Bloodline of cursed thrones

CH 4

The crisp air of the hunting grounds whispered through the trees, carrying the scent of pine and damp earth. Eveline walked with measured steps beside Duke Alistair Mornay, careful not to betray her unease. She glanced sideways at the duke, his broad frame cutting an imposing figure against the backdrop of the forest. He was every bit the war hero she had expected—calm, calculated, and unyielding.

Yet, even now, she could feel the distance between them, both physical and metaphorical. He hadn't been at the council meeting. His absence was a deliberate act of defiance, a sign that he did not pledge loyalty to the crown—at least, not to the woman he thought she was. But Eveline was no longer the queen he once opposed. The real queen was dead, and in her place stood a woman desperate to survive, one who needed allies like him.

For now, she had to play the part.

"You must be proud," Eveline began, breaking the silence that had stretched too long. "Your victory in the East has ensured peace for the kingdom, at least for the time being."

Alistair's jaw clenched, and his gaze remained fixed ahead. "The soldiers deserve the praise. They fought with honor and strength. I simply led them."

He was careful with his words, offering nothing more than the duty demanded. Eveline couldn't afford to push too hard, not yet. She needed to earn his trust, little by little.

"And lead them well you did," she said, a hint of admiration in her voice. "But you and I both know that strength of arms alone won't hold this kingdom together. War is only one part of the battle. The Church grows bolder by the day, challenging the authority of the crown."

She felt his eyes flicker toward her, though only briefly. Alistair's silence was heavy, but it was not disinterest. He was listening, weighing her words.

"They overstep," he said finally, his tone guarded. "But they have the faith of the people. That is not something won with swords."

Eveline's lips curved slightly. He was wary, but he was engaging, and that was more than she had hoped for. "Faith can be dangerous in the wrong hands. And power built on faith alone is fragile. What the kingdom needs now is stability—a balance between the old traditions and the new forces rising to challenge us."

Alistair glanced at her, the first real hint of curiosity breaking through his stoic demeanor. "And you believe the crown can offer that balance?"

"I believe," she said, her voice soft yet firm, "that the kingdom cannot survive without the loyalty of its commanders. You and I both know the strength of the military is the backbone of this realm. I value loyalty, Duke Mornay. Perhaps there's a way to ensure that loyalty is rewarded."

His expression didn't shift, but Eveline could feel the gears turning in his mind. He was far from convinced, but at least he was listening. She wasn't asking for his allegiance outright—that would come later, in time. For now, she needed to plant the seed, to make him see that she was not the queen he remembered, nor the one he distrusted.

But even as she spoke, doubt clawed at the edges of her thoughts. Can I truly play this game? Can I make him believe in me, when I hardly know who I am myself? The memory of the demon's cold hands against her skin still haunted her. That creature had treated her like a toy, reminding her how fragile she truly was. And yet, she couldn't afford fragility now.

She inhaled slowly, steeling herself. "I understand that trust must be earned, and I have no illusions about the challenges that lie ahead. But if there's one thing I've learned, it's that strength is not just in armies or swords. True strength is in knowing which alliances to forge and which enemies to crush."

Alistair stopped walking, turning to face her fully now. His sharp, piercing gaze bore into hers, as if searching for the cracks beneath her carefully crafted facade.