Chapter CXXXV: Ask

The Dragon King departed Allendor, his crimson cloak trailing behind him as he mounted his dragon. The skies were his domain, and as the great wings of his beast beat against the wind, his mind drifted to the task at hand. He needed to inform his sister, Rhea, of the news that would change the course of their kingdom’s future—that Isabella, his former concubine and now the queen of Allendor, had accepted his proposal. There would be no need to muster his armies against her again. War had been averted.

“You’ve returned,” Rhea said, her tone clipped. “I assume with good news?”

Alaric nodded. “There will be no need for war. Isabella and I came to an agreement.”

Rhea’s lips curled into a small, knowing smile. “So, the Red Queen yields to the Dragon King.”

“Not yields,” Alaric corrected her. “She will marry me, we’ll be together as king and queen.”

Rhea arched an eyebrow, sensing the subtle difference in his tone. “And where is she? Will she come to join us here?”

“Not yet.” He said. "Isabella is pregnant. She decided it was best for her to stay in Rosehall until after the child is born."

Rhea blinked, her brow furrowing in confusion. “She’s... pregnant? With her husband’s chil…”

Alaric’s eyes darkened for a moment. “Her husband is dead.”

Rhea tilted her head, still processing. “And the child she’s carrying...?”

Alaric straightened in his chair. “It’s mine. We… We were together during the second battle of Rosehall.”

Rhea's expression shifted from confusion to skepticism. Her lips pressed into a thin line, eyes narrowing slightly. “Are you sure?” she asked, her tone careful. “She was married to another man. How can you be certain that this child is yours?”

Alaric gave her a long, knowing look. “I know what you're thinking, Rhea. But Isabella wouldn’t lie about this. Besides, she has no reason to. What would she gain from claiming the child is mine? She was married for political reasons, having a bastard child wouldn’t benefit her in any way.”

Rhea sat back, folding her arms, her face a mask of contemplation. “Perhaps... Well, you do sound like a different man, brother.”

Alaric met her gaze. “Maybe I am.”

Rhea’s eyes softened, and a small, incredulous smile tugged at her lips. “The brother I grew up with wouldn’t go this far for a woman. He wouldn’t take so many risks.”

He chuckled softly. “She changed me.”

Rhea studied him, then sighed, a hint of fondness in her voice. “Love does change everything, doesn’t it?”

Alaric nodded, his eyes distant for a moment, as if thinking of the woman who had captured his heart. “Yes. It does.”

Rhea, always practical, sighed. “Then go back to her, brother. Your place is with her now, not here. I will continue to hold things together in your absence.”

Alaric smiled, a rare and genuine expression. “Thank you, Rhea.”

***

Without wasting time, Alaric made arrangements to return to Allendor as quickly as possible. Days later, he found himself standing once more before the palace gates of Allendor, the vast sea stretching behind him. He entered the familiar halls, eager to see Isabella.

She was waiting for him in her chambers, reclining on a cushioned bench by the window, her hands resting on her swollen belly. The sight of her brought a flood of emotions, stronger than he had anticipated. Despite everything they had been through—the war, the betrayals, the heartbreak—she was here, waiting for him.

“My love,” Isabella greeted him softly, a faint smile touching her lips. “You came back.”

He crossed the room in swift strides, kneeling beside her. “Of course, I came back,” he said, gently placing his hand over hers, feeling the life stirring beneath her skin. “I won’t leave you again.”

Isabella looked into his eyes, a mixture of relief and love in her gaze. “I’m glad you’re here with me,” she said softly. “I can’t believe our family is whole again.”

They remained together in silence for a while, just enjoying each other’s company while watching the sunset through the window. After a long and much needed moment of contemplation, Alaric broke the silence.
"What's on your mind?" he asked, his voice gentle.

Isabella didn’t turn to face him, her fingers absentmindedly tracing circles on her belly. “I’ve been feeling like something is wrong,” she murmured.

Alaric’s brow furrowed. “What do you mean?”

