Chapter 167
Chapter 167
“Are you kidding me?” Henriette gaped. “You followed me?”
“Of course I followed you,” Thess said, straightening her coat and taking in the scene with a grimace. “But—what is going on? Why is the tub being used as a water trough for horses?”
Henriette threw up her hands. “Excellent question. Ask the Queen—oh wait, she probably repurposed my portal while redecorating!”
But Thess wasn’t listening anymore. Her gaze had locked onto one of the horses—a tall, grey stallion with a white blaze down its nose. Her breath hitched.
“Moonfire?” she whispered, stepping forward with slow reverence.
The stallion’s ears twitched, then perked as Thess reached out a cautious hand. He nickered softly and leaned into her touch, his muzzle pressing against her palm as if no time had passed at all.
“It is you,” Thess murmured, stroking his neck. “You remember me.”
Henriette watched, quiet now, as Thess laid her cheek against the horse’s mane for just a second before squaring her shoulders and turning toward the barn’s exit.
“Come on,” Thess said, her voice firm but tight. “We need to find out what’s happened.”
Henriette hesitated, water still dripping from her sleeves, but followed. The two of them walked side by side out of the barn and into the open courtyard, where warm sun filtered through high stone arches.
Everything looked... shinier. Fresher. Brighter. The castle grounds, though familiar, had been transformed—new banners in shimmering gold and emerald fluttered from the towers, the flower beds had been re-planted in intricate patterns, and the air buzzed with energy. Yet something in the silence felt off. Too watchful.
Servants in pressed livery paused mid-task as the women passed, their eyes widening. Some gasped. A few whispered. But others—particularly the guards—stood straighter and bowed, eyes flickering to Thess with uncertain recognition.
“Lady Thess,” one guard said, nodding respectfully as they passed.
Thess didn’t slow down. She just gave a tight nod and kept walking, jaw clenched.
Henriette frowned. “Did he just call you Lady Thess?”
“I don’t know what’s going on yet,” Thess muttered. “But I have a very bad feeling.”
They entered the castle through the great hall, where more servants scurried away at the sight of them like leaves blown by wind. No one stopped them.
Henriette’s gaze swept across the room until it landed on the dais—two thrones now stood side by side, freshly gilded and surrounded by floral arrangements.
She stared, blinking.
“Did King Arin and Queen Henriette only get married now?” she asked out loud, more to herself than anyone else.
Thess stopped in her tracks.
Silence echoed in the space around them.
Henriette’s chest tightened. Something was wrong—deeply wrong. The timing didn’t make sense. The decor didn’t make sense. The strange looks, the formality, the fact that no one had tried to stop them from barging into the throne room?
It all felt… off.
And then, from behind the pillars, a voice spoke:
“How did you get here?" Queen Henriette scolded dressed in a beautiful wedding dress.
Henriette turned toward the sound, heart lurching.
Queen Henriette stepped into view, radiant in a gold and emerald gown, her face calm and composed—but her eyes?
Her eyes were sharp as blades.
Queen Henriette stepped down from the dais with regal precision, her heels clicking softly on the marble floor. She moved like someone who knew all eyes belonged on her—shoulders back, chin lifted, every inch the crowned monarch. The golden embroidery on her bodice shimmered in the candlelight like sunlight on water.
Thess gasped, then squealed, her face lighting up with pure joy. “Hello to you too!” she exclaimed, stepping forward as though to wrap the Queen in a familiar hug.
But Queen Henriette pulled back quickly, one hand raised like a gentle stop.
“The dress,” she said flatly, brushing an invisible speck off the ornate silk, her expression unreadable. “It’s been tailored within an inch of its life. I’d rather not ruin it.”
Thess blinked, her arms awkwardly frozen mid-air before she dropped them with an uneasy laugh. “Right... of course.” She glanced at Henriette and then back at the Queen. “You didn’t even invite me to your wedding,” she said, her voice sharpening. “What is going on? Why all the secrecy?”
Queen Henriette’s eyes flicked to her briefly, then past her—to Henriette, who stood a few steps behind, water-streaked and barefoot, her swollen belly unmistakable beneath her clinging shirt.
“I couldn’t risk losing Arin,” the Queen said, the words cold and clipped, “to her.” She didn’t even try to mask the accusation in her tone as she gestured to Henriette, who stiffened under the weight of it.
Henriette narrowed her eyes. “You used me,” she said, voice quiet but laced with steel. “You lured me back into my world, then sealed the portal. You never planned to let me return.”
“Of course I didn’t,” Queen Henriette snapped. “Do you think I was going to let you come back and parade around with that face and that smile and ruin everything I worked for? You had no place here. You never did.”
Thess gasped. “You tricked her? You banished her? Henriette saved your kingdom—”
But the Queen wasn’t listening. Her gaze had dropped lower, fixated now on the curve of Henriette’s belly.
Her lips parted slightly. Her eyes darkened.
“Please,” she said, voice low and trembling with barely contained panic, “please tell me that is not King Robert’s baby.”
Henriette blinked, caught off-guard by the sharpness of the question. “What?”
“The father,” Queen Henriette hissed, taking a step forward, eyes flashing. “Tell me it isn’t Robert. Tell me you weren’t that careless.”
“What does it matter to you,” Henriette shot back, lifting her chin. "Won't it be the perfect situation for you?"
Henriette said nothing for a long beat. Her fingers curled protectively around her belly. She wasn’t going to say his name. Not yet. Not when she didn’t understand what this new version of the kingdom had become.
But Queen Henriette already knew. It was written across her face—panic, fury, fear, all blooming at once.