I'm happy to say that I have started to take pictures for the new chapter! I'm busy tomorrow though and I believe I'm going to a drive in movie on Sunday, but fingers crossed for Monday posting!
Seneca stared at the listless figure laying in the bed. If he blinked, as solid as she had been for the past few hours, he felt that she would disappear. He had never been able to see her this way, so still, unmoving, unoccupied. She had the same markings on her hands and arms that she had three years ago, but her face was a bit less vibrant. He knew that she had nearly drowned, but he remembered her with redder lips, more color in her cheeks. Definitely more sparkles on her clothes, as if she were an angel the Church kept talking about.
The smoke from the fire made him blink, and she was still there. Her shoulder moved, and she rolled over, facing him. He looked at her face, a slightly pointed nose a bit too prominent to be feminine, sculpted eyebrows, long lashed eyes. How old was she? Where did she come from? If she had been in this province he would have met her or seen someone in her family that looked like her, but there was no one. It was as if she not only dropped into the water but out of the sky.
Gloria opened her eyes to a dark room, lit by a crackling fire. Her head ached like an anvil was weighing on it, and her arms and legs felt like she hadn’t moved them in days. She slowly flexed her fingers, gathering dexterity in them as she repeated the motions.
She closed her eyes against the light, and considered what she knew. She was in a bed, not laying on the cold, hard ground. There was a fire but it was in a fireplace, not a campfire. There were dry blankets on her, not her damp from dew skirt she used as a cover the past few nights. Wherever she was, it wasn’t half bad. At least, that’s what she hoped.
She opened her eyes, and looked around the small portion of the room she could see. It was sparsely furnished; there were a few paintings on the walls, and a dresser with a pile of folded fabric on it. Was it blankets? Clothes? It was too hard to tell in the minimal light.
Head still pounding, she heard bustling beneath her. Based on the din of laughing voices and clinking ceramics, she guessed that she was in an inn. How did she get here? Was this the ever-after? She was supposed to be dead, drowned by that man who smelled like rust and old sweat. She decided she didn’t feel dead.
With teeth bared, she pushed herself up and swung her legs out of the bed. Her head screamed and her vision went dark for a moment as her body acclimated to being upright. There was something on her hand, what was it? It glittered and seemed to be made of rings and a bracelet. She was wearing a snug necklace as well, and a different shift? She was starting to heavily consider she may be dead after all.
(Her fingers are going through her skirt, they aren't short.)
In the deep corner of the room, where he may have been able to hide if the fire wasn’t as high as it was, sat a man. Gloria mentally went to reach for her fire abilities, but found she couldn’t find them. She couldn’t find anything. She couldn’t sense anything either, not the thoughts of the figure in the room, or how many people were below her, or even the coming weather patterns. What was wrong with her?
“Good-” the figure rubbed his face roughly, “-actually I’m not sure what time it is. It’s night of some sort. Nearly dawn.”
“You - I know you. I swear I know you. Where do I know you from?” Gloria wasn’t afraid of the strange man, and she was having a hard time figuring out why. She had been apprehensive of Rufus, Marco, and Angus and she had been able to sense them, and yet with this man she felt no fear. He was familiar....
“You know, to no one but you am I forgettable.” He stood up and moved the light chair closer to her, and further into the light, and Gloria remembered clearly where she had seen him. She had spent a bit more than three years trying to forget him, trying to avoid the dreams that Midshore had insisted were important.
She stared at his amber eyes. “I’m dead. I must be dead.” she murmured.
“You’re very much alive, thanks to me.” he claimed as he settled into his chair. “Imagine my disbelief when I see the girl from the swirling sky being thrown into a river, assumably accused of being a witch. That was tough to come to terms with quickly. So I have one question- no, actually, I have several, but the first one is why the heck are you real?” He wasn’t sure if he was feeling curious or hostile. He couldn’t separate the two; it was as if they were writhing in a massive ball in his chest. On one hand, he couldn’t believe that the answers he had always wanted were so close to being had, but also that she hadn’t arrived sooner to tell everyone that his dreams once a month weren’t his imagination. Where the heck had she been his whole life, now that he knew she was real?
“I was born, just like everyone else, so I’m not sure I understand your meaning.” Born like everyone else who is resurrected before they breathe, has a prophecy told the moment they’re born, and can use magic.
“I haven’t seen you in my dreams in years! Where have you been? Where did you come from? What are you doing here?” Seneca raised his voice as he spoke. His questions only lead to more questions, and he craved every answer.
“Seneca. Your name is Seneca.” she said simply with a smile on her face, as if remembering puppy fondly.
He slumped back in his chair. “You have no idea how insulting it is to have your name forgotten when I’ve literally had you in my dreams. Oh, and what the heck is your name?!” he had renewed vigor as he leaned in again.
“It’s a bit odd to ask someone their life story so bluntly. My name is Gloria Reed, I’m from the Western Islands, and I’m here with my beloved, Aubade. Or maybe he wants to go by Blake while he’s here. We hadn’t agreed, but he seemed pretty set on being called Blake…” She started to get side tracked. “We’re here to see his father who lives in the capitol before he dies. We met up with two other men who were there to accompany us to the capitol, and while we were camping for the night we were set upon by people in white armor. They captured the other people we were with, and one of the people in armor was a man with a horribly hooked nose. He was the one who threw me over the cliff because he thought I was a witch. He also said he knew my parents, which is hard to believe. I don’t know what to believe anymore…. Oh, Blake…” with the memory of what happened, she put her head in her hands.
“Blake? As in, the Blakes? The family of the Duchess of Malice? The main supporters of the king?” he pressed.
“I don’t know. I don’t know anything. I’m from the Islands, we don’t bother with the politics of the Mainland.”
“No, over in your blessed utopia with democracy and equality, I wouldn’t think you would,” he mocked the stressed syllables.
“What’s your problem? I don’t even know who you are. I never thought you’d be real. You were just the slightly aggressive boy from my dreams that I avoided for the last three years, and you seem to be even more aggressive in person. Now, if you would help me get back to my company, I need to be on my way and I need to help Bla-Aubade before he’s hurt.”
“Gloria, you’ve slept a night, a day, and another night. Whatever trail he may have left on the other side of the river is long cold, and we don’t want to interrupt the Templar anyhow. He deserves whatever is coming to him, believe me.” Seneca informed.
“What are you talking about? Aubade is a good man, he’s innocent of any crime they convict him of.” Gloria urged.
“Well, I highly doubt he’ll get a fair trial.” Seneca said casually. “Such a strong supporter of the king wouldn’t be allowed to live.”
“I need to save him!” Gloria stood on wobbly legs to move towards the door, but she saw again that she was wearing a new shift. “What am I wearing?” she exclaimed, frustrated with how little Seneca was helping her.
“Your clothes were ruined and you were in nothing but your shift when I dragged you out of the water. I bought some new clothes for you from the market and had the barmaid dress you.” Seneca explained. Gloria reached for her collar. “Oh, that. Witches aren’t normally killed outright, and we need a way to make sure they don’t escape. I was able to acquire the necessary trinkets to prevent you from doing whatever you-” he wiggled his hands and looked her over, “-do.”
Gloria looked at him and seethed. “You know, not to be rude, but is there anyone else that could look after me? I’m not enjoying your company as much as I thought I would.” she gave a fake smile.
Seneca leaned back in his chair. “Sorry, last I saw of Henry, his dinner was making a reappearance via his mouth. He’s been pale for a week, and I don’t want my prized prisoner catching whatever could do that to Perfect Henry. You’re stuck with me.” he tilted his head back and looked like he was going to take a nap.
“Prisoner?” Gloria squinted her eyes at Seneca. “Prisoner?” she went to try and take the rings off, but they wouldn’t extend long enough due to being connected to her bracelet. So she tried to take off the bracelet. “If I had my abilities, you’d see who was the prisoner!”
“You need two hands to get that bracelet off, don’t even try it.” he remarked. “We leave at dawn, I recommend you get some sleep. If we make good time, we’ll probably make it back home by evening.”