She sighed, finally turning to meet his gaze, her eyes filled with uncertainty. “Ever since Pallor died, and you arrived, things have felt... different. My council, members of the court—they’ve been alienating me somehow. It’s subtle, but I can feel it.”

Alaric’s jaw clenched slightly, but he kept his expression calm, kneeling beside her. “Isabella…”

“This pregnancy,” she continued, her voice wavering slightly, “has been more challenging than the others. My body hurts, I’m constantly sick… And without Pallor here, I can barely stand for myself in this court.”
Alaric gently placed his hand over hers, squeezing it softly. “You don’t need him, Isabella. I’m here for you.”

She shook her head. “I know you’re here, but—” She stopped herself, her voice breaking slightly. “Something’s wrong. I feel it.”

Alaric looked at her for a moment, his expression softening as he stroked her cheek. “Everything is fine, my love. You shouldn’t be worrying about these things right now. You need to rest and take care of yourself... and the baby.”

She searched his eyes, uncertain. “But—”

“No,” he said softly, leaning in and pressing a kiss to her forehead. “Let me handle everything else. You focus on the baby. That’s all that matters.”

Isabella closed her eyes and nodded, though the nagging feeling in her chest refused to fade. "You can ask me," she said quietly.

Alaric frowned slightly. "Ask what?"

Her voice softened, but her words carried weight. "The question you’ve been dying to ask this whole time... how can I know that the child I’m carrying is yours, not Pallor’s."
Alaric let out a long sigh, his eyes darkening with the weight of the unspoken fear that had gnawed at him.

Isabella looked away, her voice barely above a whisper. “I already knew I was pregnant when we... Consummated the marriage. That's how I know..”

Alaric’s face hardened in an instant. His voice was low, simmering with frustration. "Then why, Isabella? After so long, why did you decide to sleep with him?"

She bit her lip, struggling for words, her own guilt evident in her eyes. “I felt... lonely. Lost. Guilty for giving myself to you while I was still married to him. I’ve committed many sins… I had your children out of wedlock, I gave myself to you and your brother at the same time… But breaking my vows and becoming pregnant with your child again while married to another man, a man who honored and respected me so much… Felt irredeemable.”

Alaric’s expression twisted in anger and hurt. "If I had never come here, bending my knee to you... would you have allowed another man to raise my child as his own?"

Isabella's shoulders slumped as she exhaled, the truth heavy on her chest. "That’s a decision I was avoiding to make, I must confess. But I don’t think I would have had it in my heart to lie like that."

Alaric’s jaw clenched, his hands forming fists at his sides. "And Pallor?" he asked tightly. "What did he know?"

She looked at him, her gaze sincere. "He convinced me not to return to you. He knew the truth... and he wanted me to stay for the sake of Allendor. The first thing I thought when I found out I was expecting your child again was to come back to you. Pallor convinced me not to."

Alaric’s fists tightened, his emotions warring beneath his cool exterior.

“I then decided that I was going to try to negotiate peace," she continued, her voice breaking slightly. "To allow Ikkar to return to you, and to tell you about the twins. But fate had other plans... As it always does, apparently."

Isabella looked at Alaric, her eyes searching his face. "I can sense your rage," she whispered. "Your disappointment. After everything... Are you sure you want this? Are you sure you want me as your bride?"

Alaric’s expression softened as he reached out, caressing her swollen belly with gentle hands. "All I want is for us to be a family again," he said quietly. "To have you by my side. We’ve both lived lives far from saints, Isabella. And yes, it enrages me to think that I am responsible for allowing you to share your bed with other men... but I promise you this—once you become my wife, I will be the last one to ever touch you while I live."

Isabella’s lips curved into a soft smile as her hand rested over his on her belly. "No matter what happened in the past, my body has always belonged to you," she said, her voice filled with a quiet, unwavering certainty. "Because you are the only man to ever possess my heart. Nothing makes me happier than knowing I am the only woman who has the honor of carrying your children, my king. I am yours. As you are mine."

Alaric’s gaze burned with a fierce tenderness as he lifted her hand and kissed it.