Chapter 111 Is this all a nightmare??
Maureen Laskovic:
I stared at the still water of the pool, my thoughts drifting so far away that the world around me blurred into nothing.
The surface barely moved, yet my mind refused to settle.
Everything felt… too loud.
Too heavy.
Too close.
“Are you okay?”
The familiar voice cut through my thoughts, and I flinched slightly as I turned.
Nyxara.
“Hey…” I murmured, forcing something that resembled a smile.
She didn’t return it.
Instead, her brows pulled together as she walked closer, her gaze scanning my face like she was reading everything I wasn’t saying.
“You don’t look good,” she said plainly.
I let out a quiet breath, leaning back slightly against the edge behind me.
“Welcome back, Nyx,” I said, attempting lightness. “I hope you got me something.”
She huffed a small laugh, but it didn’t last.
“Now what is it?” she asked, folding her arms.
“Nothing.”
Her expression didn’t change.
“You’re lying.”
I looked at her for a long second, then away again.
Of course she would know.
“You do know I have babies now, right?” I asked, my voice quieter this time, my eyes returning to hers.
She nodded slowly.
“I know.”
“But that’s not the point…” I exhaled, dragging a hand through my hair. “That’s not even—” I paused, frustration tightening in my chest. “Can I… can I tell you something?”
“Of course, Maureen,” she said immediately, her tone softening. “What’s wrong?”
I laughed.
But there was nothing funny in it.
“Moon Goddess…” I muttered under my breath. “I fucking hate my life right now.”
Her expression shifted—concern, sharper now.
“I just… I can’t wrap my head around this,” I continued, shaking my head. “I don’t understand why I’m the one dealing with this. Why now…”
Nyxara stepped closer.
“What happened?”
I looked at her again, really looked this time.
“The court ladies came.”
She didn’t react immediately.
Just waited.
“They want my babies.”
Her brows pulled together slightly.
“That’s not—”
“It is,” I cut in quickly, my voice rising. “They want to take them. They said it’s ‘tradition’—that I’m not allowed to see them until some induction ceremony. That they’ll take care of them.”
Nyxara exhaled slowly, like she was choosing her words carefully.
“Maureen… that’s how it works here. It’s a Northern custom. They don’t take them away from you—they just—”
“No.” I shook my head immediately, stepping back. “No, that’s not what it feels like.”
My chest tightened again, the memory of holding Lauren flooding back.
“They already didn’t recognize me,” I said, my voice dropping. “They didn’t know my scent. They clung to Vuk like I didn’t exist and I told myself it was fine… that it would get better…”
I swallowed.
“But now I’m supposed to just hand them over?”
My voice cracked slightly.
“To strangers?”
“Maureen…” Nyxara said gently, stepping closer again.
“No,” I snapped, more sharply than I intended. “Don’t. Don’t try to make it sound normal.”
Silence fell between us for a moment.
Heavy.
Uncomfortable.
Then she spoke again, calmer this time.
“No one is taking your babies away from you,” she said carefully. “It’s a tradition. A stupid one, maybe—but still just a tradition. They raise the heirs under supervision until induction. That’s all.”
“That’s not all,” I whispered.
Because it didn’t feel like “all.”
It felt like loss.
Like being pushed aside.
Like being replaced.
“Maureen…” she said again, softer now. “If you’re not okay with it, then say something.”
I looked at her.
“What do you mean?”
“Tell Vuk.”
The answer came too easily.
Too simply.
I shook my head.
“I don’t want to be… overbearing,” I said quietly. “I don’t want to be that Luna who bends everything just because she can.”
Nyxara stared at me for a moment.
Then shook her head slightly.
“This isn’t about power,” she said. “This is about you.”
A pause.
Then, firmer—
“It’s you against you right now.”
“Can’t I just have my babies without all this?” I asked, my voice breaking as tears slipped down my cheeks. “Who the hell made this tradition?”
“Hey… hey,” Nyxara stepped forward quickly, pulling me into a hug. “Queens don’t cry like this.”
I let out a shaky breath the moment she wrapped her arms around me, my body softening despite myself. The tension I hadn’t realized I was holding eased slightly, if only for a moment.
“Have you even slept?” she asked, pulling back just enough to look at me.
“Not really…”
She clicked her tongue softly. “You should. You look exhausted. Those eye bags are starting to fight for dominance.”
A weak laugh escaped me.
“I promise you,” she continued more gently, brushing a strand of hair away from my face, “everything will be fine.”
I nodded slowly, even if I wasn’t sure I believed it.
“Thank you, Nyxara…” I said quietly. “You’re one in a million. I don’t even know what I would’ve done without you right now.”
