Thread of duty

Liam’s stark warning echoed in my mind, a chilling counterpoint to the insistent whispers of the Blood Moon and the shadowy figure from my dreams. He had looked genuinely scared, and his fear only amplified my own growing terror. But the more he cautioned me to stay away, the more a desperate need to understand took root. What were these dark legends? What did they have to do with the strange changes happening to me?

My royal duties offered a thin veil of normalcy, a temporary distraction from the unsettling mystery that clung to me. As the heiress to the throne, I had responsibilities, even amidst my turmoil. A meeting with the kingdom’s elders had been scheduled, a gathering that under normal circumstances I would have approached with eager anticipation. I cared deeply for Equedore, its people, and its future. The thought of one-day ruling, of ensuring their prosperity and peace, was a weight I carried with both pride and solemnity.

But this meeting felt different. A shadow of the market incident hung over everything. Word of the Crown Princess being caught stealing – even something as trivial as spoons – had spread like wildfire across the kingdom. Whispers followed me in the palace corridors, curious and sometimes accusatory glances from servants and courtiers alike. The elders, wise and influential figures who held the stability of Equedore in their hands, were now gathering to discuss my fitness to succeed to the throne.

As I entered the grand council chamber, the air was thick with unspoken tension. The elders, their faces etched with years of experience and unwavering loyalty to the crown, sat around the long, polished table. Their eyes, usually filled with respect, held cautious scrutiny as I took my place beside Papa.

Elder Elara, her voice usually warm and comforting, was the first to speak. “Your Majesty,” she began, her gaze flickering towards me before returning to Papa, “the recent… incident involving Princess Isla has caused some concern amongst the council.”

A murmur rippled through the room. I kept my head held high, trying to project an air of calm I didn’t feel. My heart hammered against my ribs, a frantic drumbeat against the heavy silence.

“We have always held the Princess in high regard,” Elder Gerone added, his voice grave. “Her intelligence and her dedication to Equedore have been evident. However, this… deviation from expected behavior raises questions about her judgment.”

Papa’s hand rested reassuringly on mine. His gaze swept across the faces of the elders, his expression firm and unwavering. “My lords and ladies,” he said, his voice resonating with the authority of a just and trusted ruler, “I understand your concerns. The incident at the market was… unusual. But I know my daughter. I trust her character, her integrity, and her deep love for this kingdom. A moment of… inexplicable behavior does not define the woman she is, nor the queen she will become.”

His words, spoken with such conviction, seemed to quell some of the immediate unease in the room. But I could still sense the lingering doubt in their eyes, the unspoken questions about my stability, my suitability to rule. The weight of their scrutiny pressed down on me, a heavy burden added to the growing fear within.

Later that day, Papa called me to his study. His usual warm smile was tinged with a sadness I hadn’t seen before.

“Isla,” he began, his voice gentle, “I know this has been difficult for you. The whispers, the looks… it’s unfair.”

“Papa,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper, “I don’t understand what’s happening to me.” The urge to confess everything, the dreams, the ringing, the terrifying shadow, was almost unbearable. But Liam’s warning held me back, a knot of fear tightening in my throat.

Papa sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I want to help you, Isla. I want to make things right. The kingdom… they need to see you as their strong, capable future queen. We need to remind them of the Isla they know and trust.”

He paused, his gaze meeting mine. “I have been considering… a betrothal.”

My breath caught in my throat. “A betrothal?”

“Yes,” Papa said, his voice firm but kind. “To Prince Caius of Eldoria. He is a fine young man, respected throughout the neighboring kingdoms. A union between our houses would not only strengthen our alliances but also… it would present you in a positive light, Isla. It would reassure our people.”

My mind reeled. A betrothal? To a prince, I had never met? The thought felt suffocating, a gilded cage closing around me. My heart ached for the freedom to understand what was happening to me, to seek the answers hidden in the shadows of ancient books, not to be paraded as a symbol of stability.

“Papa,” I began, my voice trembling slightly, “I… I don’t know if now is the right time…”

“Isla,” he interrupted gently, taking my hand, “this is for the good of Equedore. For your good. It will show everyone that you are strong, that you are ready to embrace your future.” His eyes held a plea, a deep desire to protect me and the kingdom.

I looked at his earnest face, the lines of worry etched around his eyes. I knew his heart was in the right place. He believed this was the best way to quell the doubts, to paint a picture of a stable future for Equedore. My love for my kingdom, the deep-seated responsibility I felt towards its people, warred with my growing fear and the desperate need to understand the darkness that seemed to be taking root within me.

“I… I understand, Papa,” I said finally, the words feeling heavy and hollow.

The betrothal announcement sent ripples of excitement and relief through the kingdom. Preparations for the ceremony began immediately, a whirlwind of dress fittings, diplomatic meetings, and celebratory planning. I went through the motions, a hollow smile plastered on my face, while my mind remained consumed by the image of the ancient book and Liam’s ominous warning.

The dreams continued, the library vast and silent, the inscription on the dark book glowing with an eerie light, the shadowy figure always lurking just beyond my grasp. The metallic scent seemed to cling to me constantly now, a subtle reminder of the iron’s strange power. And the ringing… it was always there, a dormant echo waiting for the next glimpse of cold, grey metal.

My resolve to find answers about the book, about the Blood Moon and the shadows, only intensified. Despite Liam’s warning, despite the weight of my royal duties and the impending betrothal, I knew I couldn’t ignore the darkness that was stirring within me. The fate of Equedore, and perhaps my soul, might depend on understanding it.

I sought out Liam again, finding him in the dimly lit training grounds after nightfall. The rhythmic clang of steel on steel echoed in the cool night air.

“Liam,” I said, my voice low but firm.

He stopped his sparring, the sweat glistening on his brow in the torchlight. “Your Highness.”

“The book,” I said, my gaze fixed on his. “The one with the inscription about the Blood Moon. Do you know where I can find it?”

Liam’s face hardened. He sheathed his sword, his movements deliberate and slow. “Princess, I warned you. Some knowledge is best left untouched.”

“But it’s important, Liam. I… I think it has something to do with what’s happening to me.” My voice trembled slightly, betraying my fear and desperation.

He stepped closer, his eyes searching mine with an intensity that made me uneasy. “What is happening to you, Your Highness?” His voice was a low whisper, filled with a concern that felt genuine despite his stern demeanor.

I hesitated, the words caught in my throat. How could I explain the ringing, the urges, the fleeting shadows? “I… I don’t understand it myself. But I think that book… it might hold the answers.”

Liam shook his head slowly, his expression troubled. “Princess, you are treading a dangerous path. That book… is said to contain knowledge of dark rituals, of ancient evils that can corrupt even the purest of hearts. Stay away from it. For your own sake, for the sake of Equedore, let those shadows remain undisturbed.” His voice was a plea, a desperate warning. “Even the desire to seek such knowledge can be a dangerous invitation.”