blood like the rest of us, despite the finery and the formal address. Why should I kneel?

It was probably because of my ego of Jas Trevills speaking there.

But as I looked around the room, taking in the shocked faces and the palpable tension, I realized this wasn’t about my personal philosophy. This was about survival in a world that operated by rules I was still learning to navigate.

"It’s fine."

The Queen’s voice rang when I had been preparing to lower myself to one knee. A slight smile played at the corners of her mouth.

"The savior of my daughter need not bow to ," she continued.

Princess Judith’s face turned an even deeper shade of red, and she looked down at her hands with obvious embarrassnt. Whether it was from being called out as needing rescue or from her mother’s unexpected leniency, I couldn’t tell.

"Now," Queen Emma said, settling back in her chair and folding her hands in her lap, "care to explain to exactly what happened?"

Aldan cleared his throat and began the tale. "Your Majesty, from what I understand, Harold here and Lisa were conducting their usual hunting expedition in the Greenwood Forest when they encountered a band of brigands..."

As he spoke, I found myself studying the faces around . The Queen listened with the stillness of soone accustod to hearing difficult truths. Her expression remained neutral, but I caught the subtle tightening around her eyes when Aldan ntioned the bandits, the slight forward lean when he described the kidnapping.

Olivia and Oliver stood like statues, but their hands never strayed far from their weapons. Professional sha radiated from them—the knowledge that their charge had been taken on their watch, that strangers had accomplished what they had failed to do.

"They discovered three large sacks," Aldan continued, "and upon investigation, found three individuals who had been taken captive. The princess was among them, along with two other children."

When it ca ti for to add my own details, I chose my words carefully. The truth was a luxury I couldn’t afford—not when it ca to explaining exactly how I had single-handedly dispatched multiple ard bandits. Instead, I wove a careful fiction, placing Lisa at the center of the violence while positioning myself as little more than a fortunate bystander who managed to luckily save Princess Judith at least indirectly.

"Lisa—my hunting partner—she’s the one who really saved everyone," I said, eting the Queen’s gaze directly.

It was more believable that Lisa did it than actually so it was better to say that.

Queen Emma’s expression grew cold as the story concluded, like winter settling over a landscape. The warmth that had touched her features earlier was gone, replaced by sothing harder and more dangerous.

"Forgive , Your Majesty," Oliver spoke, his voice thick with sha. He bowed his head, his fists clenched. "I should have been more watchful. The responsibility for the princess’s safety was mine, and I failed in that duty."

"No, Sir Oliver," Princess Judith interjected, her voice trembling slightly. "The fault is mine. I was foolish—I wandered away from your protection. I gave them the opportunity they needed. Your vigilance was perfect; my judgnt was lacking."

Queen Emma’s gaze shifted between the two of them, and when she spoke. "Indeed, you have nothing to feel guilty about, my dear, but I do hope the sa mistake will not be made twice."

The words were directed at Judith, but their real target was clear. Oliver straightened as if struck, his jaw tightening with renewed determination.

"Yes, Your Majesty," he said. "It will not happen again."

Queen Emma then turned her attention to .

"You said their leader was called Arlos?" She asked.

"Yes," I replied, allowing annoyance to creep into my voice. "And he escaped, unfortunately."

"You don’t seem happy about it," Queen Emma observed, her tone suggesting she had noticed more than just my words.

The truth was, I wasn’t happy about it. Arlos had looked at with recognition—not of my face, but of sothing else. Sothing that suggested our paths had crossed before, or would cross again. The mory of his escape left with an unsettled feeling, as if I had left a dangerous thread loose that would eventually weave itself into a noose.

"A man who makes his living kidnapping innocent people shouldn’t be allowed to continue," I said carefully. "He’ll do this again to soone else."

Queen Emma nodded slowly, her expression thoughtful. "Indeed. And n like that rarely work alone for long. They gather others like them, create networks of violence and terror." She paused, continuing to stare at . "You seem to understand sothing about such n."

She had very good eyes.

"I understand that so people choose to prey on the innocent," I said. "And I understand that soone has to stop them."

A ghost of a smile crossed Queen Emma’s lips. "Spoken like soone who has given the matter considerable thought."

"I am just fearing that he will co back for vengeance and attack our village," I said, voicing the worry that had been gnawing at since the mont I watched him disappear into the forest shadows.

The effect of my words was imdiate for Aldan. His weathered face drained of color, the confident bearing he had maintained in front of royalty cracking like a facade. His eyes widened as the implication hit him—this wasn’t just about a failed kidnapping attempt. This was about potential retaliation against the village.

"I... I hadn’t considered..." He began, his voice trailing off as scenarios played out behind his eyes. The village had no real defenses, no trained guards beyond a few n who could swing a sword adequately. If Arlos returned with reinforcents, seeking to make an example of the place that had cost him his prize...

"Fear not," Queen Emma spoke, her voice cutting through Aldan’s growing panic. "Now that I know his na, I will make sure he is found and dealt with during my ti at the Capital."

The Capital. Of course she was heading there—it was the logical next step for soone of her station. But the casual way she ntioned it made wonder about the specifics. A eting with King Aldric of Lorendia, certainly, but what kind of eting? Political alliance? Trade negotiations? Or sothing more pressing that required a queen to travel personally rather than send ambassadors?

"How do you know he’s at the Capital?" I asked then.

The way she said it it sounded like Arlos would be in the capital.