Gloria sneered at him, then plopped back down on the bed, angry.
~*~
Gloria looked at their traveling companion. He did look rather pale, and Gloria thought that he should be laying down, not trying to put one foot in front of the other. He had bags under his eyes, and he half-stumbled for much of the journey.
Gloria herself wasn’t in the best shape. Her legs still felt a bit limp as she wasn’t used to walking for days without a proper bed and meal, and based on how hungry she was that morning she doubted that Seneca had bothered to feed her.
She felt deaf to the world without being able to sense her surroundings. The path ahead was all she could see, she couldn’t try and feel the flora and fauna around her.
She got to thinking, why hadn’t she felt the templars approaching? If she remembered the conversation correctly, she was pretty occupied and unfocused, and it was always harder to sense things when her energy was pent up.
They had walked for a while, and apparently the silence was too much for Seneca. “Is there anyone who will come looking for you?” he asked.
“Besides Aubade, I doubt it. I told my parents on the Islands that I would be home in a year, though I’m not sure that’ll be true. I really hoped it would be.”
“So you have a family? Parents?” he asked.
“I do. I have a mother and father, and a Godfather. I have a little brother, twin little sisters, two aunts, three uncles, two grandparents, and a slew of cousins I can hardly keep track of.” she remarked. “What about you?”
Seneca exhaled as if he were too important to say, but he complied with her question. “I have no siblings, but I have a strong heritage.”
“You can tell her, you know. No use keeping it a secret, she’s going to find out soon anyway.” Henry added.
“But if she’s allied with their side, she shouldn’t know. I’m only a rumor. If she tells them I’m real then they’ll spring on us before we’re ready.” Seneca said cryptically.
“She’s not going to get away.” Henry assured.
“Fine.” Seneca rolled his eyes. “Gloria Reed, you have the privilege of talking to the future king of the Mainland, son of the only legitimate queen.” he said hautly.
Gloria’s eyebrows knit together. “I have no idea what any of that means.”
Seneca rolled his eyes again at Henry.
“Nice delivery.” Henry complimented.
They turned inland towards the treeline. “How can you ‘Have no idea what any of that means’? Were you born yesterday?” Seneca asked.
“How many times do I have to tell you, I’m from the Islands!” Gloria exclaimed.
“Forgive me, but no one ever returns from the Islands. They’re a myth, meant to give people hope for something that doesn’t exist.”
They arrived in a clearing with a cobbled together house. Seneca froze up like a rabbit sensing danger, then ran to the house and threw open the door.
Gloria was confused.
“It’s Lady Krista’s carriage. His fiance. We were out looking for her when we found you.” Henry explained. “He didn’t want to stop looking for her, but we didn’t have much of a choice. We had to get you into custody as soon as we could. And I don’t think I could handle another day in my condition.” is voice was beautiful, with warm tones and a smile. He was downright charming, and Gloria could see why he was called Perfect Henry.
He waved his arm towards the door, and she walked to the door obediently. She should have run. He wouldn’t have been able to catch her, he could hardly catch his breath.
They entered the house and Gloria saw Seneca drawing away from a nicely dressed young blonde woman as if he had just embraced her. He had a bit of a flush in his cheeks, and she wondered how much he kept hidden under his cool exterior.
“When did you get in? We went out looking for you.” asked Seneca.
“I arrived yesterday afternoon. I’m sorry I was late, but you should stay where it’s safe. What if you were killed?” Krista asked in a professional tone.
“I was more worried about you than myself.” he said, then turned to include the other woman who was standing in the room, oddly out of place in her regal clothing, as if it were from a bygone day and had been stashed away. “Mother, Krista, I have brought you the beloved of the son of Lady Malice. Gloria Reed.” he presented.
“But the Duchess’s son has been abroad on an assignment for over three years, how is she his beloved?” Krista asked. She stepped closer to Gloria to get a better look at her.
“Apparently they arrived not long ago to see his father. She says she’s been on the Islands.” Seneca filled in.
Krista’s eyes lit up. “You’re the heir.” she breathed. “You’re the child of the king. The baby he lost. Of the queen who died at the hand of terrorists. You’re his missing piece.”
“What are you talking about?” Gloria asked. “What are you all talking about?” she took a seat.
“I've seen the wedding portrait hanging in the main hall of the Palace. The wedding of King Galant and Anwyn Cupshire. You look just like her.” Krista claimed.
(Ignore Gloria in this picture, I love how Krista is looking at the woman)
The woman drew closer to get a good look at Gloria. She looked for a moment and Gloria stood there awkwardly. “It has been many years since I met her, but I do recognize her daughter. But you have the look of not the king, but of the guard. You’re Queen Anwyn’s daughter, but not the king’s.” she said. “You are not the heir to the throne. The only heir to the throne is my own, and he will rule this kingdom.” said the woman. “For I am the rightful queen.”
Gah! Did any of you see that coming? I've kept that hidden for so long, I wanted to tell you guys so much but I couldn't because it would ruin the surprise! Now that that reveal is out of the way, I have to some up with the next big plot line. It's going to be good, I just have to mold it. But you guys know how that goes already.
Thanks for reading, and please please please post your comments and thoughts, and possibly things that you'd like to see done from this point on. I'm at a bit of a junction right now, I'm able to take things into the plot and shift things. So if you have any ideas, now would be the time for them!
It's interesting how the former queen was able to piece it all together. Someone finally made sense of things after Gloria and Seneca had been kept in the dark. It must've been surprising to Gloria to hear her mother referred to as "Queen Anwyn", since she had no idea about her past in the mainland at all. Maybe keeping her in ignorance was to her detriment.
I also had to go back to the first chapters for a refresher, and I completely forgot Anwyn had those random elf ears. They just disappeared at some point
Don't manhandle the urchin. He's not for sale. FIND YOUR OWN! - Xenon the Antiquarian, Dragon Age II
Race Against the Clock: Can your elder sim turn back the clock before their time runs out?
I was also looking back at some chapters, and saw this line by Lady Malice:
"You don’t need to see the child if you don’t want to. Send it to the western islands if that pleases you. But you need to have an heir, no matter what you do with it once it arrives.”
This was before Anwyn was married to the King and before the idea of escaping to the islands was even considered. That bit about the western islands was an interesting call forward
Don't manhandle the urchin. He's not for sale. FIND YOUR OWN! - Xenon the Antiquarian, Dragon Age II
Race Against the Clock: Can your elder sim turn back the clock before their time runs out?
Yeah, I'm not sure when Anwyn's ears went normal . I had forgotten about mentioning the Islands that far back. Oops
Even that was a call forward for you.
I was about to mention that I looked back and Anwyn lost her elf ears in Chapter 13. Nobody noticed and it wasn't acknowledged within the story's universe. I think readers forgot she had them (I did.) A lot was happening in that chapter, so I suppose her ears weren't high on the list.
Don't manhandle the urchin. He's not for sale. FIND YOUR OWN! - Xenon the Antiquarian, Dragon Age II
Race Against the Clock: Can your elder sim turn back the clock before their time runs out?
I think the game finally realized she wasn't a vampire. She was originally a submission for a challenge of some sort, but I loved her so much I humanized her and made her my MC. It took the game a while to realize she was human and should have human ears.
I definitely didn'tsee that coming
I never thought it could have been the former queen since I figured she was killed or something. Idk how I forgot all about her lol. Also I thought she was unable to get pregnant!? So many questions! I can't wait to learn how she was able to keep Seneca a secret.
Such a great surprise though! I hope Seneca and his mom can catch Gloria up to speed about everything and Gloria can finally realize that Aubade/Blake is up to no good. While I was hopeful to learn more about Seneca I do realize that there is still time for that and finally learning the identity of his mother was worth it.
These chapters are always so captivating and leave me wanting more. I can't wait to see what happens next. I'm sure that whatever direction you take the story in, it will be a great one.
I'll admit to being a lurker on this story for the past few months. I honestly love the world you've built. The story is so very rich and I love how it has all come together. I can't wait to see what lies ahead for this generation...I have my suspicions
Chapter 45 This chapter includes violence and stressful situations. If you are triggered by harm, you have been warned.
