Chapter CXLIII: The prince with auburn hair
A year into their marriage, Isabella and Alaric ruled with strength and grace, and the joy of their love permeated the walls of their palace. Court life blossomed under their reign, and their story had grown into a living legend told across their kingdoms, echoing tales of bravery, devotion, and sacrifice. Their four children filled the court with laughter, bringing life and light to their days, and Isabella delighted in watching them grow, each carrying fragments of herself and Alaric.
Ikkar, their eldest, was already being tutored in the ways of swordsmanship, though his attention often strayed more toward play. His chubby cheeks and mischief-filled eyes brought cheer to everyone around him, and he’d wave his small wooden sword with all the seriousness his little heart could muster. His sister Rya shared the same dark curls and bold spirit, mirroring Alaric's intensity even in her young age, while Zayr followed close behind, curious and bright-eyed, his curls bouncing as he toddled after his twin sister.
But Kai, the youngest, had hair a shade lighter—strikingly auburn, almost identical to Isabella's. The resemblance raised eyebrows among the court, sparking murmurs that grew as Kai’s features became more pronounced. Whispers hinted at doubt, even suspicion, circulating among the nobles. The tale of his conception in the midst of war still held court, but questions lingered, quietly persistent.
Two ladies stood on the balcony, the warm afternoon sun casting a soft glow over the courtyard below, where the dragon princes played. Ikkar swung his wooden sword, pretending to be a fierce monster attacking Zayr and Kai, both of whom shrieked and ran from him, their laughter ringing through the air. Rya, who’d been corralled by her maids to sit still and learn to do flower crowns, abandoned the lesson and dashed back to her brothers, trying to grab one of the toy swords for herself. The ladies watched the scene, amused but intent, voices lowered as they spoke.
“Do you think it’s true?” one of the ladies asked, leaning slightly toward her companion.
“What?” the other lady replied, casting her a curious glance.
“That the youngest prince is... Well, not the dragon’s blood,” she whispered.
Her friend smiled, a glint of mischief in her eyes. “Technically, he wouldn’t be a bastard, would he? He would have been born under the queen’s late husband’s name.” She gave a soft laugh. “Though… he’d be a bastard all the same, wouldn’t he? Either the queen was less than faithful to her first husband, or—gods forbid—she’s lying to the Dragon King.”
The second lady raised an eyebrow, nodding slowly. “Well, I used to wonder about the twins. At first, it seemed a bit suspect, they were born after she left… But they do have that unmistakable look. Dark hair, sharp eyes… No denying they carry the dragon king’s blood. But the little one…” She let her voice trail off meaningfully, her eyes drifting back to Kai.
Her friend’s lips twisted in a knowing smirk. “If it’s true, I imagine the Dragon King would have known. He beheaded his former concubine when he found out she was pregnant with another man’s child…” she whispered, a gleam in her eye.
The other lady nodded, glancing around as if the walls had ears. “Perhaps he chooses not to see it. His love for the queen is… Undeniable. Look at all he’s done just to marry her.”
“Well, it’s been a year since their wedding, and the queen hasn’t conceived again. For a woman who bore a child from a single sinful encounter in the midst of war…” She laughed under her breath. “It seems perhaps our queen may be struggling to conceive now.”
The second woman gave a small, conspiratorial sigh. “Perhaps the gods have withheld their favor. She did enter into that marriage with that Allendorian lord while still bound to the dragon king’s harem, and she either lied to him… Or she did conceive the boy out of wedlock. Either way, a sin was committed.”
Isabella was aware of the rumors and the curious glances, though she bore them with poise. Alaric, as ever, showered their children with love, tending to them with care that no one could question, yet she sensed a flicker of uncertainty sometimes in his gaze. She understood; after all, though he trusted her with his life, this small shadow could weigh heavily in the minds of even the strongest hearts. These murmurs never reached the children, but Isabella could sense the quiet gossip echoing in the chambers and hallways, and feel the subtle glances cast at Kai. She knew the truth, and Alaric believed her without question; yet, she couldn’t help but notice the way some eyes lingered on her youngest, silently comparing him to his father.
As Isabella made her way through the palace halls, the soft echo of laughter reached her ears, and she soon spotted Ikkar and Rya sprinting down the corridor, their footsteps thundering as they dashed away from the maids in playful rebellion. Rya’s delighted squeal grew louder as she barreled right into Isabella’s legs, falling back onto the floor in a burst of laughter. She scrambled to her feet, grabbing at Isabella’s gown as she tried to stand.
Trailing behind, the three nursemaids finally caught up, each looking utterly worn. Two of them were holding Zayr and Kai, who wriggled in their arms, still fueled by their sibling’s infectious energy. The maids caught their breath and bowed, one of them stammering, “Apologies, my queen, we were… Attempting to get them ready for dinner.”
Isabella smiled, scooping up Rya, who giggled and hid her face against Isabella’s shoulder, her tiny hands wrapped around her mother’s neck. Isabella couldn’t help but notice Rya was streaked with dirt, her curls wild and tangled. She let out a laugh, brushing a stray lock from her daughter’s face.
“Well,” Isabella said with a chuckle, “it appears my little girl’s hair has become a bird’s nest.” She turned to the maid, who flushed, wringing her hands.
“We tried to keep her from joining the boys, Your Grace, but she kept running and…” The maid gestured helplessly toward Rya’s delighted grin.
“Oh, it’s fine,” Isabella reassured her, smiling warmly. “But make sure all my little birds are cleaned up before dinner, alright?”
Just then, Ikkar looked up at her, his eyes gleaming with pride. “Mama, today I am the Monster King,” he announced with his best growl, flapping his arms dramatically. “And I can fly!”
Isabella laughed, bending down to his level, pressing a gentle kiss to his cheek. “All right, Monster King, but mama needs you to turn into a sweet little prince for dinner—very clean and very princely.” She ruffled his hair with a loving smile.
As the maids gathered the children to guide them toward their baths, Isabella watched them go, her heart brimming with joy at their boundless energy. It was moments like these, amidst the laughter and chaos, that filled her with happiness—her children, so full of life and laughter, were her greatest treasures.
Log in with Google Account
Chapters
Favorite
Settings
