The masked queen

CHAPTER 5

Chapter 5: To Forsake a Deity

To forsake a deity-was there anything more dangerous? Anything more costly? Roman had pondered this as he considered the magnitude of defying a god. It felt akin to the power structures he'd known all too well during his time as a prisoner, where those above him wielded absolute power, free to punish without reason. Perhaps the gods viewed mortals in the same way, with a detachment and indifference that allowed for punishments more severe than human minds could conceive.

Roman stood silent, his hidden gaze softening as he listened to the queen speak. Her voice held a weight he hadn't expected. The name Dairius rang faintly familiar. He realized it must be the name of their late king. In the world he knew, nobility was rarely known by their first names; they were always distant, defined by titles and grand surnames that separated them from the common folk, whose last names marked their trade and family history. He and his family had been named Millers, just as the Smiths had been blacksmiths, and the Taylors had been tailors, each surname marking the place of their labor.

"I..." Roman began, his words halting and heavy, struggling to take form. "I often wonder if... if I hadn't married my wife, she'd still be alive. By loving her, I doomed her." He took a breath, his chest rising and falling with a sigh that seemed to release years of pent-up sorrow. "But I can't regret it... because I know she wouldn't have regretted loving me. Not even as it all happened."

He swallowed hard, the lump in his throat nearly painful. He could feel the queen's eyes on him, but he looked away, afraid of what he might see reflected back-a mirror to his own guilt, his own failures. Yet, as he averted his gaze, a surprising sense of relief washed over him. In some odd way, sharing his grief with her felt strangely comforting.

"I think His Majesty must have felt the same way," he murmured, almost to himself. "For what it's worth, I don't blame you for the attacks. It wasn't you that summoned the demons; it was a goddess. Whatever vow you made... it must have been worth it if it involved falling in love."

The queen remained quiet for a moment, gripping the edge of her chair as she composed herself. Then, in a voice layered with years of regret, she began to speak. "I made a vow to the goddess-a simple vow, really. I swore never to fall in love....with a commoner and godless man...At the time, it seemed like the right choice. I thought I could remain detached, rational, as a queen should be."

She traced the design of her mask, the repetitive motion calming her. "Then I met Dairius. All my carefully laid plans, my rational thoughts, faded away in an instant. I knew the risks, and I thought our love could withstand even the wrath of a goddess. But I was naïve." Her voice softened, the pain evident in her words. "When the attacks began, I knew they were the goddess's punishment for breaking my vow. But the joy I shared with Dairius made it impossible to regret my choice, even as my kingdom began to suffer."

Her voice grew more fragile, like a thin thread stretched too tight. "After he died, everything lost its meaning. My happiness was replaced by an emptiness I couldn't fill. I threw myself into my duties, hoping they would distract me, but it was all a mask, an illusion. I could feel the goddess's judgment, her disdain, bearing down on me. I knew that no amount of duty could erase the emptiness I felt, not while the vow remained broken."

Roman listened to her, captivated by the similarities in their stories. They were both marked by choices that had led to pain, each haunted by decisions they could never undo. He looked up, seeing her for the first time with a clarity that reached beyond the mask she wore. Her subtle movements, the way her fingers lingered on the mask, reflected a sorrow that felt deeply familiar. In that moment, he recognized a kindred spirit in her.

"Your Majesty, I... I understand," he said, his voice uncertain. "I know that emptiness. You do everything you think they would have wanted. You tell yourself it's all for them, even when they're gone."