Lily hadn’t been to visit the Reeds in years, though Romeo made the trip about once a year. Her boys had never met their children, and she was wondering where she was going to fit three more children in their small house.
“You’re sure you don’t want to move into their house for awhile? It has more space.” Romeo asked her again. They had talked about this before. Only two hours before, honestly.
“I’m sure. I’ve never met the kids though, I hope they’ll get along with the boys.” she said tentatively. She wasn’t used to being tentative. She was used to being brave and direct.
“It’ll be fine. Robin is about the same age as our own, just a hair older, and the two girls are dolls apparently. They’ll love you.” Romeo said, not looking her in the eye.
He was hiding something. It had been a while since she had to be sharp with her observation skills, but she could tell when her husband was hiding something. “What are you not telling me?” she asked pointedly.
He fumbled with the pack on the bed. It held old clothes, ones from the Mainland. His style hadn’t changed much when he got here, so a lot of the clothes he had were patched or replaced over the years, but they were still unmistakable.
“I- I’m-” his eyes glistened with tears he rarely showed, and his voice . “She’s my god daughter, Lily.”
A look of disbelief popped onto her face. He continued, “It’s like she were my own child. I was there when she was born, I held her when she wailed as an infant. I taught her to walk! When I got here and Anwyn was dead and I had failed my best friend, and then to have them both brought back to life, I clung to them when I had nothing else. I can’t let her suffer the fate that the king would have her live.”
Lily fummed for a moment, waiting for him to finish. Once he had, he could tell she was beyond angry. “Don’t you think I would want to help Anwyn and Liam if I could? You forget, I have known Liam for years. Year before the Cupshires made their escape, I traveled with him for two years afterwards once he was free of the king. I would give him so much for him to be happy, to support him, but we have our own family! You think you’re going to leave me here by myself with five children to look after!? And you didn’t fly this past me first?”
“Lily, I’m not going to change my mind. I cannot stay here and let the world try and fix this problem; I have to help.” he said simply, forcing himself to look her in the eye.
“You’re choosing their family over your own!” she hollered. “You could die and our sons would have no father. If you die alongside Anwyn and Liam, which, may I remind you, is a strong probability, there are no backup plans. Anwyn may have been brought back from the dead, but without the spirits and Midshore you’ll be dead and there will be no coming back! Romeo, can’t you see that this is foolish! You’re needed here.” she urged.
He turned his head, once again unable to look at her. He took a breath. “Know that I don't make this choice lightly, Lily. I know it took so long for us to have a family, to be truly happy, but you also know that I can’t sit by when action is needed.” he moved towards her, around the bed, but she shifted away from her.
“Please, I don’t want to leave when you’re angry with me.” he pleaded with her.
“Then don’t leave.” she parried.
He lifted the pack from the bed and put it next to the door. “I have to.” He exited the room, hardly holding himself together. While it was hard to say goodbye to Lily, he knew she had a heart of iron. She would make it through ok, but his boys were something else.
They were building a toy set in the main room of the house. Romeo stood in the distance for a moment, trying to sear the sight of the two of them into his mind. He didn’t know when he would see them again. His return wasn’t guaranteed, and it hurt so much to think of never seeing his sons again. Just as he had held Gloria after she was born, he had held his two boys. He had cleaned them after they played in the mud, taught them to use a spoon on their own, how to read. What if he wasn’t here to teach them to shave? Or how to woo women? Or see his grandchildren? He felt his nose 🐸🐸🐸🐸 as his eyes produced tears.
Harrison looked up at his father, concern on his face. “Papa, what’s the matter? Your face is funny.”
His brother Christopher looked up as well, equally confused.
“This is what my face looks like when I’m sad,” Romeo tried to smile, tried to not start crying like a child. “You boys heard that your cousins are coming to stay for a while while Aunt Anwyn and Uncle Liam leave to go to the mainland for a while, right? You had both better be on your best behavior, or when I get back I’m going to ground you for a year, you hear?” he sniffled.
“You’re leaving?” Christopher asked. “Why are you leaving? When will you be back?” he was starting to be alarmed.
“Your cousin Gloria has gone where she should not have gone with people she should not have gone with. Your Aunt, Uncle, and I are going to get her back before anything bad happens.”He stroked his son’s hair. “I will be back just as soon as I can and not a moment later. I will think of you every hour of every day.”
There was a knock on the door. The door opened and Liam peaked his head in. Lana, Skye, and Robin came in the door, sleepy. Anwyn and Liam pulled in some of their items, and Midshore stood outside the door, not coming in.
Romeo turned back to his boys. “I need you to help your mother. This is going to be very hard on her. Promise me that you’ll be good to her and your cousins.”
“I promise,” Harrison said with big eyes. His brother did the same.
“Very good. I love you. Always know that I love you.”
~*~
She was sat on a hard chair in a damp room. The walls were cobbled stone, the floor was rough stone, and the table gave her slivers just by looking at it. This room was obviously not made for comfort.
Seneca followed his mother and Krista into the room.
“Ms. Reed, you tell an interesting tale. You say you’re from the Western Islands, but as we all know their proof of existence is on the same level as, say, the after life. It’s nice to think about, but it’s far from proven.” the queen addressed. She shifted her stance. “By your own admission, you spent years with Lucian Blake, were very close to him, and yet you also say that you know nothing of any plans the king may have? I find that hard to believe.
“Tell us what you know, and this will be a better experience for us both.” she leaned forward on the table.
Seneca saw Gloria shift. “I don’t know anything. I don’t know who the king is, who you are, or what the king plans for me.”
“How many troops does he have?!” the queen hit her hand on the table. “How much does he know about us? Where are his safe houses?!”
Gloria flinched at the burst of anger. “I swear, I don’t know.”
“As much as I’ve been able to collect, there are things that only his closest supporters know. You were aligned with one of his closest supporters, practically his step son, and you expect us to believe that you know nothing?”
“I’ve never lied to you. If I had known anything about what you have here, or wanted to know more, I wouldn’t have been avoiding dreaming of Seneca all these years, would I? I would have been trying to gather information.” Gloria pleaded
“That’s Prince Seneca to you,” Krista corrected snidely. “I don’t know what sort of powers you have, but you won’t be gathering any more information.”
The queen smoothed her skirt. “I see,” she said 🐸🐸🐸🐸. She turned her back and knocked on the door, letting in Barnabus. Compared to most men, he was massively broad and intimidating.
Gloria shifted further into her chair and bit her lip. “You think you can scare me into telling you information that I don’t possess?” she asked. “As much as you try to frighten me, I can’t tell you what you want to hear.”
“He’s not just for show, darling.” the queen said calmly. “I give you one more chance to confess before this turns ugly.”
Gloria’s mouth became a thin line and her eyes went wide. Seneca could feel her shaking though he wasn’t touching her. She shook like a leaf on a branch in a stiff autumn wind, but she didn’t speak.
His mother signaled and Barnabus lashed out, striking Gloria in the face. She cried out, and Seneca flinched. He gritted his teeth.
Gloria turned her head to face his mother, Krista, and Barnabus again, anger on her face. “If I could use my powers, you would be cinder on the floor.” she threatened.
Barnabus lashed out again, and Seneca flinched once more. He made his way to the door and let himself out into the hallway. He tried to even his breath, and the pain he had felt radiating from Gloria diminished by a few degrees.
He heard a sudden noise from in the room and he winced. Another noise came, this one of a shifting table. He winced again.
He knew the noises too well. He had been on the business end of Barnabus enough times to know the score of sounds that came from a beating, and he knew the pain that came along with it, and he knew the fear that was married to it all.
He paced the hallway, wanting to leave the area and have nothing to do with the interrogation, but it would be seen as cowardly. If he was going to be king, he had to be able to stomach an interrogation, gruesome and it may become.
Krista exited the room and brushed off her skirt which wasn’t wrinkled. Seneca walked over to her and leaned against the wall, then quickly stood back up straight. It felt like the wall had bit him, and he looked at it in confusion.
