Mother's Love

Elara's smile slowly faded, replaced by a wary expression as she left the prince's lounge, her steps measured and deliberate as she walked through the passageway that separated his quarters from hers. 

She bit the inside of her right cheek, her face contorting slightly as if in the midst of holding back pain. Her pace quickened, her fingers clutching her dress tightly against her chest.

"Your Grace, why have you returned so soon?" Lyla, who had been waiting for her in the hall, asked with confusion. She had assumed Elara wouldn't return to her quarters tonight, but clearly, that wasn't the case.

"Lyla, prepare the carriage quietly and send for Lurca." Elara's words were clipped, not missing a beat as she hastened her way back to her chambers.

"Now, Your Grace? But it's past sunset. Where would you go?" Lyla, still following her, came to a sudden halt as Elara stopped abruptly, turning on her heel to face her.

"Seer Nuntius. I… I need to see him now." Elara's face was troubled, her tone firm and serious.

Lyla, who had been filled with excitement at the thought of the Marquess and Marchioness spending the night together, now wore a downcast expression at the mention of Seer Nuntius.

"Is your chest aching again?" Lyla asked, worry lacing her voice.

"That's one reason. But I need to ask him something." Elara's gaze hardened, her resolve clear.

"Can't we wait until tomorrow morning, Your Grace?"

"We don't have time. Tomorrow, we'll be busy with the feast celebration. And... this is the last night we can slip away from the castle quietly." Elara pondered for a moment, "From here on, our castle will only grow louder."

Lyla wanted to protest further, but she kept her thoughts to herself, lowering her head in resignation. "Yes, Your Grace. I'll do as you command."

"Hm. Make haste." Elara's voice was barely above a murmur, yet the urgency was palpable.

***

Elara sat in the carriage when Lyla knocked quickly on the window. She opened it slowly, letting the cold autumn breeze hit her face.

"Lurca, Your Grace," a boy in a worn woolen hood lowered his head as he faced Elara.

"Find those in the capital who can be trusted for underhanded work. I shall pay no matter how much valleons they ask for."

"What kind of work do you want from them, Your Grace?"

"Anything from gathering information to stalking... and if needed,"—she paused for a moment—"torture that leads to death. I need people like that." Elara's breath grew faster, her eyes furious.

Lurca looked taken aback by her request, but after a soft sigh, he nodded. "I shall do as you command, Your Grace." He turned on his heel and dashed off, disappearing into the darkness.

Lyla quickly climbed into the carriage and signaled the coachman to hurry to their destination.

The pounding hooves of the horses cut through the stillness of the night, echoing in rhythm with the thudding of Lyla's own heart.

She dared not break the silence, her eyes fixed on Elara, who sat lost in thought, her gaze distant and troubled.

"Someone messed with my letters, Lyla. All the letters I sent to the prince over the years were swapped—or perhaps not all of them were sent. I… I don't know…" Elara finally spoke, her voice trembling slightly as it broke the quiet.

Lyla's heart skipped a beat, her lips parting in stunned disbelief. "Your Grace…"

"The Prince asked this afternoon why I didn't mention Agatha in my letters." Elara's voice was quiet, almost detached.

Lyla leaned forward slightly, her brow furrowing. "And you told him, Your Grace?"

Elara shook her head. "I couldn't bring myself to tell him the truth." Her hands clenched tightly around the fabric of her cloak. "All our letters went through Vallatia palace, didn't they?"

Lyla nodded quickly. "Yes, Your Grace. The Palace messenger comes every six months to collect the supplies for the battlefield. That includes the letters, since we can't use carrier pigeons during war."

Elara's lips pressed into a thin line, her jaw tense. "So, this person must be someone higher in the Palace."

"Oh, Your Grace, who could possibly do that, and why?" Lyla asked, her eyes widening worriedly.

Elara's breath caught, her voice lowering with a mix of quiet fury and fear. "Whoever that person is, they don't want the Prince to know that Agatha exists, and… either they want the Prince to die, or they want Agatha to."

"That's… that's horrible..." Lyla stammered, her voice laced with fear.

"It's still just my speculation, I'm not sure myself."

Lyla blinked rapidly, her mind racing. "Ah, is that why you want to meet Seer Nuntius, Your Grace?"

Elara nodded faintly. "Hm… The last time we went to his shrines, he said that Agatha might be in danger when the Prince returns, but at the time, it was like he was possessed, speaking in riddles. I need to ask him again."

