Chapter 49: Secrets don't last forever.
Ava’s POV
“Gwendolyn Saraif,” Raphael announced, his voice cutting through the air like a blade, “your request is granted.”
The words struck me like a jolt. Shock rippled through me, accompanied by something else, an ache I couldn’t quite name. Sadness, perhaps? Disappointment? I didn’t know. Still, I understood why Gwen hadn’t told me. This was her truth, her secret, the burden she carried alone.
The murmurs in the hall rose like a tide, whispers spilling from every corner. Through them, I caught fragments of her past. Gwen was meant to be a queen in her coven, chosen by the deity itself. Yet, she was made a slave, and now she is standing before everyone, boldly painting out a different destiny from the one that had been given to her.
My thoughts drifted to Raphael. Slowly, I raised my gaze at him. His sharp eyes flicked toward me, piercing, unreadable. I looked away, my head bowing as I replayed the chaos of the evening, Raphael’s swift justice, Jorah’s severed hand, the metallic stench of blood lingering in the air.
Why does he care so much? The question coiled in my mind, persistent and unanswered. His wolf, perhaps? Back at Moonstone, he claimed it was his wolf that was drawn to me. But could it be more than instinct? Could Raphael truly care for me? My thoughts swirled like a storm, restless and unyielding.
It didn’t make sense. A man like him, powerful, ruthless, and feared, what could he possibly want from someone like me? I sipped my drink, its bitterness matching the turmoil inside me.
And then, my thoughts returned to Gwen. Her calm amidst Raphael’s fury unsettled me. When Jorah’s hand hit the floor, and chaos erupted, I was expecting her to be scared and screaming like everyone, but she hadn’t flinched. It was as if she had anticipated it, as if she had already made peace with whatever storm that was going to come.
“Are you alright?” Gwen’s voice pulled me back to the present. She stood before me, her face steady, her emerald eyes shadowed by something I couldn’t name.
“I should be asking you that,” I replied, setting my cup down. “You just changed your life in front of everyone.”
She offered a faint smile, one that barely touched the surface. “Come with me,” she said, her tone quiet but firm.
I hesitated briefly before nodding. Perhaps tonight was the night for sharing secrets.
“Where are you going?” Raphael’s voice echoed in my mind, his tone sharp, possessive.
“To speak with Gwen.”
"Alright. I will be waiting for you in our room." Your room, Raphael, not mine. If Gwen married Anastasia, then who would Raphael marry? Could it be us? Maya whispered, her voice tinged with curiosity. I hope not. I pushed the thought away. I wasn’t cut out to be a queen, nor did I want to be. Besides, slaves can't be queens.
Gwen and I walked through dimly lit corridors, leaving the noise of the hall behind until it was nothing more than a faint sound. She led me to a small balcony, where the night air wrapped around us, cool and soothing.
“I suppose you’re wondering why,” she began, her voice soft as the wind.
“You could say that,” I replied. “Why her, Gwen? And why now?”
She leaned against the railing, her hands gripping the cold metal. “Because I had to,” she said, her words sharp, almost brittle.
I waited, giving her the space to speak.
“I wasn’t always like this,” she began, her voice carrying the weight of memories. “Back in my coven, they called me weak. A disgrace to my family. My younger sister, Laura Saraif, was everything I wasn’t; beautiful, strong, clever. Adored by everyone. They wanted her to rule, even my father.”
Her words painted a picture of a life I understood too well. The burden of expectations, the constant whispers of inadequacy.
“But there was a problem,” she continued, her tone hardening. “The deity chose me, not Laura. No matter how much they wanted her to rule, they couldn’t take the crown from me, since I have been marked by mother deity. So they did the next best thing they knew best. It was to make my life miserable. They made my life a living hell. Every failure, every misstep, they twisted it into proof that I wasn’t worthy of the crown. And then...they found out about Anastasia.”
The name hung in the air like a fragile thread.
“Anastasia,” I repeated, the word foreign yet familiar. The image of the elegant lady I’d fought during the competition came to mind.
“She was my childhood friend,” Gwen said, her voice softening. “And later...more than that. Anastasia was everything I wanted to be and couldn't be. But her life wasn’t as perfect as it seemed. Her family treated her horribly, they were monsters. so we kept our relationship secret for as long as we could. But secrets don’t last forever.”
I nodded, already guessing what came next.
“When they found out, my father and the coven elders gave me a choice, my life or hers.”
A chill ran through me. “And you chose her.”
“I had to,” she said, her voice trembling. “I couldn’t let them hurt her. She had already been hurt enough, I couldn't add to it. But it didn’t end there. My father and the coven wanted to make an example of me. They planned to sacrifice me to the deity, to show what happens to weak leaders. That’s when King Raphael found me. I was fortunate enough to have been saved.”
I studied her, seeing the cracks in her carefully constructed walls. Beneath her calm exterior lay a fighter, someone who had clawed her way out of the darkness.
“So when the Arcane competition gave me the chance to ask for anything, I chose her again,” Gwen said, meeting my gaze. “I don’t know if he’ll actually make it happen, but now the court knows. They’ll have to take it seriously.”
I nodded, her words settling heavily on my heart. “And what if Anastasia doesn’t feel the same?”
Her lips curved into a sad smile. “Then at least I’ll know I tried.”
The wind carried her words away, leaving us in silence. Somewhere in the distance, the faint sounds of the court resumed, insignificant against the weight of her truth.
“You know,” she said, breaking the silence, “you’ll have to stay away from me now. If you don’t, they’ll make your life miserable. I am, after all, the first woman in the realm asking to marry another woman.”
I placed a hand on hers, meeting her gaze. “ I couldn’t care less about the others, Gwen. All I want is for you to be happy. You fought hard for this. We’re friends, aren’t we? I’m not leaving your side.
Unless you ask me to. ”
Her smile, this time, was real. “Thank you, Ava.”
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