Chapter 4: The Return Home

Emelia was lost in her thoughts as they rode through town. The townspeople stood outside their homes as the sun had already descended below the horizon, painting the sky in deep reds and oranges. The somber moods were already set—no doubt from the soldier who delivered the news of Lily’s death in combat. Cries of mourning could be heard as women held tissues tight to their mouths and cradled little ones close to their bosoms. Mourners said what few words they could muster as the horse-drawn cart carrying Lily’s body slowly made its way down the cobblestone path.

With a jolt, the horse stopped at the entrance of Cornea Castle. Emelia glanced at the colossal gate looming before her, its mighty portcullis raised from within. The gears snarled as they creaked and scraped until they settled with vibration into place. Emelia immediately noticed the vigilant soldiers, each wearing shining breastplates and gleaming helmets, standing guard at each corner of the courtyard. The steady beat of the horse’s hooves echoed through the castle grounds and startled a flock of birds roosting on the battlements into flight across the sky.

A tall man strode confidently toward them, bowed his head, and gracefully knelt before them. His voice was reverent as he declared, “My King.”

“Rise, Nathan,” Edward said, dismounting from his horse. He turned and swung Emelia off the saddle, holding her steady until her feet found the ground. Hand in hand, they walked through the courtyard, their path bordered by thick evergreen shrubs and vibrant flowerbeds depicting a spectrum of colors. Statues of richly adorned men with furrowed brows and stern expressions lined their route as guards straightened their stance, standing tall two paces apart on either side.

Edward’s hand hovered over the cool, smooth handle of the wooden door. With a deep breath, he grabbed hold and heaved with all his strength, pushing the door open with a loud creak. In the foyer, a wild-eyed and tousled-golden-haired little boy whirled around, and his eyes widened when they caught sight of Edward. He raced towards him with a glowing smile plastered across his face. “Dad!” Edward opened his arms and caught him mid-air, swinging him around in a big hug.

He grabbed his son’s tiny shoulders and held him close, inspecting his face intently as he ruffled his shock of blonde hair. “James, what are you doing out of bed?” he asked a hint of amusement in his voice.

He lifted his chin, a silent plea in his eyes. “I was waiting for you,” he said softly.

Edward hung his head, and his shoulders sagged, a deep despair and guilt etched in the wrinkles around his eyes. “My apologies, my boy. I never meant for you to wait this long.”

James squinted at Emelia, taking in her long black hair and round cheeks. He turned back to his father, a question in his bright blue eyes. “Who is she?” he asked, his small finger pointing toward her.

Edward forced his lips to curl into a slight smile. “James,” he said, his voice warm and gentle, “this is Emelia.”

“Emelia?” A voice echoed through the hall, a hint of curiosity in its tone. As if on cue, a tall figure appeared from around the corner. The woman’s dark hair cascaded down her back like a waterfall and glittered in the moonlight from the window. Her shimmering dress was made of gold fabric adorned with intricate embroidery along the neckline and sides. Several rings and jewelry pieces shone around her neck and fingers as she walked up to Emelia, her diamond earrings almost seeming to sparkle in her ears. Gripping her gown, she walked with poise and precision. A mere glance made it clear that she held authority over the room. After reassuring James that all would be well, she bid Nathan to take him back to his chambers.

Nathan bowed his head deeply, then placed his hand on James’ shoulder, gently squeezing it before lifting his gaze to meet Queen Angeline’s. “Yes, Queen Angeline,” he said respectfully.

The woman spun around, her face now a stony mask, and she fixed Emelia with a suspicious glare. Her voice was sharp and demanding as she asked, “Where did you pick up this...this child?”

“Do we really have to do this now?” Edward asked, his voice rising with frustration. Queen Angeline remained still, her face unreadable as she fixed her gaze upon her son. Edward sighed in resignation and continued, “She was with Lily in captivity, and they were close. She’ll be staying with us from now on,” His face softened as he spoke, revealing a glint of compassion in his eyes.

Queen Angeline remained resolute. “I think not,” she declared.

“Why not?” Edward replied as he lightly touched Emelia’s shoulder, trying to hide the sudden sadness and guilt that had overwhelmed him at that moment. His face betrayed his feelings, but he quickly reverted back to his normal expression; however, Emelia could see the pain lingering in his eyes.

“She’s not royalty,” Angeline said, her voice low and pointed, “She doesn’t belong in this castle.”

Edward’s heart ached as he recalled his wife’s final request, whispered weakly to him moments before she died. “Take good care of her,” she had said. He could still hear her voice, and his eyes filled with tears. “It’s Lily’s dying wish,” he murmured.

Angeline’s eyes widened, and her jaw dropped as she stared at him incredulously. “You can’t possibly be serious,” she breathed in disbelief.

Edward’s eyes narrowed as he spoke. “I am, and I intend to keep it,” he said, his voice tinged with anger.

Angeline gave Emelia a long and thorough once-over, her gaze lingering on the girl’s dark skin, blood-stained dress, and dirt-streaked face. She pursed her lips and raised an eyebrow as if she had expected such a sight. “Fine,” she said reluctantly. “She can stay, but on one condition.”

Edward crossed his arms over his chest and shifted his weight to one leg as he asked, “What’s that?” He feigned interest, not wanting the conversation to drag on any longer.

“She trains to become a lady in waiting.” Queen Angeline snapped her fingers to catch Emelia’s attention, and a sly smile appeared on her lips as she watched Emelia jump out of her skin, “And how old are you?”

Emelia sheepishly looked at Angeline. “I’m–I’m 14 years old,” she said, her voice carrying a tremor.

“Great.” Angeline looked back at her son as her eyes lit up at the prospect, “She can start her training immediately, out of the sight of others, of course. And in four years, she’ll be ready to debut on her 18th birthday.”

Edward’s face was stony as he looked Emelia in the eye, the silence in the room almost oppressive. He seemed to weigh his options before releasing a heavy sigh and finally speaking. “Deal.”

“Very well,” the queen conceded, inclining her head slightly in a regal nod as Nathan returned from escorting James back to his chambers. She gestured for him to lead the way. “Nathan, show her to the cottage outside the castle,” she said, her voice ringing out in the hall before stepping away towards the grand staircase. “I’ll send Lucy, my head servant, to help train her,” she said over her shoulder as she swept away.

“Come this way,” Nathan beckoned Emelia to follow him. She glanced back at Edward and saw his face etched with sorrow. Emelia’s stomach churned with dread, but she forced herself to turn away and followed Nathan, unsure and hoping that she would be able to learn what was expected of her.