“It should be done soon. She seems to really know nothing about any of it. Too bad, we could have really used more information.” she said. She seemed unbothered.
Seneca heard the raised voice of Barnabus and bristled. “Doesn’t it bother you?” he asked.
“What bothers me?”
“The violence. She said she didn’t know anything, and yet we beat her.” he averted his eyes. “It’s- wrong.”
She looked at him with mild annoyance. “If we believed everyone who said that they didn’t know anything, we wouldn’t know anything. People lie. They do know things that they aren’t willing to tell us without a bit of pressure. The harder we interrogate, the faster we know what they know. It gets results and it shows our foes that we aren’t to be taken lightly.”
“But she’s on no one’s side!” he objected. “She came from the islands. Have you ever heard her accent before? It’s different than any accent I’ve ever heard. She didn’t know who the king was, who we were, heck who the Church was! And we hurt her in exchange?”
The annoyance turned to scepticism. “Are you sure that she didn’t bewitch you before you equipped her? You can’t sympathize with the other side. Not only is she a witch, she’s the king’s sought after heir, and anything that aids the king will cripple us.”
His mother and Barnabus exited the room. They closed the door behind them, not bothering to lock it.
“She’s useless. A pretty face, that’s all. The daughter of Anwyn, yes, but she knows nothing of the king’s plans.” his mother said as she walked away. “I need to write some letters and let our supporters know of the events that have transpired.”
“I’ll join you. I should tell my contacts in the capitol as well. Our plans may have to be accelerated.” Krista added.
Barnabus shadowed the queen and the three of them filed down the hallway. Seneca felt his heart shrink, as he watched them walk away so cavalierly. He looked at the room they had left behind them. He touched the door. It felt like he was touching a candle, painful and sudden. He looked through a crack in the door and saw Gloria curled in a ball on the floor, weeping.
I did this to her. he thought. I brought her here, I’m the reason she is in this mess. All because I wanted to show them that I could be worth something, to earn their praise.
He braced himself and opened the door. How the other three of them had been able to stand being in the same room with her he couldn’t fathom. He felt anger and grief gushing from Gloria like waves of knives. He fought the urge to turn around and forget it all and approached her.
He touched her shoulder, and she flinched away from him like a wounded animal. He saw her face and his stomach turned at the sight of blood. He never could stand the sight of injury, much less the sight of blood.
“If I had my power, this place wouldn’t be standing. You’d all be raised to the ground.” she quietly gurgled. “I hate you all…”
“I’m- I’m so sorry.” he felt the words slip from his lips. He had never said them in honesty before, nor had he meant them so deeply. In the past, he had always said sorry to get himself out of trouble, but he hadn’t truly been apologetic. But now, feeling the pain from Gloria, the betrayal he had sewed in her, the pain his actions had led to, but didn’t feel anything but sorry.
She looked at him, scorn in her eyes. She was judging him, and he felt that he would be worthy of any verdict. “I believe you.” she said through gritted teeth. Her eyes were streaming tears, and her hair had fallen out of its binding.
“Let me take you upstairs. We’ll get you cleaned up, take care of your cuts so they don’t scar as much.” Seneca eased.
Gloria didn’t move. “What’s the point?” her voice was flat.
“The point is to not let them get you down. Don’t let them see that they control you.” he assured.
“But they do. You do.”
It felt like she had stabbed him. “I can’t change what has happened.” he said with firm gentility. He didn’t say anything else. He couldn’t promise anything else. He couldn’t say he could help her, for if he freed her it would be treason.
Besides breathing, she still didn’t move. She just laid her head back against the wall and said nothing.
Seneca carefully slid his arms under her shoulders and knees, careful to be gentle, and he lifted her from the floor. He walked out of the room and went up the stairs to his room. He had modified his room recently to have a bit more space.
He sat her down on the end of the bed and retrieved the water pitcher. It was cold from sitting near the window and not having a fire burning in his room. The light in the room wasn't enough to see by, so he stood and started to light the candles around the room.
His skin 🐸🐸🐸🐸 when she spoke. “Why do they hate me?” she croaked.
He took a deep breath, exhaling through his nostrils. “You may as well know. You’ve already paid for knowledge you don’t have, so it seems only fair that you know what everyone else does.”
He finished lighting the candle and he sat down next to her. “20 years ago, my mother discovered she was expecting a child. It should have been happy news, the monarchy would have an heir. But it was already rumored that she couldn’t bear children anymore, and any child born would be thought to be illegitimate and from another woman, claimed to be hers.
“The signs of her being removed from the throne were all there. The king took several mistresses, never settling on one for too long before moving to another. No one would have believed that my mother and the king had shared a bed in well over a year, though as it’s told-” his cheeks went a shade of pink and he cleared his throat, “they had times of passion on very rare occasions.
“Still, when the king met Queen Anwyn, she knew that he had found the one to replace her. It was early in my mother’s pregnancy so no one knew. Everyone thought she was barren so no one was looking for the signs.
“After some time, the king arranged with the Church to annul his marriage to my mother, and he married Queen Anwyn instead. What he didn’t know was that my mother had told the cook to charm his food so that he could not sire any children. That way her child would be the rightful heir without having to worry another child would be considered for the monarchy over her own.”
He looked up at the wall ahead of him. He had always been terrible at eye contact when being serious. He had once stared into Gloria’s eyes to make her see him, but now that he knew she was mortal and as flesh and blood as he was, it was hard to look at her for long periods of time.
“And so,” he continued, “my mother was removed. She was taken from the palace in a carriage, driven to the border, and dumped. The people seemed pleased with the new queen. She was young, plain but slightly beautiful, and most importantly the probability of bearing a child was higher.”
He stretched his legs. “The story the king likes to tell is that he and Queen Anwyn were madly in love and discovered they were expecting a child on their journey to the northern border. There was a dispute with the native people who lived there, and they were going to rally the troops. The pair was thrilled and they were hoping for a girl, odd as that is. On their journey, they were set upon by a mixture of bandits, terrorists, and knights from their own guard and the queen was kidnaped. They took her with them on boats and sailed into the horizon. It was later said that she had been shot on the shore, but they didn’t know if she was dead or if she had lived. They questioned the head terrorist for months about the whereabouts of the queen and where they had taken her, but he didn’t talk. He eventually escaped and though they hunted him for years they were unable to find him. So the king sent out scouts to every nation, every town, insearch of his missing wife and child.
“You are that child.”
You know how I always say I won't post chapters at 11:30 at night? Well, It's 11:30. Where did the day go?!
I love Seneca's expressive face. I can't get enough of it. It's so easy to get him to make the face I want, and the poor guy wears his feelings on his sleeve constantly!
Welcome, @Kamio, it's a pleasure to have you as a reader!
As always, please share any ideas, comments. or feel free to private message me plot ideas or wishes. I know I keep the plot of the story pretty close to my chest so it's hard to make requests, but if any of you feel inspired, I'll consider just about anything.
Poor Gloria I'm so sorry for her having to go through that. At least Seneca was able to help her somewhat after that fact. He was the only one bothered by the violence and that's pretty sad. Hopefully if he becomes the king he is more of a fair ruler with compassion
I can only imagine all the things going on inside Gloria's head after experiencing that and then being told about her parents and that wild tale.
I have a feeling that if the king were to know that "his child" was alive then he would have a hard time accepting the truth that she isn't actually his.
I'm glad that the queen was able to come up with that plan and truly deceive everyone. Its amazing she has been able to keep Seneca a secret.
Lily's reaction is definitely justified. I wish her the best taking care of all the kids. I hope their boys will do as their dad wished and help as much as they can.
I truly hope Romeo, Anwyn and Liam are about to return home safely with Gloria.
This story seriously keeps getting better and better.
Thanks for the comments, everyone! It truly keeps me going.
I need to sort through all the plot ideas that are coming up. There are so many moving parts that it's hard to iron out! I was explaining to a friend of mine the general plot and ideas about where I want it to kind of go after this, and we talked for three hours or more. I was borderline hoarse afterwards. He gave me some insight, but I feel like his story preferences are a bit different than mine. More death and passion than plotting and secrecy.
