Chapter 31 Roads of Blood
We left at dawn with fifty Blood Guards.
Not enough if things went wrong. Too many if we wanted to appear peaceful. A calculated risk either way.
Kael rode beside me in the carriage. Silent. Tense. His hand never far from his sword.
"You are thinking too loud," I said.
"I am thinking that this is a mistake. That we should have sent diplomats instead of going ourselves."
"Diplomats cannot do what we can. They cannot show the rebels that we are real. That we care." I touched my stomach. Still flat but I felt the child constantly now. Its presence. Its awareness. "Besides. Running would show weakness."
"Surviving shows strength."
"Only if we live through it."
He did not find that amusing. "Your powers are still fluctuating. The child is draining you. If we are attacked—"
"Then you protect me. Like you always do." I took his hand. "We will be fine."
"You do not know that."
"No. But I have to believe it or I will go mad."
The carriage hit a bump. Pain flared through my abdomen. Sharp. Quick. Gone.
The child stirring. Restless.
"It knows something is wrong," I said quietly. "It can feel the danger."
"That is not normal."
"Nothing about this is normal." I closed my eyes. Tried to rest. "Wake me when we reach the border."
I slept fitfully. Dreamed of blood and fire. Of a child with red eyes and shadow wings. Of futures that might be and futures that must not.
Woke to shouting.
"Ambush!" A guard screamed.
The carriage lurched. Stopped hard. I heard steel clashing. Screams. The smell of blood.
Kael threw open the door. "Stay inside. Do not leave the carriage."
"Kael—"
He was already gone. Fighting. I saw him through the window cutting through attackers. Not rebels. These were professionals. Assassins.
Again.
How many people wanted us dead?
An arrow punched through the carriage wall. Missed my head by inches.
Another. Another. They were targeting the carriage specifically. Targeting me.
I threw shadows. Weak. Flickering. The pregnancy had drained too much. I barely deflected the arrows.
More came. Too many. I could not stop them all.
One hit my shoulder. Pain exploded. I screamed.
The child responded.
Magic erupted from my body. Not mine. The baby's. Shadows darker than anything I could create. They tore through the carriage. Through the attackers. Through everything.
When the magic faded, silence.
I looked out. Bodies everywhere. Assassins. Some of our guards. All dead.
The child's magic had not discriminated. Had not cared about allies versus enemies. Just eliminated all threats.
Kael appeared. Covered in blood. Eyes wide. "What happened?"
"The child. It defended us." I pulled the arrow from my shoulder. Watched the wound heal. "It killed everyone."
"Everyone?" He looked at the carnage. "Gods. How powerful is this baby?"
"Too powerful. And it is not even born yet." I climbed out of the ruined carriage. "We need to keep moving. More might come."
"You need rest. You are bleeding. The child—"
"The child is fine. I am fine. We keep moving."
We took horses. Rode hard for the nearest province border. Reached it as the sun set.
A village waited. Small. Poor. People who eked out survival in the shadow of the capital.
They saw us coming and panicked. Started running.
"Wait!" I shouted. "We are not here to hurt you!"
They did not believe me. Why would they? We were vampires. Rulers. Monsters.
An old woman stood her ground. Grey hair. Bent back. Eyes that had seen too much.
"You are the queen," she said. Not a question. "The one carrying the cursed child."
"It is not cursed."
"It killed twenty men without being born. Sounds cursed to me." She spat on the ground. "What do you want from us?"
"To talk. To understand why the provinces are rebelling."
"You want to understand?" She laughed. Bitter. "You sit in your palace. You change laws. You give half-bloods rights. You do all this without asking us. Without caring how it affects us."
"The changes help people. Give them freedom."
"Freedom does not feed children. Does not protect villages when half-blood rebels raid them looking for revenge. Does not replace crops when new taxes take everything." She stepped closer. "You think you are saving us. You are destroying us."
The words hit harder than they should. Because she was right. We had focused on big changes. Big reforms. Forgotten the small people caught in the middle.
