Duty

POV: Alexandra

Mordred had a sheen of sweat on his forehead, his face pale and drawn. Concern tugged at my heart as I raised one of my brows and said, “Should you even be out of bed?”

A voice, firm yet laced with worry, echoed from the top of the stairs. “That’s what I told the old fool, but who am I to be listened to? Only his daughter. Maybe he’ll listen to you, Xan.” Vanessa’s frustration was evident, yet there was an underlying tenderness in her tone.

I turned to smile at Vanessa, who stood there with her long, wavy red hair uncharacteristically pulled into a bun. She was dressed in a sharp blue suit, a light blue blouse that highlighted her eyes, her signature black stilettos clicking on the marble steps, and black-rimmed glasses that framed her determined expression. She held a stack of folders and papers, her movements graceful as she descended the stairs.

Vanessa’s eyes softened with a mix of exasperation and affection as she approached her father. “He even tried to take his duties back,” she said, shaking her head. “Thank God Aunt Zeb was here. She bullied him into backing off. Unfortunately, she left this morning, and he snuck out of his room to be here. Surely what you have to say can be said while you are resting.”

Mordred shrugged, a stubborn glint in his eyes despite his obvious fatigue. “Best I can do is sit on a plush couch in the lounge. This is important,” he insisted, his voice gravelly yet resolute.

Vanessa sighed, her hand gently resting on her father’s shoulder. “Dad, please. Your health comes first.”

The room seemed to hold its breath, the air thick with unspoken worries and the deep bond of family love. Mordred, seeing the concern etched on both our faces, finally nodded. “Alright, the lounge it is,” he conceded, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

He leveled a gaze at me that spoke volumes, a silent command to follow. With a deliberate turn, he leaned heavily on his cane and began to walk, each step a testament to his stubborn determination. Vanessa leaned in close, her breath warm against my ear as she whispered, “Promise me you’ll convince him to take it easy for a few days.”

I nodded, my jaw clenched with frustration. “Oh, I’m definitely going to try. I’m frankly pissed he felt the need to get out of bed when I could have met him there.”

She sighed deeply, her eyes reflecting a mix of worry and exasperation. “He said earlier that he didn’t want to show you the weak side of him. He has it in his mind that you see him as a pillar of strength. Stubborn old fool.”

A man approached us briskly, his voice cutting through the tension. “Regent, we have to go to the meeting now.”

Vanessa nodded, her shoulders slumping slightly as if bearing the weight of endless responsibilities. “It’s never-ending,” she murmured. Then, with a touch of warmth returning to her voice, she added, “Hey, go see your uncle before you leave. He should be in the library. He’s been worried about you.”

Her heels clacked sharply on the marble floor as she walked away, a stark contrast to the softer clack of Mordred’s cane echoing from the opposite end of the foyer. The juxtaposition of sounds mirrored the clash of emotions within me—frustration, concern, and a deep-seated love for this stubborn man who refused to show his vulnerability.

I sighed heavily, a mixture of determination and worry weighing down my steps as I followed after Mordred. Jynx, ever the faithful companion, padded silently behind me, her presence a comforting shadow.

As we moved through the grand hall, the opulent surroundings felt cold and distant compared to the warmth of the familial bonds that tied us all together.

We finally found ourselves standing in front of the lounge, and Mordred, with a soft grunt, pushed the door open. The room revealed itself like a hidden gem—a neat little lounge adorned with purple velvet upholstered furniture. The rich colors and textures gave the space a cozy, regal feel. At the far end of the room, a fireplace blazed, casting a warm, golden glow that danced over the two plush, inviting chairs set before it.

Mordred's eyes sparkled with a hint of mischief as he glanced over my shoulder at Jynx. “You will go to your Order, child. You have things to do there. Leave us to ourselves.”

Jynx looked at me, her worry clear in the furrow of her brow and the tightness of her lips. The thought that Mordred might be an afflicted flickered in her eyes, a silent question. I shook my head firmly. “Not possible, Jynx. Please do as you are told.”