Guys, and gals, I need some inspiration. I have a cloud of ideas to go with, but I'm feeling stuck and uninspired. I've run out of songs to draw from at the moment, so that regular source of inspiration isn't helping. I've tried asking my friends what they think, but nothing seems to fit.
So please, either post here or private message me things that either tickle your inspiration, or ideas for the story that you think could be interesting. Otherwise I have to write stuff that I'm not that interested in. And as the people who know my story the best besides myself, I'm hoping you can help me out.
And we can all pray that I become inspired again.
(Not to worry about me keeping up with this, I'm not dropping it now , I'd just rather write something that really interests me than chapters that don't.)
Comments
Seneca: Something about you seems familiar.
Gloria: I was about to say the same.
Seneca: Wait a minute!
Race Against the Clock: Can your elder sim turn back the clock before their time runs out?
...maybe they'd have fared better with the Knights.
Chapter 44
Seneca stared at the listless figure laying in the bed. If he blinked, as solid as she had been for the past few hours, he felt that she would disappear. He had never been able to see her this way, so still, unmoving, unoccupied. She had the same markings on her hands and arms that she had three years ago, but her face was a bit less vibrant. He knew that she had nearly drowned, but he remembered her with redder lips, more color in her cheeks. Definitely more sparkles on her clothes, as if she were an angel the Church kept talking about.
The smoke from the fire made him blink, and she was still there. Her shoulder moved, and she rolled over, facing him. He looked at her face, a slightly pointed nose a bit too prominent to be feminine, sculpted eyebrows, long lashed eyes. How old was she? Where did she come from? If she had been in this province he would have met her or seen someone in her family that looked like her, but there was no one. It was as if she not only dropped into the water but out of the sky.
Gloria opened her eyes to a dark room, lit by a crackling fire. Her head ached like an anvil was weighing on it, and her arms and legs felt like she hadn’t moved them in days. She slowly flexed her fingers, gathering dexterity in them as she repeated the motions.
She closed her eyes against the light, and considered what she knew. She was in a bed, not laying on the cold, hard ground. There was a fire but it was in a fireplace, not a campfire. There were dry blankets on her, not her damp from dew skirt she used as a cover the past few nights. Wherever she was, it wasn’t half bad. At least, that’s what she hoped.
She opened her eyes, and looked around the small portion of the room she could see. It was sparsely furnished; there were a few paintings on the walls, and a dresser with a pile of folded fabric on it. Was it blankets? Clothes? It was too hard to tell in the minimal light.
Head still pounding, she heard bustling beneath her. Based on the din of laughing voices and clinking ceramics, she guessed that she was in an inn. How did she get here? Was this the ever-after? She was supposed to be dead, drowned by that man who smelled like rust and old sweat. She decided she didn’t feel dead.
With teeth bared, she pushed herself up and swung her legs out of the bed. Her head screamed and her vision went dark for a moment as her body acclimated to being upright. There was something on her hand, what was it? It glittered and seemed to be made of rings and a bracelet. She was wearing a snug necklace as well, and a different shift? She was starting to heavily consider she may be dead after all.
(Her fingers are going through her skirt, they aren't short.)
In the deep corner of the room, where he may have been able to hide if the fire wasn’t as high as it was, sat a man. Gloria mentally went to reach for her fire abilities, but found she couldn’t find them. She couldn’t find anything. She couldn’t sense anything either, not the thoughts of the figure in the room, or how many people were below her, or even the coming weather patterns. What was wrong with her?
“Good-” the figure rubbed his face roughly, “-actually I’m not sure what time it is. It’s night of some sort. Nearly dawn.”
“You - I know you. I swear I know you. Where do I know you from?” Gloria wasn’t afraid of the strange man, and she was having a hard time figuring out why. She had been apprehensive of Rufus, Marco, and Angus and she had been able to sense them, and yet with this man she felt no fear. He was familiar....
“You know, to no one but you am I forgettable.” He stood up and moved the light chair closer to her, and further into the light, and Gloria remembered clearly where she had seen him. She had spent a bit more than three years trying to forget him, trying to avoid the dreams that Midshore had insisted were important.
She stared at his amber eyes. “I’m dead. I must be dead.” she murmured.
“You’re very much alive, thanks to me.” he claimed as he settled into his chair. “Imagine my disbelief when I see the girl from the swirling sky being thrown into a river, assumably accused of being a witch. That was tough to come to terms with quickly. So I have one question- no, actually, I have several, but the first one is why the heck are you real?” He wasn’t sure if he was feeling curious or hostile. He couldn’t separate the two; it was as if they were writhing in a massive ball in his chest. On one hand, he couldn’t believe that the answers he had always wanted were so close to being had, but also that she hadn’t arrived sooner to tell everyone that his dreams once a month weren’t his imagination. Where the heck had she been his whole life, now that he knew she was real?
“I was born, just like everyone else, so I’m not sure I understand your meaning.” Born like everyone else who is resurrected before they breathe, has a prophecy told the moment they’re born, and can use magic.
“I haven’t seen you in my dreams in years! Where have you been? Where did you come from? What are you doing here?” Seneca raised his voice as he spoke. His questions only lead to more questions, and he craved every answer.
“Seneca. Your name is Seneca.” she said simply with a smile on her face, as if remembering puppy fondly.
He slumped back in his chair. “You have no idea how insulting it is to have your name forgotten when I’ve literally had you in my dreams. Oh, and what the heck is your name?!” he had renewed vigor as he leaned in again.
“It’s a bit odd to ask someone their life story so bluntly. My name is Gloria Reed, I’m from the Western Islands, and I’m here with my beloved, Aubade. Or maybe he wants to go by Blake while he’s here. We hadn’t agreed, but he seemed pretty set on being called Blake…” She started to get side tracked. “We’re here to see his father who lives in the capitol before he dies. We met up with two other men who were there to accompany us to the capitol, and while we were camping for the night we were set upon by people in white armor. They captured the other people we were with, and one of the people in armor was a man with a horribly hooked nose. He was the one who threw me over the cliff because he thought I was a witch. He also said he knew my parents, which is hard to believe. I don’t know what to believe anymore…. Oh, Blake…” with the memory of what happened, she put her head in her hands.
“Blake? As in, the Blakes? The family of the Duchess of Malice? The main supporters of the king?” he pressed.
“I don’t know. I don’t know anything. I’m from the Islands, we don’t bother with the politics of the Mainland.”
“No, over in your blessed utopia with democracy and equality, I wouldn’t think you would,” he mocked the stressed syllables.
“What’s your problem? I don’t even know who you are. I never thought you’d be real. You were just the slightly aggressive boy from my dreams that I avoided for the last three years, and you seem to be even more aggressive in person. Now, if you would help me get back to my company, I need to be on my way and I need to help Bla-Aubade before he’s hurt.”
“Gloria, you’ve slept a night, a day, and another night. Whatever trail he may have left on the other side of the river is long cold, and we don’t want to interrupt the Templar anyhow. He deserves whatever is coming to him, believe me.” Seneca informed.
“What are you talking about? Aubade is a good man, he’s innocent of any crime they convict him of.” Gloria urged.
“Well, I highly doubt he’ll get a fair trial.” Seneca said casually. “Such a strong supporter of the king wouldn’t be allowed to live.”
“I need to save him!” Gloria stood on wobbly legs to move towards the door, but she saw again that she was wearing a new shift. “What am I wearing?” she exclaimed, frustrated with how little Seneca was helping her.
“Your clothes were ruined and you were in nothing but your shift when I dragged you out of the water. I bought some new clothes for you from the market and had the barmaid dress you.” Seneca explained. Gloria reached for her collar. “Oh, that. Witches aren’t normally killed outright, and we need a way to make sure they don’t escape. I was able to acquire the necessary trinkets to prevent you from doing whatever you-” he wiggled his hands and looked her over, “-do.”
Gloria looked at him and seethed. “You know, not to be rude, but is there anyone else that could look after me? I’m not enjoying your company as much as I thought I would.” she gave a fake smile.
