Chapter 13

I was in the middle of making breakfast when I heard a knock on the door. My heart raced as I wondered if it was Lark again, coming to constitute nuisance after his brute and hurtful words from the day before. Over the course of time, after my altercation with him, I had come to fear the sound of someone knocking the door. I stood in contemplation as I tried to gather myself when I head the soft knock again. This, this couldn’t be Lark.

I rushed to the door and I opened it. I found a maid in front of the door, dressed in blue.

“Good morning my Lady. My name is Cheyenne. I am here to deliver this to you.”

The young lady approached me with an envelope in her hand. Her eyes were wide, and her calm demeanor was tinged with nervousness.

"Lady Isabelle right?” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "You are Prince Rowan’s wife. I was asked to deliver this to you."

The envelope was thick and heavy, the paper of the finest quality. My name was written on it in an elegant, flowing script. But what caught my attention most was the seal—rich, red wax imprinted with the unmistakable crest of the royal family.

I took the letter from Cheyenne, my heart pounding. "Thank you, Cheyenne. You may go."

She bobbed a quick curtsy and hurried away, leaving me standing there, the letter like a weight in my hand. I turned it over, running my fingers over the seal. There was no doubt about it; it was the crest of a member of the royal family.

Summoning my courage, I broke the seal and unfolded the letter. The words were brief and formal, requesting my presence at the Dowager Queen's quarters at noon. It was signed simply, "Her Grace, the Dowager Queen."

I read the letter twice, trying to fathom why the Dowager Queen would want to see me. She said she had recently heard of my wedding to the Prince Rowan and would like to acquaint herself with me. Why she would want such a thing, I had no idea why. All I could think of was showing Prince Rowan the letter.

Prince Rowan was in his room, lying on his bed with his eyes staring at the tall ceiling. His eyes softened when he saw me, a smile breaking through his concentration.

"Ariadne," he said warmly, "what brings you here?"

"I received this." I handed him the letter, watching as his expression shifted from curiosity to surprise, then to something harder to read. He examined the seal closely.

"It’s genuine," he confirmed. "This is indeed my grandmother’s seal."

"But why would she want to see me?" I asked, bewildered. "I've never even met her."

Prince Rowan sighed, running a hand through his hair. "She’s cunning. She probably wants to find out more about me through you. My grandmother has a way of seeking out information indirectly."

I frowned. "Why would she need to find out about you? Can’t she just ask you herself?"

Prince Rowan's expression darkened. "We haven’t spoken in years, Ariadne.”

“But why? I once heard that she was one of the few family members who supported you. And that she practically raised you.”

Prince Rowan shrugged.

“After my accident, when my father’s concubine moved the motion that I should be deposed, I realized later on that my grandmother was one of the people to support the motion to depose me as crown prince."

I gasped. "Why would she do that?"

"She said it was for the good of the Crown," he replied bitterly. "She never explained what she meant by that. But I knew she didn’t believe in me or that I would ever recover. There was no use in pretending she cared about me, so she also found a perfectly good reason with that and stepped away. She stated focusing more on my brother. I’ve kept my distance since then."

The revelation stunned me. Rowan, with his strong sense of duty and unwavering loyalty, cast aside by his own grandmother. "I’m sorry," I whispered.

He shook his head. "Be careful around her, Ariadne. She's not to be underestimated. All of this she’s doing… it’s all castle politics. I am very sure she has some hidden agenda.”

“I just haven’t figured out what it is yet. Or what her stake in this fight would be. Would you like me to accompany you?"

I considered his offer, appreciating his concern. "No, Your highness.”

“Are you sure?!” He persisted.

“You know Lark might have heard about this visit. I don’t want him anywhere around you.”

“It's broad daylight, and it's in her quarters. Lark wouldn’t dare try anything there. I’ll be fine and I’ll come back here as soon as I can.”

Prince Rowan still looked worried, but he nodded. "Just promise me you’ll be careful."

"I promise," I said, squeezing his hand reassuringly.

I returned to the storeroom to prepare, feeling a mix of nerves and determination. I chose one of Lady Isabelle’s finest gowns, a deep emerald green that complemented my dark hair. The intricate lace and delicate embroidery made me feel somewhat like a princess myself.

I styled my hair in a way to hide my mark and made sure I didn’t forget to put my veil on, just to hide my face from anyone who might recognize me.

When I rejoined Rowan, his eyes widened, and a slow smile spread across his face. He quickly cleared his throat and looked away. "You look lovely," he said, admiration clear in his voice.

I felt a blush creep up my cheeks. "Thank you, your highness."

He wheeled himself to the door, following me despite my protests and me telling him to go and rest. He didn’t listen. Since his legs could move little by little, he could transport himself to the wheelchair just fine. And he was practicing moving his legs several times in a day. I was still stunned by his recovery and how fast it was.

"Remember, be cautious," he reminded me.

"I will," I assured him before stepping out into the corridor.

I showed the guards stationed in front of the quarters the letter with the royal seal. One of them then took it upon himself to accompany me to the Dowager Queen’s chambers
The walk to her chambers was long and tedious. It seemed like it was at the other end of the castle. But at least this part of the castle seemed to be bustling with life. More people, more guards and more activities.

When I finally reached the door to her chamber, I took a deep breath and knocked.

"Enter," came a voice from within, strong and regal.

I pushed the door open and stepped inside. Her quarters were grand, filled with rich tapestries and elegant furniture. Seated in the center of the room was the Dowager Queen, her presence commanding and undeniable.

She was an imposing figure, her hair a crown of silver, her eyes sharp and assessing. She wore a gown of deep purple, a color of power and authority. As I curtsied, she motioned for me to rise.

"Isabelle,” she said, her voice smooth and controlled. "Thank you for coming."

"It is an honor, Your Grace," I replied, trying to keep my voice steady.

She studied me for a moment, her gaze penetrating. "Remove your veil, let me set my eyes on you. It’s been ages since I saw anyone from the Carstairs family.”

I slowly removed my veil. And I saw the woman’s hawklike eyes search and roam all over my face and body.

She then smiled at me.

“You’re the spitting image of your father!” She exclaimed and I managed a smile.

That was wrong. I could never look like that man. That horrible Jude Carstairs.

But I said thank you to her all the same. So I wouldn’t be rude.

“You must be wondering why I’ve summoned you."

"Yes, Your Grace," I admitted.

She smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes. "I have heard much about you, Isabelle. And I heard of your sudden marriage to my grandson. I’m sure it mustn’t have been easy, leaving your family and coming all the way here to be married to the Prince.”

“Tell me. What do you think of the Prince?”

I remained silent, unsure of how to respond.

"And also," she continued, "how is he doing these days?! I can barely get a good report from the servants I send all the way over there?"

"Your Grace, he is not a happy man," I said honestly. "When I was told that I would be his wife I never imagined a life quite so sad. Or hard. Prince Rowan has been through so much suffering.

"Suffering.” she mused. "And what about you? How are you finding the castle? Isn’t to your liking? Do you sometimes miss home?”

Her words were annoying. And confusing.

“Your Grace I am not allowed to step outside the Prince’s quarters. So unfortunately, I wouldn’t know how the castle is. Or if it’s to my liking.”

The Dowager Queen’s eyes flickered with something I couldn’t quite decipher and I wondered if I had said too much. “Do you think he will ever recover? From your personal experience and the time you have spent with him. Do you think the Prince will walk again?"

The question took me by surprise, but I held her gaze. "No. I don’t think the Prince will walk again. In fact, I believe his situation will get even worse.”