Chapter 130 Interlude Eight

Chapter 130 Interlude Eight
It could be her imagination playing tricks on her.

Queen Isolde straightened, the softness that had filled the chamber only moments ago disappearing so quickly it was almost startling.

The anxious warmth that had been building beneath her skin vanished beneath something far colder and far more familiar.

Authority. Hers.
Her mind moved quickly now, arranging the chaos into order the way it felt easiest to digest.

“How many have contracted the said ailment?” she asked.

“We can’t say for sure yet, Your Majesty,” one of them admitted. “But the physicians say it is spreading through the lower districts first.”

Her stomach tightened. Lower districts meant crowded streets. Crowded streets meant panic.

“And the tower, which one was it?” she asked sharply.

“The marks were found in the northern watchtower. The one that burned two nights ago."

So the first one, then.

For a brief moment she closed her eyes, pressing her fingers lightly against her temple.
One burned tower had already been difficult enough to explain. Now another disturbance, and in the same place.

Something was wrong in her city. Very wrong. And she didn’t know how she felt about the sudden urge to handle it on her own. She was going to tell him, but now she was not sure it was relevant to involve him. She had the foreigner to help her if need be.

“Seal the inner gates,” she ordered immediately. “No one leaves the city until we understand what this illness is.”

Both guards nodded quickly.

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

“Send soldiers through every district. Quietly. I do not want rumors spreading before we know what we are dealing with.”

“Yes, Your Majesty,” they both said in unison without looking away from her for any reason.

“Bring every physician in the palace to the lower districts. Anyone who shows symptoms is to be isolated until the cause is identified.”
The guards bowed again.

Then turned to leave, but Isolde’s voice stopped them once more.

“And the tower,” she said.

Both men paused.

“Secure it. No one enters until I arrive.”
The guards blinked in surprise.

“You will be going yourself, Your Majesty?”
Her gaze hardened.

“I will not rule this city from behind curtains while something hunts in my streets.”

The answer seemed to satisfy them, or at least that’s what she interpreted the look on their faces to be.
They bowed deeply and hurried out of the chamber, their footsteps echoing through the corridor as they rushed to carry out her commands.

When the door finally closed, the room grew quiet again.
For a moment Isolde simply stood there.
Breathing and thinking quickly at the same time.

Then she became aware of something. Or rather someone.

Her gaze slowly shifted to the side where the foreigner had not moved.
He still stood beside the bed exactly where he had been moments ago, watching her with that same unsettling calm that never seemed to leave his face.

The thought slipped into her mind before she could stop it.

Why does he look so unsurprised? Does he just go around expecting the worst?

“You heard them,” she said after a moment.
His lips curved faintly.

“I did.”

“And yet you seem remarkably calm for a man who has just been told a beast may be roaming the capital.”

His expression did not change even with the “clarification.” There was something about this man that just captivated her in the strangest way possible.

“Panic rarely improves a situation,” he said, tucking both his hands behind his back and swallowing. “Actually, it never does.”

She studied him for a long moment.

“One thing about you that interests me is your ability to always speak as though you have experienced every situation.”

His smile deepened slightly, but he didn’t say anything yet. Instead, he watched the queen, who seemed dedicated to looking unshaken. Brave. Which he thought was foolish.

“Well, Your Grace, I can’t say I haven’t experienced it all,” he said casually, and she took a moment to absorb his words.

Should they continue from where earlier, before the guards barged in?
No!

She scolded herself. That was unwise, and since he was pretending it never happened, she should too. There was no “magic” in the air.

Something about him made the air feel strange and heavy.

So why did she trust him so much?
She turned away before the thought could settle any deeper.

“I am going to the tower,” she said, reaching for the cloak draped across the chair.

Behind her she heard the faint rustle of fabric.

“I assumed you might.”
She paused mid-movement, looked to him briefly, then resumed. She slowly fastened the clasp of her cloak.

“I will accompany you,” he offered as he moved closer to the door, waiting for her to join him as though the decision had already been made.
A small voice in the back of her mind broke out of the trance and spoke up.

You should tell him to stay.

You should remind him that he has no place accompanying you through the city.

You should get the king.

Instead she said nothing.