It was customary for the people of Valloria to never take a possessed seer's words lightly. Blessed by the Moon Goddess, they were revered as prophets, gifted with divine revelations. 

Lyla's lips parted, hesitant. "And how about what you asked Lurca, Your Grace?"

Elara shifted in her seat, her eyes burning with determination as she met Lyla's gaze. "I need to find the one who messed with the letters."

Lyla's breath hitched, her eyes flashing with concern. "And... will you torture them until death when you find them?" The words slipped out before she could stop herself, and she immediately clamped a hand over her mouth, realising her outburst.

Elara glanced at her, then turned her gaze to the opened window, her eyes dark with thoughts. She strained her eyes in the darkness, trying to gauge whether their destination was near. 

"I don't even know what I'd do with them yet. But I do know one thing… I need a strong companion to dig into this matter." Her voice shook, betraying her anxious determination.

The chilly night air didn't compel Elara to close the carriage window. Perhaps she hoped the cold wind might cool the burning thoughts tormenting her about the endless possibilities of her daughter being in danger. 

Elara had harbored an uneasy feeling ever since she first sent Prince Reynand letters announcing her pregnancy, Agatha's birth, and even the baby's milestones as she grew. 

Yet the Prince's replies were indifferent at best, never once mentioning Agatha. Often, there wasn't a reply at all. 

It would've been easier for Elara to admit that she had written to Prince Reynand about Agatha in her letters. But deep down, she doubted he'd believe her. 

What if he thought Agatha was a mistake—just as he had called that night before he left for war? 

From that moment, Elara knew she could no longer place her trust in anyone within the Royal Court. And now, with all the political affairs he brought back, she resolved to face this matter on her own—to protect her daughter, no matter the cost. 

The carriage came to a stop in front of the shrine. Lyla got down first, her eyes widening at the sight before her, her jaw dropping.

"Your Grace... Wh—what…" She was at a loss for words.

Elara heard Lyla stammering, urging her to get down quickly. As she placed one foot onto the ground, she froze. 

The shrine grounds, usually neat and lit by sacred torches, were now in disarray, completely devoid of light. 

She grabbed one of the torches lying on the ground and lit it with the one from the carriage.

"Your Grace, this place looks dangerous. Shall we not better go back?" the coachman warned.

"It seems this place has been abandoned for some time. No sign of life anywhere. I'll be fine," Elara replied. She had to believe she would be fine. 

The soul-eaters from Gravalon's dark magic could still be roaming, but with the war over, she should be safe from that threat... shouldn't she?

She gripped her cloak tightly, her fingers trembling as she moved forward. She didn't know where this sudden bravery had come from. She only knew she had to find the divine message for her daughter. 

Perhaps it was a mother's love that had given her this courage—the kind of love that made her willing to face anything, no matter how terrifying.

Stepping onto the shrine grounds, Elara crunched over broken stone and scattered splinters of fence, as if the place had been hit by an earthquake. 

But as she climbed the steps toward the shrine, it became clear to her—this wasn't damage from an earthquake. No, this place had been torn apart by a brutal fight.

The scent of iron mixed with the dry ashes of incense stung Elara's nose as she opened the door and entered the shrine. 

She swept the torchlight across the room, narrowing her eyes when she saw dark, dried blood staining the floor near the offering altar.

When she reached the altar, her brow furrowed as she noticed something else, the blood had formed an arrow-shaped pattern, almost as if it had been deliberately drawn by a trembling hand. 

Her heart raced as she followed the trail, feeling a cold sweat cling to the grip of the torch. The arrow led her to a drawer with a single compartment. 

Elara opened it and found nothing. But...

This drawer wasn't like any ordinary one. From the front, it seemed to hold only a single compartment. Yet, she had often seen Seer Nuntius slide it forward, revealing a hidden compartment tucked at the back. She had always wondered why it was built that way, and tonight, she finally uncovered one of the reasons.

With trembling hands, Elara turned the drawer and reached for the concealed compartment at the back. Her breath hitched as she opened it, revealing a tightly wrapped bundle alongside a pile of papers and letters.

The familiar scent of the herbal remedies Seer Nuntius had given her for her chest pains lingered in the air. She pulled out the bundle, gripping it tightly as her gaze lingered on the stack of papers and letters.

For a moment, she hesitated, but the chilly atmosphere sent a shiver down her spine, coaxing her to take them all.

She turned toward Lyla, who was still nervously scanning the room with her torch.

"Lyla... let's go back."