The Cold Truth

The air in the Queen's private apartments was charged with tension. Outside, morning mist clung to the windows, muffling the usual bustle of palace life. Within, Charlotte stood tall, unwavering, facing her mother—the Queen—who remained poised as ever, but today, the atmosphere felt different. The long-hidden truth was finally about to be brought into the light.

Charlotte had returned from her investigation with Mira and Elias. She had pieced together the fragments of hidden history, and now she needed the answers. This confrontation, though inevitable, had been carefully planned. Nothing could have prepared her for the weight of what was about to unfold.

"Mother," Charlotte's voice rang with controlled authority, but it carried an edge—sharp, unmistakable. "There's something you need to tell me."

The Queen, sitting at her dressing table, glanced up from the mirror as she applied her powder. Her hands stilled mid-motion, and her gaze turned cold, though a flicker of something deeper—something darker—passed through her eyes. She placed the brush down carefully, her fingers lingering on the delicate fabric of her gown.

"I've already told you everything you need to know, Charlotte," she said, her voice smooth and distant, yet there was an undeniable weariness in her tone. It wasn't the fatigue of age, but something far older—something far heavier.

Charlotte took a step closer, her heels clicking sharply on the marble floor. "Not everything," she pressed, her gaze unwavering. "I know about the child. The one you kept hidden. The one who disappeared after the blood moon."

The Queen's face paled, and the usual regality in her posture faltered. Her expression tightened, then quickly smoothed over, a well-practiced mask slipping back into place. But Charlotte saw it—the faint flicker of something buried deep beneath the surface, something that trembled at the thought of the truth being unveiled.

"You have no right to know about that," the Queen's voice turned cold, almost imperious, though Charlotte could hear the strain in it. "Some things are better left forgotten."

"I have every right," Charlotte snapped, her voice sharp with growing intensity. "I am your daughter. I deserve to know the truth. And if you truly care about me, then you will stop hiding behind your lies and tell me what I need to hear."

The Queen's lips pressed into a thin line, and for a long moment, the only sound was the distant echo of footsteps in the hall. Then, with a deep sigh, the Queen straightened in her seat and turned to face Charlotte, her posture slackening as if the weight of the moment was finally breaking through her defenses.

"Very well," the Queen said, her voice low, almost a whisper. "I suppose you have the right to hear it."

Charlotte's pulse quickened, and she braced herself for what was to come. The room felt smaller suddenly, the walls closing in as the truth drew near.

"Your child—whom you speak of—was my firstborn," the Queen began, her eyes distant as though she were speaking to herself, lost in the past. "Before your father and I were ever truly married, before I became Queen, I gave birth to a child—a daughter."

Charlotte's breath caught in her chest, and she took a step back. She had suspected it, but hearing it spoken aloud—this revelation—was something entirely different. Her world tilted.

"The child was… different," the Queen continued, her voice thickening, the weight of the memory pressing down on her. "She was born under the blood moon, the night of the prophecy. The one that spoke of a child who could either save or destroy this kingdom. That child was meant to fulfill that prophecy."

Charlotte's mind spun as the implications hit her all at once. The prophecy. The child. Everything began to align, but she could hardly keep up with the flood of revelation.

"I did what I thought was best at the time," the Queen said, her voice growing colder, harder. "I took things into my own hands, believing I could keep her safe from the world, from those who would use her. I hid her away. I gave her to the rider, made sure she was lost to history. I ensured no one would ever find her."

Charlotte's stomach churned. "You abandoned your own child?" Her voice was a whisper of disbelief.

The Queen's eyes darkened, and her lips curled into a bitter smile. "I did what I had to do. The King was a fool. He could never see the bigger picture. When he discovered what I had done, he despised me for it. But even he couldn't deny that I was trying to protect this kingdom. Trying to save us all."

Charlotte felt a shiver crawl down her spine as the pieces of the puzzle snapped into place. "And the King… he sent you to the Cold Palace because of it?"

The Queen's smile faltered, and she nodded grimly. "Yes. He understood what I had done, but he could never forgive me. He banished me to the Cold Palace, where I was forgotten. Cast aside, all because of what I did to our firstborn."

Charlotte's chest tightened. The truth was like a weight pressing down on her, but she couldn't look away. The story of her mother—the woman who had always seemed untouchable—was not one of power or grace, but one of tragedy and regret.

"And after all these years… after all this time, you've hidden it from me. You've concealed the truth," Charlotte murmured, the betrayal stinging like an open wound.

The Queen's eyes softened just a fraction, but there was no apology in them. Only resignation. "I wanted to protect you. I wanted you to grow up free from the burden of this past. But now you're old enough. You're ready to understand what's at stake."

Charlotte took a deep breath, steadying herself. She had never imagined hearing such a confession. The weight of it, the complexity of it, was suffocating. But it also cleared the fog in her mind. Now, the future seemed clearer than ever, and she could no longer ignore the path that lay before her.

"I understand now," Charlotte whispered, her voice firm, her gaze unwavering. "I understand what must be done."

The Queen met her gaze with something unreadable. "And what will you do with this knowledge, Charlotte?"

Charlotte stood tall, her posture regal despite the turmoil inside her. "I will do what must be done. For the kingdom. For the future. And for my own place in all of this."

The Queen's lips twitched, almost as if she were suppressing a smile, but her eyes remained distant. "Then you are truly my daughter."