Seneca leaned back in his chair. “Sorry, last I saw of Henry, his dinner was making a reappearance via his mouth. He’s been pale for a week, and I don’t want my prized prisoner catching whatever could do that to Perfect Henry. You’re stuck with me.” he tilted his head back and looked like he was going to take a nap.
“Prisoner?” Gloria squinted her eyes at Seneca. “Prisoner?” she went to try and take the rings off, but they wouldn’t extend long enough due to being connected to her bracelet. So she tried to take off the bracelet. “If I had my abilities, you’d see who was the prisoner!”
“You need two hands to get that bracelet off, don’t even try it.” he remarked. “We leave at dawn, I recommend you get some sleep. If we make good time, we’ll probably make it back home by evening.”
Gloria sneered at him, then plopped back down on the bed, angry.
~*~
Gloria looked at their traveling companion. He did look rather pale, and Gloria thought that he should be laying down, not trying to put one foot in front of the other. He had bags under his eyes, and he half-stumbled for much of the journey.
Gloria herself wasn’t in the best shape. Her legs still felt a bit limp as she wasn’t used to walking for days without a proper bed and meal, and based on how hungry she was that morning she doubted that Seneca had bothered to feed her.
She felt deaf to the world without being able to sense her surroundings. The path ahead was all she could see, she couldn’t try and feel the flora and fauna around her.
She got to thinking, why hadn’t she felt the templars approaching? If she remembered the conversation correctly, she was pretty occupied and unfocused, and it was always harder to sense things when her energy was pent up.
They had walked for a while, and apparently the silence was too much for Seneca. “Is there anyone who will come looking for you?” he asked.
“Besides Aubade, I doubt it. I told my parents on the Islands that I would be home in a year, though I’m not sure that’ll be true. I really hoped it would be.”
“So you have a family? Parents?” he asked.
“I do. I have a mother and father, and a Godfather. I have a little brother, twin little sisters, two aunts, three uncles, two grandparents, and a slew of cousins I can hardly keep track of.” she remarked. “What about you?”
Seneca exhaled as if he were too important to say, but he complied with her question. “I have no siblings, but I have a strong heritage.”
“You can tell her, you know. No use keeping it a secret, she’s going to find out soon anyway.” Henry added.
“But if she’s allied with their side, she shouldn’t know. I’m only a rumor. If she tells them I’m real then they’ll spring on us before we’re ready.” Seneca said cryptically.
“She’s not going to get away.” Henry assured.
“Fine.” Seneca rolled his eyes. “Gloria Reed, you have the privilege of talking to the future king of the Mainland, son of the only legitimate queen.” he said hautly.
Gloria’s eyebrows knit together. “I have no idea what any of that means.”
Seneca rolled his eyes again at Henry.
“Nice delivery.” Henry complimented.
They turned inland towards the treeline. “How can you ‘Have no idea what any of that means’? Were you born yesterday?” Seneca asked.
“How many times do I have to tell you, I’m from the Islands!” Gloria exclaimed.
“Forgive me, but no one ever returns from the Islands. They’re a myth, meant to give people hope for something that doesn’t exist.”
They arrived in a clearing with a cobbled together house. Seneca froze up like a rabbit sensing danger, then ran to the house and threw open the door.
Gloria was confused.
“It’s Lady Krista’s carriage. His fiance. We were out looking for her when we found you.” Henry explained. “He didn’t want to stop looking for her, but we didn’t have much of a choice. We had to get you into custody as soon as we could. And I don’t think I could handle another day in my condition.” is voice was beautiful, with warm tones and a smile. He was downright charming, and Gloria could see why he was called Perfect Henry.
He waved his arm towards the door, and she walked to the door obediently. She should have run. He wouldn’t have been able to catch her, he could hardly catch his breath.
They entered the house and Gloria saw Seneca drawing away from a nicely dressed young blonde woman as if he had just embraced her. He had a bit of a flush in his cheeks, and she wondered how much he kept hidden under his cool exterior.
“When did you get in? We went out looking for you.” asked Seneca.
“I arrived yesterday afternoon. I’m sorry I was late, but you should stay where it’s safe. What if you were killed?” Krista asked in a professional tone.
“I was more worried about you than myself.” he said, then turned to include the other woman who was standing in the room, oddly out of place in her regal clothing, as if it were from a bygone day and had been stashed away. “Mother, Krista, I have brought you the beloved of the son of Lady Malice. Gloria Reed.” he presented.
“But the Duchess’s son has been abroad on an assignment for over three years, how is she his beloved?” Krista asked. She stepped closer to Gloria to get a better look at her.
“Apparently they arrived not long ago to see his father. She says she’s been on the Islands.” Seneca filled in.
Krista’s eyes lit up. “You’re the heir.” she breathed. “You’re the child of the king. The baby he lost. Of the queen who died at the hand of terrorists. You’re his missing piece.”
“What are you talking about?” Gloria asked. “What are you all talking about?” she took a seat.
“I've seen the wedding portrait hanging in the main hall of the Palace. The wedding of King Galant and Anwyn Cupshire. You look just like her.” Krista claimed.
(Ignore Gloria in this picture, I love how Krista is looking at the woman)
The woman drew closer to get a good look at Gloria. She looked for a moment and Gloria stood there awkwardly. “It has been many years since I met her, but I do recognize her daughter. But you have the look of not the king, but of the guard. You’re Queen Anwyn’s daughter, but not the king’s.” she said. “You are not the heir to the throne. The only heir to the throne is my own, and he will rule this kingdom.” said the woman. “For I am the rightful queen.”
Gah! Did any of you see that coming? I've kept that hidden for so long, I wanted to tell you guys so much but I couldn't because it would ruin the surprise! Now that that reveal is out of the way, I have to some up with the next big plot line. It's going to be good, I just have to mold it. But you guys know how that goes already.
Thanks for reading, and please please please post your comments and thoughts, and possibly things that you'd like to see done from this point on. I'm at a bit of a junction right now, I'm able to take things into the plot and shift things. So if you have any ideas, now would be the time for them!
I also had to go back to the first chapters for a refresher, and I completely forgot Anwyn had those random elf ears.
Race Against the Clock: Can your elder sim turn back the clock before their time runs out?
"You don’t need to see the child if you don’t want to. Send it to the western islands if that pleases you. But you need to have an heir, no matter what you do with it once it arrives.”
This was before Anwyn was married to the King and before the idea of escaping to the islands was even considered. That bit about the western islands was an interesting call forward
Race Against the Clock: Can your elder sim turn back the clock before their time runs out?
Even that was a call forward for you.
I was about to mention that I looked back and Anwyn lost her elf ears in Chapter 13. Nobody noticed and it wasn't acknowledged within the story's universe. I think readers forgot she had them (I did.) A lot was happening in that chapter, so I suppose her ears weren't high on the list.
Race Against the Clock: Can your elder sim turn back the clock before their time runs out?
I never thought it could have been the former queen since I figured she was killed or something. Idk how I forgot all about her lol. Also I thought she was unable to get pregnant!? So many questions! I can't wait to learn how she was able to keep Seneca a secret.
Such a great surprise though! I hope Seneca and his mom can catch Gloria up to speed about everything and Gloria can finally realize that Aubade/Blake is up to no good. While I was hopeful to learn more about Seneca I do realize that there is still time for that and finally learning the identity of his mother was worth it.
These chapters are always so captivating and leave me wanting more. I can't wait to see what happens next. I'm sure that whatever direction you take the story in, it will be a great one.
Chapter 45
This chapter includes violence and stressful situations. If you are triggered by harm, you have been warned.
Lily hadn’t been to visit the Reeds in years, though Romeo made the trip about once a year. Her boys had never met their children, and she was wondering where she was going to fit three more children in their small house.
“You’re sure you don’t want to move into their house for awhile? It has more space.” Romeo asked her again. They had talked about this before. Only two hours before, honestly.
“I’m sure. I’ve never met the kids though, I hope they’ll get along with the boys.” she said tentatively. She wasn’t used to being tentative. She was used to being brave and direct.
