Chapter CXL: Aftermath
The throne room was still scarred from the fiery wrath that had unfolded. The walls were blackened, the windows shattered, and the once-proud banners hung in scorched remnants. The court gathered in silence, murmuring in anxious confusion over what had occurred. Whispers filled the air: all they knew was that the Queen was unharmed and would soon address them.
When Isabella entered, every eye turned to her. Dressed in a striking red gown that shimmered like embers, she moved with quiet authority. Despite the fatigue etched subtly in her face, she held her head high, exuding an aura of strength and resolve. She was flanked by three towering Therian guards, who followed her with silent vigilance as she climbed the steps to her throne.
As she seated herself, she raised a hand, and the room fell into a hush.
"Last night," Isabella began, her voice cutting through the tense silence, "Lord Hargrave, Lord Caswell, and Lord Ridley attempted to arrest and dethrone me in my own childbed, after eleven hours of labor." Gasps rippled through the crowd, the shock palpable.
"These lords," Isabella continued, "have been conspiring against me for months. They took advantage of my illness, of my vulnerability, plotting their betrayal while I was pregnant." Her eyes flicked over the crowd. "But as you see, it did not end well for them—or for the rats who decided to join them."
Isabella paused, letting her gaze settle on the tense, fearful faces of her court. "I am tired," she confessed, her voice softening but losing none of its power. "All I want is to return to my chambers, to hold my baby, who is fine despite everything, and to rest. But my duty as a mother is to keep my children safe... And a threat to me is a threat to my heirs, isn’t it?"
The court held its breath, listening with rapt attention.
"I reclaimed Rosehall," she said firmly. "I tamed the dragon that secured our victory against the Dragon King's forces. I gathered seven thousand Therian soldiers, all to protect Allendor’s sovereignty. And yet, here I am, still surrounded by traitors who cannot understand that the one rightful ruler by blood, legacy, and might—" her gaze turned sharp as steel, "is me. And I am the one thing that stands between you and ruin."
With her words, Therian soldiers began to move through the crowd, surrounding and seizing several individuals. Cries and pleads for mercy filled the hall as they struggled, knowing they had been implicated in the conspiracy. Isabella watched impassively as her guards brought order back to the room, the clash of armor and muffled cries echoing off the burned walls.
When the hall fell silent once more, she addressed them calmly. "Anyone with ties to Hargrave, Caswell, and Ridley will be imprisoned and questioned. Any who conspired with them—or even considered it—will be tried and executed."
The court descended into fearful murmurs again, until her guards struck the ground with their spears, calling for attention. Isabella’s gaze swept over the court, her voice unwavering. "I do not need your love or admiration," she declared. "I am flawed, just like my father, my grandfather and every ancestor of mine who ever carried the burden of the Allendorian crown. But I have granted you mercy and protection time and again." Her gaze sharpened. "This temperamental teenage girl, as some would say, is the only reason the Dragon King hasn’t burned this kingdom to the ground. And it will be my union with him that shall bring Allendor a new dawn of glory. The war is over. I have won. The Dragon King has recognized my victory… It is past time for all of you to do the same."
She leaned forward, eyes piercing. "So if anyone has a grievance against my marriage to the Dragon King, come forth and speak."
The hall fell into a deadly silence, her challenge hanging in the air like a sharpened blade.
Then, from somewhere in the back of the crowd, a voice shouted, "Long live the Dragon Queen!"
***
Isabella spent the six months after her son's birth in careful recovery, using this time to strengthen her rule and rid her court of any remaining threats. She ensured that Rosehall was left in trustworthy hands, appointing Lord Wendell as its governor. With his recent engagement to Clara—the daughter of the late king consort and now the Duchess of Pallor—Isabella felt confident in her decision. Clara, carrying her father’s legacy of loyalty and honor, was a dependable ally Isabella knew she could rely on.
One quiet morning, Isabella went alone to the royal crypt, where Pallor had been laid to rest with the honors due a noble warrior. His grave lay among the kings of Allendor, which is unlikely for a consort, but she decided he deserved to be there not only for marrying her, but for leading their people all those years she spent in the Dragon King’s harem. She sat down beside his tomb, feeling a strange calm settle over her.
“I’m leaving,” she whispered, tracing her fingers over his name. “You told me not to go back to him, and I know why you said it. But it’s different now. I’m not a prisoner anymore—I won.” She paused, glancing around the quiet crypt. “Allendor will be rebuilt, just as we dreamed. Everything you fought for, it's happening."
She closed her eyes, picturing his warm, encouraging smile. “My son was born. His name is Kai. And before you say anything… I know I was a terrible wife to you.” She let out a soft laugh, tinged with regret. “You should never have agreed to marry me. It was madness on your part. But thank you for that honor anyway. You were the only man who never judged me, who never hurt me…”
Isabella took a deep breath. “I promised I’d take care of Clara, but truly she’s the one who’s been taking care of me and Rosehall. She’s so much like you—brave, kind, loyal. You’d be so proud of her.”
Her fingers trembled as she rested them on the cold stone. “You were a soldier, and I know that for you, the battlefield was the best deathbed you could ask for… But it was too soon. You deserved more. A better life… A better wife. You once told me you had known love, and that after she was gone, you lived solely for your promises. But you still deserved more, Pallor. You deserved the kind of love I could never give you.”
A tear slipped down her cheek. “Thank you for everything—for being my protector, my supporter, my friend, and my lover… Even if only for a moment. Allendor stands because of you. Because you saw a queen in a broken, reckless girl. I will be forever grateful."
Isabella brushed her fingers across her cheek to wipe away the tear, then rose slowly to her feet, casting one last look at his resting place. She whispered a final farewell and turned, leaving the crypt with her heart heavy, yet strangely at peace.
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