Oliver stepped forward, his expression suggesting he found my question sowhat naive. "We weren’t wandering around aimlessly the past day," he said with barely concealed condescension. "When the Princess was taken, we imdiately began tracking and gathering intelligence. Every lead, every witness, every scrap of information pointed toward the Capital’s underworld."

That made sense, actually. A kidnapping of royal blood wouldn’t be a random cri—it would be orchestrated, planned, connected to larger networks of power and influence. The kind of networks that inevitably led back to major population centers where anonymity could be bought and sold like any other commodity.

Oliver’s eyes suddenly lit up with what he clearly considered a stroke of genius. He leaned closer to Queen Emma, lowering his voice to a conspiratorial whisper that everyone in the room could still hear. "Your Majesty, wouldn’t it be better to ask him to follow us to find that Arlos? He saw his face after all, could identify him in a crowd."

"Princess Judith also saw him," I pointed out, not particularly eager to volunteer for what sounded like a dangerous assignnt in an unfamiliar city.

Oliver’s glare could have lted steel. "Do you expect the Princess to conduct field investigations with us? To skulk through taverns and back alleys, questioning criminals and cutthroats?"

The image was admittedly ridiculous—Princess Judith, in her fine clothes and refined manner, attempting to blend in with the Capital’s criminal underworld. But his tone suggested he found my very question offensive, as if I had suggested sothing improper about royal conduct.

"Hmm, that’s a good point," Queen Emma said thoughtfully, her fingers drumming against the arm of her chair. "But if he doesn’t want to go, we could ask that girl—Lisa, was it?—who was with him. She’s older, more experienced, and she can also recognize the man."

My heart sank. There was absolutely no way Lisa would leave the village right now, not with Riley and Zoey in her care. The two children had been through enough trauma; they needed stability, familiarity, the security of knowing their guardian wasn’t going to disappear on so dangerous mission to a distant city.

Besides, Lisa had already made her feelings clear about traveling to the Capital. When I had ntioned it in passing weeks ago, she had looked at as if I’d suggested jumping off a cliff.

So what were my options, really? Let a dangerous criminal roam free, potentially gathering resources for revenge? Allow the royal guard to fumble around the Capital without soone who could actually identify their target? Or accept that sotis circumstances forced your hand, regardless of personal preferences?

I scratched my hair. "I need to talk about it with my mother."

As expected if I could eliminate the threat of Arlos who knew what I was capable of, I would be much more at ease.

"Go ahead," Queen Emma said with a gracious nod. "Olivia will accompany you."

Olivia looked surprised at the assignnt, but she nodded with professional acceptance. Apparently, even royal guards didn’t always know what their next duty would be.

I didn’t waste ti dwelling on the decision. The sooner I got this conversation over with, the sooner I could figure out how to navigate this new complication in my life. I headed for the door, with Olivia falling into step behind .

"So you’re Queen Emma’s personal guard?" I asked, partly out of curiosity and partly to fill the silence.

Olivia maintained her professional deanor, staring straight ahead without acknowledging the question.

"Or maybe more of a maid?" I tried again, deliberately adopting a more casual tone. "You seem too young to be her bodyguard."

That struck a nerve. Olivia’s jaw tightened, and she finally deigned to respond. "I am Her Majesty’s guard, and I am quite capable of protecting her. You’re hardly one to speak about being young," she said, her voice carrying a note of irritation at my familiar manner of speaking.

Fair point. In this world, I was barely into my teens, even if my previous life had given a different perspective on maturity. But there was sothing about Olivia’s defensive response that suggested she’d heard similar dismissals before.

"You should remove your helt," I said, noting how she kept adjusting it as we walked. "It looks uncomfortable."

Olivia frowned but seed to consider the suggestion practical. After a mont’s hesitation, she reached up and lifted the steel helt from her head, revealing a cascade of curly blonde hair that caught the last rays of sunlight beautifully.

"Wow," I said, genuinely impressed. "You’re quite the beauty."

And she was—strikingly so. Not at Queen Emma’s level of refined elegance, but Olivia possessed the kind of natural beauty that would have made her a star in my previous world. High cheekbones, clear skin, and those light brown eyes that seed to see everything.

Her frown deepened at the complint, as if she found it more annoying than flattering.

"How old did you say you were?" She asked, clearly trying to change the subject.

"Thirteen, but I’m into older won," I replied.

"And I’m not interested in boys," she shot back without missing a beat.

"Then when I’m a man in a few years, you might be interested?" I pressed, curious to see how far I could push this conversation.

"I’m not interested in n either," she added firmly.

Now that was interesting. "Are you into won? Like maybe you love your Queen?" I asked.

"You!" Olivia’s face flushed with indignation. "How disrespectfully can you be!"

"I apologize," I said, though I wasn’t particularly sorry. "But when I saw how devoted you were, and after you said you weren’t interested in n, I thought you might be into won instead."

"I am not interested in romance at all!" Olivia declared, her voice rising slightly. "I am a Knight of the Queen’s Guard. My duty is to serve and protect, not to... to engage in frivolous romantic entanglents."

"Is there a rule that female knights can’t have relationships with n?" I asked with a laugh.

Olivia looked at as if she’d reached the absolute limit of her patience. "Just tell where your house is," she said through gritted teeth.

"Just here," I said, pointing ahead.

When Olivia followed my gaze, her jaw dropped open in obvious shock.