“It’ll be fine. Robin is about the same age as our own, just a hair older, and the two girls are dolls apparently. They’ll love you.” Romeo said, not looking her in the eye.
He was hiding something. It had been a while since she had to be sharp with her observation skills, but she could tell when her husband was hiding something. “What are you not telling me?” she asked pointedly.
He fumbled with the pack on the bed. It held old clothes, ones from the Mainland. His style hadn’t changed much when he got here, so a lot of the clothes he had were patched or replaced over the years, but they were still unmistakable.
“I- I’m-” his eyes glistened with tears he rarely showed, and his voice . “She’s my god daughter, Lily.”
A look of disbelief popped onto her face. He continued, “It’s like she were my own child. I was there when she was born, I held her when she wailed as an infant. I taught her to walk! When I got here and Anwyn was dead and I had failed my best friend, and then to have them both brought back to life, I clung to them when I had nothing else. I can’t let her suffer the fate that the king would have her live.”
Lily fummed for a moment, waiting for him to finish. Once he had, he could tell she was beyond angry. “Don’t you think I would want to help Anwyn and Liam if I could? You forget, I have known Liam for years. Year before the Cupshires made their escape, I traveled with him for two years afterwards once he was free of the king. I would give him so much for him to be happy, to support him, but we have our own family! You think you’re going to leave me here by myself with five children to look after!? And you didn’t fly this past me first?”
“Lily, I’m not going to change my mind. I cannot stay here and let the world try and fix this problem; I have to help.” he said simply, forcing himself to look her in the eye.
“You’re choosing their family over your own!” she hollered. “You could die and our sons would have no father. If you die alongside Anwyn and Liam, which, may I remind you, is a strong probability, there are no backup plans. Anwyn may have been brought back from the dead, but without the spirits and Midshore you’ll be dead and there will be no coming back! Romeo, can’t you see that this is foolish! You’re needed here.” she urged.
He turned his head, once again unable to look at her. He took a breath. “Know that I don't make this choice lightly, Lily. I know it took so long for us to have a family, to be truly happy, but you also know that I can’t sit by when action is needed.” he moved towards her, around the bed, but she shifted away from her.
“Please, I don’t want to leave when you’re angry with me.” he pleaded with her.
“Then don’t leave.” she parried.
He lifted the pack from the bed and put it next to the door. “I have to.” He exited the room, hardly holding himself together. While it was hard to say goodbye to Lily, he knew she had a heart of iron. She would make it through ok, but his boys were something else.
They were building a toy set in the main room of the house. Romeo stood in the distance for a moment, trying to sear the sight of the two of them into his mind. He didn’t know when he would see them again. His return wasn’t guaranteed, and it hurt so much to think of never seeing his sons again. Just as he had held Gloria after she was born, he had held his two boys. He had cleaned them after they played in the mud, taught them to use a spoon on their own, how to read. What if he wasn’t here to teach them to shave? Or how to woo women? Or see his grandchildren? He felt his nose 🐸🐸🐸🐸 as his eyes produced tears.
Harrison looked up at his father, concern on his face. “Papa, what’s the matter? Your face is funny.”
His brother Christopher looked up as well, equally confused.
“This is what my face looks like when I’m sad,” Romeo tried to smile, tried to not start crying like a child. “You boys heard that your cousins are coming to stay for a while while Aunt Anwyn and Uncle Liam leave to go to the mainland for a while, right? You had both better be on your best behavior, or when I get back I’m going to ground you for a year, you hear?” he sniffled.
“You’re leaving?” Christopher asked. “Why are you leaving? When will you be back?” he was starting to be alarmed.
“Your cousin Gloria has gone where she should not have gone with people she should not have gone with. Your Aunt, Uncle, and I are going to get her back before anything bad happens.”He stroked his son’s hair. “I will be back just as soon as I can and not a moment later. I will think of you every hour of every day.”
There was a knock on the door. The door opened and Liam peaked his head in. Lana, Skye, and Robin came in the door, sleepy. Anwyn and Liam pulled in some of their items, and Midshore stood outside the door, not coming in.
Romeo turned back to his boys. “I need you to help your mother. This is going to be very hard on her. Promise me that you’ll be good to her and your cousins.”
“I promise,” Harrison said with big eyes. His brother did the same.
“Very good. I love you. Always know that I love you.”
~*~
She was sat on a hard chair in a damp room. The walls were cobbled stone, the floor was rough stone, and the table gave her slivers just by looking at it. This room was obviously not made for comfort.
Seneca followed his mother and Krista into the room.
“Ms. Reed, you tell an interesting tale. You say you’re from the Western Islands, but as we all know their proof of existence is on the same level as, say, the after life. It’s nice to think about, but it’s far from proven.” the queen addressed. She shifted her stance. “By your own admission, you spent years with Lucian Blake, were very close to him, and yet you also say that you know nothing of any plans the king may have? I find that hard to believe.
“Tell us what you know, and this will be a better experience for us both.” she leaned forward on the table.
Seneca saw Gloria shift. “I don’t know anything. I don’t know who the king is, who you are, or what the king plans for me.”
“How many troops does he have?!” the queen hit her hand on the table. “How much does he know about us? Where are his safe houses?!”
Gloria flinched at the burst of anger. “I swear, I don’t know.”
“As much as I’ve been able to collect, there are things that only his closest supporters know. You were aligned with one of his closest supporters, practically his step son, and you expect us to believe that you know nothing?”
“I’ve never lied to you. If I had known anything about what you have here, or wanted to know more, I wouldn’t have been avoiding dreaming of Seneca all these years, would I? I would have been trying to gather information.” Gloria pleaded
“That’s Prince Seneca to you,” Krista corrected snidely. “I don’t know what sort of powers you have, but you won’t be gathering any more information.”
The queen smoothed her skirt. “I see,” she said 🐸🐸🐸🐸. She turned her back and knocked on the door, letting in Barnabus. Compared to most men, he was massively broad and intimidating.
Gloria shifted further into her chair and bit her lip. “You think you can scare me into telling you information that I don’t possess?” she asked. “As much as you try to frighten me, I can’t tell you what you want to hear.”
“He’s not just for show, darling.” the queen said calmly. “I give you one more chance to confess before this turns ugly.”
Gloria’s mouth became a thin line and her eyes went wide. Seneca could feel her shaking though he wasn’t touching her. She shook like a leaf on a branch in a stiff autumn wind, but she didn’t speak.
His mother signaled and Barnabus lashed out, striking Gloria in the face. She cried out, and Seneca flinched. He gritted his teeth.
Gloria turned her head to face his mother, Krista, and Barnabus again, anger on her face. “If I could use my powers, you would be cinder on the floor.” she threatened.
Barnabus lashed out again, and Seneca flinched once more. He made his way to the door and let himself out into the hallway. He tried to even his breath, and the pain he had felt radiating from Gloria diminished by a few degrees.
He heard a sudden noise from in the room and he winced. Another noise came, this one of a shifting table. He winced again.
He knew the noises too well. He had been on the business end of Barnabus enough times to know the score of sounds that came from a beating, and he knew the pain that came along with it, and he knew the fear that was married to it all.
He paced the hallway, wanting to leave the area and have nothing to do with the interrogation, but it would be seen as cowardly. If he was going to be king, he had to be able to stomach an interrogation, gruesome and it may become.
Krista exited the room and brushed off her skirt which wasn’t wrinkled. Seneca walked over to her and leaned against the wall, then quickly stood back up straight. It felt like the wall had bit him, and he looked at it in confusion.
“It should be done soon. She seems to really know nothing about any of it. Too bad, we could have really used more information.” she said. She seemed unbothered.
Seneca heard the raised voice of Barnabus and bristled. “Doesn’t it bother you?” he asked.
“What bothers me?”
“The violence. She said she didn’t know anything, and yet we beat her.” he averted his eyes. “It’s- wrong.”
She looked at him with mild annoyance. “If we believed everyone who said that they didn’t know anything, we wouldn’t know anything. People lie. They do know things that they aren’t willing to tell us without a bit of pressure. The harder we interrogate, the faster we know what they know. It gets results and it shows our foes that we aren’t to be taken lightly.”