"Tell me what you need," I said. "What would make this better."
"An end to the chaos. Stability. Safety." She looked at my stomach. "And proof that your child will not be another tyrant with too much power."
"I cannot prove that. The child is not born yet."
"Then you ask for faith. But you give us nothing to have faith in."
Kael dismounted. Walked to the old woman. She did not flinch even though he towered over her.
"What is your name?" he asked.
"Marta."
"Marta. You are right. We have been focused on large changes and forgotten the cost to small villages." His voice was not cold. Not the king voice. Just honest. "We cannot undo what we have done. But we can adjust. Provide support. Protection. Resources."
"Words. Just words."
"Then what would convince you? What action proves we care?"
She studied him. Then me. "Stay here. Tonight. In the village. Not in the mayor's house. In a normal home. See how we live. Understand what your changes cost us."
Kael looked at me. I nodded.
"Agreed," he said. "We stay."
Marta led us to a small house. One room. Dirt floor. A family of six lived here. Parents and four children.
They looked terrified when we entered.
"Your Majesties," the father stammered. "We do not have much. But what we have is yours."
"We do not want to take anything. We want to understand." I sat on the floor. Kael beside me. "Tell us about your life. Your struggles."
They did. For hours. Talked about taxes. About half-blood raids. About nobles taking resources. About children going hungry. About fear and uncertainty and chaos.
I listened. Really listened. And felt shame burning in my chest.
We had been so focused on big picture changes that we ignored the immediate suffering.
"We will fix this," I said when they finished. "I cannot promise overnight. But we will make it better."
"Why should we believe you?" the mother asked. "Queens do not care about people like us."
"This one does." I touched my stomach. "Because I was you once. A servant. Invisible. Powerless. I know what it is like to be forgotten."
Something shifted in her expression. "You were a servant?"
"For twelve years. In the palace. Scrubbing floors and emptying chamber pots." I looked around the small room. "I lived in a place smaller than this. Ate scraps. Had nothing. So when I say I understand, I mean it."
The father's eyes widened. "The rumors are true then. You bonded with the king who murdered your family."
"Yes."
"And you forgave him?"
I looked at Kael. "I understood him. That is not the same as forgiveness. But it is enough."
We stayed the night. Slept on the dirt floor. Shared their meager food. Lived their reality for twelve hours.
At dawn, we left coin. Not as payment. As help.
"This is not enough," Marta said. "Coin is temporary. We need lasting change."
"You will have it. I swear it." I mounted my horse. "We are going to the provincial capital. To meet with the rebel leaders. Whatever they need to end this rebellion, we will provide."
"And if they want you dead?"
"Then I die trying to fix what I broke."
We rode to the capital. A city called Graymore. Grey stone. Grey sky. Grey everything.
The rebel leaders waited in a hall. Twenty of them. Nobles. Merchants. Farmers. A coalition of people who wanted us gone.
At their head sat a man I recognized. Older. Distinguished. With cold eyes that held calculations.
Lord Viktor Ashcroft. Lucian's brother.
"Your Majesties." He did not bow. "How kind of you to come to your execution."
Guards surrounded us. Weapons drawn. We were outnumbered fifty to two.
Kael's hand went to his sword. "We came to negotiate. Not fight."
"There is nothing to negotiate. You are unfit to rule. Your child is an abomination. Your reign ends today." Viktor smiled. "We have allies. Powerful ones. They promised us support if we remove you."
"What allies?" I asked.
The doors opened. King Aldric walked in. Smiling. Confident.
"Hello again, Sera. Miss me?"
My blood froze. Aldric had allied with the rebels. With the Purists. With everyone who wanted us dead.
"You," Kael breathed. "You orchestrated this. The rebellion. The assassination attempts. All of it."
"Not all. But enough." Aldric walked closer. "I told you, Sera. When you tire of him. When you see what he truly is.
I will be waiting."