Sitting inside the clean and lovely library that Mr. Biken, the new librarian, had ticulously decorated, Ren skimd the pages of the book, but her mind wandered, unable to concentrate.
"So, the bird shifters are the only ones who can’t shift while wearing clothes?" Ren asked thoughtfully. She flipped another page absentmindedly and sighed, not being able to continue.
"Yes, Your Highness." Mr. Biken replied, observed her carefully, sensing his queen’s attention drifting far beyond their current discussion. "What troubles you, my Queen?"
Ren closed the book gently, shoulders lifting in a subtle shrug. "History."
His brows rose with interest. "I would be delighted to help. Please, if you have specific questions, do ask."
"Oh, really?" Ren exclaid, her excitent abruptly ignited. She glanced mischievously toward Gloria, whose mouth hung open in surprise.
"Gloria, you’ve finished your assignnt. Join us." Ren winked at her companion. Gloria swiftly caught on to Ren’s scheming expression.
"Of course, Your Grace." Gloria quickly abandoned her table and joined Ren’s table, which was now surrounded by stacks of history books, searching for details that had frustratingly evaded her.
"Everyone keeps speaking about His Highness’s brother and their father, discussing heritage and nurous other things. Yet, I barely know anything about Thegara or the shifters, apart from them being descendants of His Highness’s father and having lived in the Fae realm before the great war. I only know they broke a law, prompting King Xakiel to exile them."
Mr. Biken nodded slowly, carefully asuring his response. "Indeed, you possess only fragnts. His Highness’s father is known by several nas, but we typically use his Fae na," he paused, which for Ren lasted like ages, "Axaxeal."
Ren’s spine stiffened sharply, recognition chilling her to the bone. She knew that na intimately, though she wished otherwise. Axaxeal was one of the old Fae gods, lord of the eighth realm of the underworld, the realm reserved for the most heinous sinners. A shiver coursed violently through her, accelerating her heartbeat.
Oh, Gods! She vividly rembered the day at the temple when she’d gazed upon the imposing statue of the God of the Underworld, seeing the agitation flare in her husband’s eyes. Biting her lower lip, realization crashed upon her harshly this ti, her husband was the son of a demon god. Her Kaisun was a demon prince!
"My Lady, are you alright? You’ve grown pale."
Ren quickly rose to her feet, her palm pressed anxiously against her cheek. She had heard enough for one day. "Yes, yes, forgive ! I suddenly rembered I must speak with Butler Siamon."
Her heart hamred frantically as she rushed toward the living hall, barely aware of Arkilla and Gloria hurrying after her, their worried voices fading into white noise.
"Master Agara?" Ren called out, stepping through the crowd gathered in the entrance hall of the castle. She stared between the unconscious girl in a torn wedding gown held protectively in Agara’s arms, and a frightened little human boy clutching desperately at Siamon’s hand, his terrified blue eyes wide.
"I require your assistance!" Agara urgently acknowledged Ren’s presence, quickly pivoting and rushing toward the infirmary. Ren hurried after him, questions bursting chaotically through her mind. Who were these people? And where was Kaisun?
Walking anxiously beside Siamon, she quietly asked, "Where is His Highness? I cannot sense him, nor Shadow."
Ren grimaced slightly, realizing her husband had blocked their bond once again.
"His Highness was occupied handling urgent matters. He’ll return shortly," Siamon assured her.
Ren bit the inside of her cheek nervously. "You didn’t tell him about the eting, did you?"
The butler shook his head firmly. "I gave my word, Your Grace, and I never break my promises."
Ren exhaled a breath of relief, before asking further questions about the injured girl and the events in the Ice Land. The butler told her everything but before Siamon could finish off his answer, the little boy suddenly burst into tears, haunted by mories of his mother’s screams.
Ren halted imdiately, gently reaching out and pulling the sobbing child into a comforting embrace. Stroking his soft dark-brown hair, she inhaled deeply. Garlic? Siamon despised garlic, and Luther couldn’t sense humans whose scent was masked by it. Now, Ren was absolutely certain, these people were true descendants of the demon god. Perhaps all those bedti stories, those terrifying tales, were not re children’s fables after all.
As a child, Aunt Eve had whispered stories of sinful souls being claid by Axaxeal, the demon god. The realization hit Ren again, harder. She was married to Axaxeal’s son; one of his nurous progeny. Did Aunt Eve know? Was that the reason for the worry and fear that darkened her eyes on Ren’s wedding night? Her father must have known as well, and surely her uncle, the King, who orchestrated her fate, had been fully aware.
"Hush now, little one," she whispered tenderly. "I’m sorry about your mommy."
Gradually, the child’s trembling subsided, comforted by Ren’s warm embrace.
"I will take care of you. Don’t fear these people. They are kind. See there? That’s my friend, Gloria; she’s human, just like you and . And that’s Arkilla, strong and gentle."
Gloria and Arkilla waved warmly at the child, who studied them cautiously, curiosity peeking through his fear.
Gloria stepped closer, smiling softly. "What’s your na?"
"Dave," the child whispered shyly.
"Dave! Such a lovely na," Gloria bead reassuringly. "Would you like to co with ?"
Dave glanced nervously at Ren, silently seeking permission.
"Yes, go with her," Ren encouraged gently. "She’ll give you fresh clothes, and you’ll et other children."
With newfound trust, Dave reached out to Gloria, who eagerly scooped him up in her arms.
"Take good care of him, Gloria," Ren urged.
Gloria bowed respectfully, eyes twinkling with determination. "You can count on , Your Grace." She left swiftly, though burning with curiosity about Ren’s strange reaction upon hearing Axaxeal’s na.
Inside the infirmary, Ren approached healer Rigo, who carefully examined the infected girl.
"Her heart stopped briefly. I’ve halted the bleeding and revived her, but the fever still rages," Agara explained gravely.
"Vampish fever," Ren corrected quietly.
"Do you know how to treat it, Your Grace?" Rigo asked with cautious hope.
Ren’s eyes darkened, mories surfacing sharply. "All apprentices in Zillgaira were taught about this fever. We cared for soldiers suffering from it, trying nurous redies. But... none ever succeeded completely and we lost..." She didn’t want to say the last word...
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