She smiled faintly, squeezing my hand.
“You’d survive. You always do.”
“My lady…”
I turned at the sound of my name.
Celeste stood a few steps away, composed as always.
“It’s time for your nap,” she said calmly.
Of course it was.
Everything had a schedule now.
“Alright,” I replied. “I’ll be back.”
Nyxara’s gaze shifted toward her, studying her openly.
“Who’s that?” she asked once Celeste stepped aside.
“Celeste,” I said simply.
A small pause followed.
Then—
“Hmm. Cassian’s.”
I nodded. “Yeah… but we shouldn’t judge her based on her past.”
Nyxara didn’t look convinced.
“Yeah… maybe,” she said slowly. “Still, I don’t like her. You should be careful.”
Something in her tone made me hesitate.
But I only nodded.
“I will.”
With that, I turned and walked back toward the room, Celeste already waiting ahead of me.
\---
I didn’t know how long I slept. When I finally woke, the room was dark and heavy with silence. I scratched at my dry skin and sat up sluggishly, my body still aching from exhaustion.
Clicking on the bedside lamp, I padded out of the bedroom. The entire wing felt unnaturally quiet—too quiet for a house that now held three newborns. No distant cries, no soft coos, no rustle of maids moving about. Nothing.
A cold thread of unease curled in my stomach as I made my way to the nursery.
The door was ajar. I pushed it open.
Empty.
No bassinets occupied. No maids. No babies.
My heart slammed against my ribs.
“Celeste!” My voice cracked through the hallway. “Celeste!”
Silence answered me.
I rushed down the next corridor, bare feet slapping against the cold marble, voice rising with every step.
“Celeste! Where are you?! Where are my babies?!”
Panic clawed up my throat. Lauren. The boys. My mind flashed to their tiny faces.
Not again. Not them too.
I was screaming their names now, when three figures finally emerged from the nursery at the far end of the hall.
Celeste, wide-eyed, with two other maids trailing behind her.
“My lady…?” Celeste’s voice was calm, almost concerned. “Are you okay? You’re screaming.”
I stared at them, chest heaving.
They were coming out of the nursery.
The same nursery I had just checked.
I didn’t think. I just moved.
Rushing forward, I snatched Lauren from Celeste’s arms, clutching my daughter against my chest so tightly the baby let out a small, startled whimper. The familiar weight of her brought a fractured sob from my lips.
“Where were you?!” I demanded, voice shaking. “Where did you take them?!”
Celeste blinked, then slowly lowered herself to her knees, the other two maids following suit.
“My lady, we’ve been in the nursery the entire time,” she said gently, head bowed. “We never left.”
“That’s a lie!” I snapped. “I just came from there. The room was empty. No one was inside. I checked!”
Tears burned hot down my cheeks as I rocked Lauren, trying to soothe both her and the terror still rattling inside me.
“I left the room for my nap and when I came back—nothing. Where were you hiding them?!”
The maids exchanged uneasy glances but remained on their knees.
Celeste lifted her gaze carefully. “Perhaps you were still half-asleep, my lady. The triplets have been fussy, but we’ve been right here caring for them.”
“No,” I whispered, then louder, “No. I know what I saw.”
My hands trembled around Lauren’s small body. I could still feel the heavy silence of that empty room, the way the air had felt wrong.
Celeste hesitated, then offered softly, “If it would ease your mind, my lady… we can check the CCTV footage from the hallway and nursery cameras.”
I nodded sharply, still clutching Lauren like she might vanish if I let go.
We moved to the security room in tense silence. One of the guards pulled up the feed.
The timestamp matched the time I had woken up.
The footage showed Celeste and the two maids inside the nursery the entire time—gently rocking the triplets, changing diapers, murmuring soft words. There was no gap. No moment where they left.
And most damning of all… there was no footage of me entering the nursery at all.
I stared at the screen, my reflection ghostly in the monitor.
“I… I was there,” I whispered, voice breaking. “I walked in. I saw the empty room. I called for you…”
But the camera said otherwise.
Celeste remained quiet, respectful, yet I caught the flicker of something in her eyes—pity, maybe. Or concern that ran deeper.
“My lady,” she said carefully, “perhaps the stress… the lack of sleep… it can play tricks on the mind after childbirth, especially with
triplets.”
I shook my head slowly, tears still falling.
But doubt was already creeping in, cold and insidious.
Had I imagined it?
Had my exhausted, terrified mind created a nightmare while I was still half-awake?
Or was something else happening here?
Something the cameras couldn’t—or wouldn’t—show.