Chapter 127

FELIX

Upon arriving back at the castle, I knew what my first stop had to be. As much as I was dreading it, it was time for the difficult conversation.

Sure enough, my parents and Esmeralda were gathered in their private living space, grave expressions on their faces as they talked in hushed tones, presumably about the riots.

“Felix” My father crowed as I walked into the room. “Good to see you! Now we’ve had some ideas about what’s going on in Barlow, and I have a few ideas–”

“I don’t care about any of that right now,” I snapped. “We need to have a serious talk about Mila.”

My mother looked uneasy. “Haven’t we talked enough about her? What happened was tragic, I agree, but it’s not good to keep dwelling on the past. Fresonia is in a boatload of other trouble right now–”

“And did you stop to think for one moment that our problems with magic started the second Mila died?” I pointed out.

That caused the blood to drain from Esmeralda’s face. The witch looked at me, a slow realization slowly lighting in her eyes.

“The magic… it is entwined with her very existence,” Esmeralda whispered. “How could I have not seen it before?”

My parents peered at Esmeralda curiously.

“What do you mean, entwined?” My father asked.

“Somehow, Mila seems to be tied to the health and strength of magic in Fresonia,” I said, “although I’m not quite sure how or why. But her death sent shockwaves throughout the entire kingdom. The land is dying, and so are–”

“The dragons,” my father finished grimly. “That’s why the dragons are so sick.”

My mother shot to her feet. “The dragons are sick? Why didn’t anyone tell me?”

My father placed an arm around her shoulders. “I didn’t want to needlessly worry you, dear.”

Watching them hit me like a freight train. This was exactly what Mila was afraid of, of not being treated like a partner, of being coddled and kept out of the loop because she couldn’t be trusted with big decisions, all in the guise of being protected.

I loved Mila. I loved her more than anything else in the world and needed her like the air I breathed. But I had not respected her, not fully, not in the ways she wanted. She wanted to be her own person who enriched my life, not just an accessory to the crown.

I had not respected her when I shut her out of conversations about my illness. I had not respected her when I held war councils without her. I had not respected her when I did not let her into my life and did not let her lead and lied to her over and over and over again.

My father had done the same thing to my mother. She was a descendant of one of the finest noble families in Fresonia, her line dating back to before the kingdom’s existence. She was a brilliant woman with innovative policy ideas that could help the entire kingdom.

But my father had reduced her, and I had reduced her, until all she had were her sons.

And then one of them was lost to her forever.

I had to be the one to change things. Maybe that was why Mila was truly meant for me all along–she was capable of changing Fresonia’s royal culture, of being her own person while also loving and supporting me unconditionally.

“Perhaps we should have thought things through more before sacrificing her,” my mother said nervously. She was wringing her hands, keeping her eyes downcast. She refused to look at me or my father.

My father scoffed. “We did the best we could with the information we had at the time. How were we to know that Mila was somehow magically connected to Fresonia and the dragons?”

“Mila should have been spared not just because she was useful magically,” I said, “but because she was a whole person, too. You all just decided that her life did not mean as much as mine but that doesn’t make it true.”

My parents at least had the decency to look ashamed.

“I did not want to lose another child,” my mother finally whispered. “I am so sorry, Felix. I was blinded by my grief.”

My father shot her a dubious look, but my mother continued. “We cared for Mila very much, although I realize that our actions don’t exactly show that. But she was very special to us and I’m sorry that it all came to this.”

I nodded at her, appreciating her words. “Thank you, Mother.”

“You are the King,” my father interjected. “It is not unreasonable to ask others to sacrifice so that you can remain on the throne.”

“And Mila was the Queen,” I reminded him. “It is only through compassion that you are not in the dungeons with Charles right now for committing treason.”

Esmeralda was muttering to herself, clearly still stuck on the fact that Mila was somehow tied to Fresonia’s magic.

“I wondered for many months if Mila had somehow been born in Fresonia,” Esmeralda said aloud. “My magic could sense something in her. But now I think I may have been sensing whatever it was that connected her to the land itself.”

“There’s no way of knowing,” my father said.

I shook my head. “There is, as morbid as it might be.”

They all looked at me.

“Her body was preserved after the poisoning,” I said, ignoring the way that sentence made my heart squeeze. “I can only assume there are still answers there.”

Esmeralda’s face lit up. “Of course! We can check the body. It is still in my chambers.”

As much as I hated the thought, I knew that this was the only real way to determine what the truth about Mila was.

“Then show us the way,” I said to Esmeralda, gesturing to the door.

I had only been in the witch’s chambers a few times. Normally, there was always some sort of strange smoke coming out from under the door, and incantations that nobody understood were always coming from her tower.

Today, though, the corridors around her door were clear, and the halls were silent.

Emeralda whispered a quick spell to the heavy wooden door, and it swung open. I should have guessed that it would be magically locked.

Her rooms were fairly bright, letting in lots of natural light from windows that faced all four directions: north, south, east, west. Secretly, I envied her view. It was easily the best in the castle. You could see the miles of Fresonia stretching out and away from the capital, and the dark smudge of the mountains in the distance.

Esmeralda hurried over to a corner of her chambers, where a raised dais was covered by a red velvet cloth.

“I preserved her body,” she intoned, “so that she would be in the exact shape she was in when she died. I understand that this may be startling to you.”

With a grand flourish, she pulled back the cloth.

My jaw dropped, as did my parents’.

The dais was empty. Only the chains she had been bound in when she died remained.

Mila’s body was nowhere to be found.