“But she’s on no one’s side!” he objected. “She came from the islands. Have you ever heard her accent before? It’s different than any accent I’ve ever heard. She didn’t know who the king was, who we were, heck who the Church was! And we hurt her in exchange?”
The annoyance turned to scepticism. “Are you sure that she didn’t bewitch you before you equipped her? You can’t sympathize with the other side. Not only is she a witch, she’s the king’s sought after heir, and anything that aids the king will cripple us.”
His mother and Barnabus exited the room. They closed the door behind them, not bothering to lock it.
“She’s useless. A pretty face, that’s all. The daughter of Anwyn, yes, but she knows nothing of the king’s plans.” his mother said as she walked away. “I need to write some letters and let our supporters know of the events that have transpired.”
“I’ll join you. I should tell my contacts in the capitol as well. Our plans may have to be accelerated.” Krista added.
Barnabus shadowed the queen and the three of them filed down the hallway. Seneca felt his heart shrink, as he watched them walk away so cavalierly. He looked at the room they had left behind them. He touched the door. It felt like he was touching a candle, painful and sudden. He looked through a crack in the door and saw Gloria curled in a ball on the floor, weeping.
I did this to her. he thought. I brought her here, I’m the reason she is in this mess. All because I wanted to show them that I could be worth something, to earn their praise.
He braced himself and opened the door. How the other three of them had been able to stand being in the same room with her he couldn’t fathom. He felt anger and grief gushing from Gloria like waves of knives. He fought the urge to turn around and forget it all and approached her.
He touched her shoulder, and she flinched away from him like a wounded animal. He saw her face and his stomach turned at the sight of blood. He never could stand the sight of injury, much less the sight of blood.
“If I had my power, this place wouldn’t be standing. You’d all be raised to the ground.” she quietly gurgled. “I hate you all…”
“I’m- I’m so sorry.” he felt the words slip from his lips. He had never said them in honesty before, nor had he meant them so deeply. In the past, he had always said sorry to get himself out of trouble, but he hadn’t truly been apologetic. But now, feeling the pain from Gloria, the betrayal he had sewed in her, the pain his actions had led to, but didn’t feel anything but sorry.
She looked at him, scorn in her eyes. She was judging him, and he felt that he would be worthy of any verdict. “I believe you.” she said through gritted teeth. Her eyes were streaming tears, and her hair had fallen out of its binding.
“Let me take you upstairs. We’ll get you cleaned up, take care of your cuts so they don’t scar as much.” Seneca eased.
Gloria didn’t move. “What’s the point?” her voice was flat.
“The point is to not let them get you down. Don’t let them see that they control you.” he assured.
“But they do. You do.”
It felt like she had stabbed him. “I can’t change what has happened.” he said with firm gentility. He didn’t say anything else. He couldn’t promise anything else. He couldn’t say he could help her, for if he freed her it would be treason.
Besides breathing, she still didn’t move. She just laid her head back against the wall and said nothing.
Seneca carefully slid his arms under her shoulders and knees, careful to be gentle, and he lifted her from the floor. He walked out of the room and went up the stairs to his room. He had modified his room recently to have a bit more space.
He sat her down on the end of the bed and retrieved the water pitcher. It was cold from sitting near the window and not having a fire burning in his room. The light in the room wasn't enough to see by, so he stood and started to light the candles around the room.
His skin 🐸🐸🐸🐸 when she spoke. “Why do they hate me?” she croaked.
He took a deep breath, exhaling through his nostrils. “You may as well know. You’ve already paid for knowledge you don’t have, so it seems only fair that you know what everyone else does.”
He finished lighting the candle and he sat down next to her. “20 years ago, my mother discovered she was expecting a child. It should have been happy news, the monarchy would have an heir. But it was already rumored that she couldn’t bear children anymore, and any child born would be thought to be illegitimate and from another woman, claimed to be hers.
“The signs of her being removed from the throne were all there. The king took several mistresses, never settling on one for too long before moving to another. No one would have believed that my mother and the king had shared a bed in well over a year, though as it’s told-” his cheeks went a shade of pink and he cleared his throat, “they had times of passion on very rare occasions.
“Still, when the king met Queen Anwyn, she knew that he had found the one to replace her. It was early in my mother’s pregnancy so no one knew. Everyone thought she was barren so no one was looking for the signs.
“After some time, the king arranged with the Church to annul his marriage to my mother, and he married Queen Anwyn instead. What he didn’t know was that my mother had told the cook to charm his food so that he could not sire any children. That way her child would be the rightful heir without having to worry another child would be considered for the monarchy over her own.”
He looked up at the wall ahead of him. He had always been terrible at eye contact when being serious. He had once stared into Gloria’s eyes to make her see him, but now that he knew she was mortal and as flesh and blood as he was, it was hard to look at her for long periods of time.
“And so,” he continued, “my mother was removed. She was taken from the palace in a carriage, driven to the border, and dumped. The people seemed pleased with the new queen. She was young, plain but slightly beautiful, and most importantly the probability of bearing a child was higher.”
He stretched his legs. “The story the king likes to tell is that he and Queen Anwyn were madly in love and discovered they were expecting a child on their journey to the northern border. There was a dispute with the native people who lived there, and they were going to rally the troops. The pair was thrilled and they were hoping for a girl, odd as that is. On their journey, they were set upon by a mixture of bandits, terrorists, and knights from their own guard and the queen was kidnaped. They took her with them on boats and sailed into the horizon. It was later said that she had been shot on the shore, but they didn’t know if she was dead or if she had lived. They questioned the head terrorist for months about the whereabouts of the queen and where they had taken her, but he didn’t talk. He eventually escaped and though they hunted him for years they were unable to find him. So the king sent out scouts to every nation, every town, insearch of his missing wife and child.
“You are that child.”
You know how I always say I won't post chapters at 11:30 at night? Well, It's 11:30. Where did the day go?!
I love Seneca's expressive face. I can't get enough of it. It's so easy to get him to make the face I want, and the poor guy wears his feelings on his sleeve constantly!
Welcome, @Kamio, it's a pleasure to have you as a reader!
As always, please share any ideas, comments. or feel free to private message me plot ideas or wishes. I know I keep the plot of the story pretty close to my chest so it's hard to make requests, but if any of you feel inspired, I'll consider just about anything.
Race Against the Clock: Can your elder sim turn back the clock before their time runs out?
I can only imagine all the things going on inside Gloria's head after experiencing that and then being told about her parents and that wild tale.
I have a feeling that if the king were to know that "his child" was alive then he would have a hard time accepting the truth that she isn't actually his.
I'm glad that the queen was able to come up with that plan and truly deceive everyone. Its amazing she has been able to keep Seneca a secret.
Lily's reaction is definitely justified. I wish her the best taking care of all the kids. I hope their boys will do as their dad wished and help as much as they can.
I truly hope Romeo, Anwyn and Liam are about to return home safely with Gloria.
This story seriously keeps getting better and better.
I need to sort through all the plot ideas that are coming up. There are so many moving parts that it's hard to iron out! I was explaining to a friend of mine the general plot and ideas about where I want it to kind of go after this, and we talked for three hours or more. I was borderline hoarse afterwards. He gave me some insight, but I feel like his story preferences are a bit different than mine. More death and passion than plotting and secrecy.
Race Against the Clock: Can your elder sim turn back the clock before their time runs out?
Guys, and gals, I need some inspiration. I have a cloud of ideas to go with, but I'm feeling stuck and uninspired. I've run out of songs to draw from at the moment, so that regular source of inspiration isn't helping. I've tried asking my friends what they think, but nothing seems to fit.
So please, either post here or private message me things that either tickle your inspiration, or ideas for the story that you think could be interesting. Otherwise I have to write stuff that I'm not that interested in. And as the people who know my story the best besides myself, I'm hoping you can help me out.
And we can all pray that I become inspired again.
(Not to worry about me keeping up with this, I'm not dropping it now