She sighed, a sound heavy with reluctance and concern, and nodded before turning to make her way further down the hall. Her departure was marked by the soft padding of her steps.

Mordred watched her go, his expression softening into a smile. “She’s badly injured. No use to you for the time being. I’m recalling her temporarily. You need a capable witch by your side for what’s to come.”

His words hung in the air, laden with ominous significance. He gestured toward the chairs near the fireplace, the flames reflecting in his eyes. “Please, take a seat.”

I took his arm gently, feeling the frailty beneath the stubborn resolve. “I’m going to help you over there. You look like you’re struggling to stay upright. Aunt Ness was right, you needed to stay in bed.”

He shook his head, a flicker of defiance in his eyes. “I need to be strong. For you.”

Ignoring his protests, I guided him towards the chair by the fireplace, easing him down with care. “And you can be strong sitting down,” I said, my voice firm but kind. I pulled over an ottoman from the side and gently propped his feet on top of it, making sure he was comfortable. A small nod of satisfaction escaped me as I saw him settle into the chair, more rested than he probably intended.

I took the seat across from him, crossing my arms with a challenging smile. “There, that’s better.”

He sighed, the sound heavy with reluctant amusement. “I don’t know who is worse. You or Vanessa. I’m fine.”

Shaking my head, I leaned forward, my eyes locking onto his. “I know you, Mordred. You are not fine. You were hunched over that cane as if you actually needed it when you usually use it as a statement piece. Your forehead is slick with sweat, and you were burning up when I touched you. You are not fine. Sometimes, strength is in knowing when you need to take care of yourself.”

My glare was unwavering, challenging him to deny the truth. His resistance faltered, and he held up his hands in a gesture of surrender. “Okay, okay. I promise to rest after this.”

I nodded, pleased with myself for having guilted him into doing as he was told. “Good. Now, let’s get on with it,” I said, my tone softening with a hint of triumph.

The room settled into a comforting silence, the fire crackling warmly beside us, casting a gentle glow that danced over Mordred’s features. His eyes, though weary, held a depth of wisdom and a flicker of gratitude. This was a battle won with care and love, a testament to the unbreakable bond between us.

He turned to me, his expression growing serious. “Now to the reason I asked you here.”

I nodded, leaning in. “Right, the Gathering. Whatever that is.”

He sighed, the weight of the explanation clear in his eyes. “It is an event that happens every four years. The Kings of the realms and kingdoms gather to discuss diplomatic relations amongst them. This means that a number of people from each place will be visiting. This will include the Heavenly realm. Vellum is set to host this time, so you won’t have to leave the realm.”

I furrowed my brows, trying to piece it all together. “Why would I have to leave the realm if there was a Gathering somewhere else?”

He chuckled softly, a sound both amused and fond. “You are a Queen, are you not?”

My mouth dropped open, shock flooding my senses. “How the hell did you know that? We aren’t telling many until we are ready.”

He tapped his temple, indicating that he had caught a glimpse of my mind when he contacted me telepathically. I should have known; he had invaded my privacy before. Rolling my eyes, I huffed. He smiled and said, “Yes, I know. You can berate me all you want, but a man worries about his family. I wanted to ensure you were okay. Looks like you regained your memories. I had been told you had amnesia.”

I shrugged, the memory of that confusing time still a blur. “I’m not even sure how that happened.”

His smile widened, a hint of mischief dancing in his eyes. “I can tell you, but later. Let’s get back on track here. My purpose for bringing you here cannot be understated.”

He stared at the fireplace, the flames casting flickering shadows across his pensive face. “With all these people come dangers that you can’t even imagine. There’s always something that has the potential to happen. It is not lost on me that the dark heart will come to this realm along with everyone else. My oracle saw it. We still aren’t sure who it is, but they will be part of an envoy. They are getting more aggressive. That mind link of yours was proof of that. We need strength around you. That is why I pulled Jynx from her duties. She is not letting on, but her injuries are more severe than just a few deep gashes. It is more…internal.”

