After My Daughter Was Murdered, I Took a Blade to the Capital

When Nestor, the late king's adviser, arrived, I was still sitting there with my daughter's body in my arms, numb with grief.

The last time I had seen Callista, she was only ten.

I had spent the past ten years in the temple, keeping Ostan safe.

More than once, her maid had written to tell me that Callista still cried for me in her sleep, holding my old dresses and jewelry close.

"Please come back, Mother. I promise I won't make trouble anymore. Please, Mother. Don't leave me."

Every time I heard those words, my heart ached. But I still couldn't leave.

As long as I remained in the temple, Ostan would have the gods' protection. No wars. No plagues.

I kept telling myself I just had to wait until the kingdom was stable. Then I could go home and see my daughter again.

But when we finally met again, my darling girl was dead, her emaciated body covered in terrible wounds.

"This is insane! Callista had divine power, but Theron sent her to the beastmen. When she came home, he let the Duke's daughter torment her, then had her thrown into a water dungeon?

"And all because she was accused of plotting against Naia? What a joke! My Callista had no reason to do such a thing. And even if she did, they must have pushed her too far!

"I spent ten years praying for the gods to protect this kingdom. For what? A kingdom like this deserves to fall!"

I gently touched Callista's swollen skin.

"Why didn't you call a physician for her?" I asked.

Nestor answered nervously, "Every physician in the capital was called away to treat Lady Naia. She was feeling dizzy."

Callista's maid had fallen to her knees outside the palace and begged until her forehead bled. Still, no one would give Callista the medical care she needed.

"The king said the princess was faking it. He said her wounds were only superficial and nowhere near as serious as Lady Naia's dizziness. He also said anyone who hurt another person didn't deserve medical treatment."

"How could he be so heartless?" I murmured. Callista had been this badly hurt, and he wouldn't even let a doctor see her.

I had always believed I had done my duty as the Oracle Priestess.

The late king had once been an unfavored prince. After he married me, he took the throne without trouble.

The kingdom had been falling apart, but I helped bring it back from the brink. The borders became safe again, and the people were able to rebuild their lives.

I had done everything I could for this kingdom. And this was how they repaid me. They killed my daughter.

I carried Callista out of the temple.

A minister ran after me in a panic. "Where are you going, Queen Mother? Without your protection, the kingdom will fall into ruin!"

I didn't answer. I just kept walking. Nestor hurried after me and grabbed my sleeve.

"You are the Oracle Priestess. I know you've lost your daughter, but you have to accept that this was her fate. You can't abandon the kingdom for someone who's already dead. Countless innocent people will die."

"My daughter is dead. I don't care about right or wrong anymore."

He had told me something similar ten years ago. I had listened then. And what had happened? My daughter was sent to the beastmen and humiliated, while my son drove his sister to her death.

I drew the dagger the late king had given me and cut the Oracle Priestess's sash from my robes.

"You say this was my daughter's fate? Fine. Then this is yours. I'm leaving the temple, and the gods' protection leaves with me. Whatever happens to Ostan—and to all of you—is your fate!"