I caught on to what he was implying. Something had happened to Jynx mentally when she was attacked by William. Mordred clearly thought that having Jynx guarding me was not the best option right now. I sighed, concern lacing my voice. “Is she going to be okay?”

He nodded and smiled at me gently, acknowledging the worry in my eyes. “With a little therapy. There’s no shame in admitting you are weakened mentally. She just has to realize it herself and take the steps to get better.”

I had always been an advocate for mental health, and this situation was no different. Mordred knew this through his mind link with her, and I didn’t question it. I wanted her to take the time she needed to heal. “Is there anything I can do?” I asked.

He nodded, his gaze steady. “There will come a time when she will need reassurance from you that she did not fail you. When that time comes, I will be sure to summon you.”

I nodded, my resolve firm. “Okay, you can be assured that I will be here when needed. So, on to the topic, who is replacing her? I presume you want to have a capable witch with me.”

Mordred nodded, his expression serious. “I have summoned her from the same Order as Jynx. She’s now our most capable witch and, frankly, on par with Jynx, so you will still have a strong ally at your side.”

As if summoned by his words, the grand doors of the room swung open to reveal a tall blonde woman. She exuded an air of formidable strength, her muscular build evident but not exaggerated like a bodybuilder's. Her hair was braided in a style reminiscent of a fierce Viking warrior, and as she approached, her unique silver eyes locked onto mine, assessing me with a penetrating gaze. She was dressed in all black, just as Jynx had always been, a symbol of her dedication and seriousness.

She knelt gracefully in front of Mordred. “My King, I am here as ordered.”

Mordred twitched his fingers, a subtle command for her to rise. She stood, placing her hands behind her back in a posture of disciplined readiness. Mordred looked up at her, his voice firm. “This is Alexandra, the Priestess of Ophiuchus. You will be assigned to guard her in Jynx’s place for the foreseeable future. Do you understand?”

Alexandra gave a single, curt nod. “Understood, Your Majesty.”

Mordred then turned his gaze back to me, his eyes steady and reassuring. “This is Lysandra, your new guardian in Jynx’s stead.”

I smiled up at her, hoping to break through the stern exterior. “It is nice to meet you, Lysandra.”

She didn’t return the smile. Instead, she gave a mechanical nod, her demeanor clearly indicating that she was all business. It was a stark reminder that she and Jynx were cut from the same cloth—both no-nonsense and deeply serious about their duties.

I could feel the weight of her assessment, as if she were sizing up my strengths and weaknesses in that brief moment. Despite her stoic appearance, I sensed a fierce loyalty and a readiness to protect. The room seemed to hold its breath, the flickering fire casting shadows that danced around us.

She finally spoke to me and said, “It will be my greatest honor to serve you, Your Eminence.”

Mordred waved her off, indicating he was done with her, and Lysandra silently stepped behind me, standing as a vigilant sentinel. She embodied the very essence of a guardian, her presence a silent yet powerful reassurance. Mordred turned his attention back to me, a knowing smile playing on his lips. “Now, let’s get to the reason you regained your memories.”

I leaned in, curiosity piqued, though I knew better than to expect a logical explanation. Ever since coming to Vellum, the answer to every mystery had been steeped in magic. He smiled again, his eyes twinkling with a hint of mischief. “Dear, you took a bath last night, right?”

I furrowed my brows, puzzled by the seemingly mundane question. “Yeah, of course I did. Why?”

He waved his hand dismissively and leaned back in his seat, his expression turning more serious. “Has your husband explained to you the conditions for him taking the throne?”

I shook my head, intrigued by where this conversation was heading. He continued, “Twelve abilities. The Lycans call it the Twelve Steps. I’ll tell you all about it in a bit, but what I really want to point out is his ability to make a potion that he’s not even aware he can. It has rather good healing abilities for his kin, especially the one tied to him through a sacred bond.”