Exile

Chapter III

THE CHALLENGE

As the seasons shifted and the wheel of time turned ever onward, the day arrived when Alicent's eldest son, Edward, came of age. Once again, King George and Queen Alicent made the journey to the kingdom of King Leopold, this time to solidify the bond between their houses by allowing Snow and Edward to meet. Edward, now a strapping youth of seventeen summers, bore his mother's dark auburn locks, while his eyes, bright and verdant, gleamed with the untamed energy of youth. He carried himself with the confidence of his station, yet to Snow, he was no more than a boy—barely more than a child compared to her, and more than a decade her junior.

Snow, graceful and poised, stood resolute in her duty, though within her heart there stirred no affection for the young prince. His youth rendered him almost invisible to her, for her thoughts were far removed from the notion of binding herself to such an ill-suited match. Yet, bound by the chains of duty and her father's will, she dared not give voice to her reluctance. To speak against her father's desire would be seen as a rebellion against the crown itself.

Regina, ever watchful, observed the unfolding scene from a distance. A mix of emotions flickered behind her eyes—satisfaction, that Snow had not fallen into the arms of a man she could not love, and a spec of sympathy for the girl's predicament. The looming specter of a loveless marriage cast a pall over the encounter, like a shadow that dimmed the brightness of Snow's future. Regina knew too well the suffocating weight of such obligations, and the memory of her own struggles stirred within her.

Alicent, ever composed, caught the brief hesitation in Snow's demeanor but dismissed it with a wave of indifference. Her mind was set on the alliance, and she had little care for Snow's sentiments. Alicent's own triumph lay elsewhere; her once-flat belly now curved with the unmistakable swell of new life, a symbol of her fecundity and her husband's favor. The sight of her rounded form filled her with pride, her hand resting idly upon her growing womb, a silent declaration of her worth as queen and mother.

To Regina, the sight was a bitter knife twisted in her side. Alicent's swollen belly was not just a display of her sister's fertility, but a cruel reminder of her own failure. The ache of her barrenness festered, gnawing at her soul, a wound that no time nor comfort could heal. As she stood beside her stepdaughter and her sister, Regina's heart tightened, the unfulfilled yearning for a child of her own weighing heavily upon her like an invisible shackle she could never remove.

For many long and agonizing months, Regina had fulfilled her role as a dutiful wife and queen to King Leopold. Night after night, she shared his bed, submitting herself to the weight of her obligations, yet still, her womb remained a barren and silent vessel. The torment gnawed at her relentlessly, and the sight of her sister, Alicent, with her ever-growing belly, only served to deepen the wound festering within her. Each passing day was a bitter reminder of her failure, of the child she could not give to her king, and of the ever-widening gulf between herself and the fulfillment of her royal duty.

Edward, the young prince, lingered dutifully beside his father, his bright green eyes occasionally drifting toward Snow. She was undeniably beautiful, her elegance and grace befitting her station, but in his heart, he harbored no desire to wed her. She was nearly two decades his senior, a fact that sat like a stone upon his chest. He did not yearn for her as his queen; his heart sought a much younger bride, one whose age would better suit his own. Yet, as much as the thought of this union displeased him, Edward knew he could not voice his objections. The match was a strategic one, and as the second son of a king, he had no throne of his own to claim.

The prospect of this union weighed heavily upon him, for it was not born of love, but of ambition. His mother, Alicent, had already whispered her counsel into his ear, urging him to see the opportunity that lay before him. Snow, as King Leopold's only heir, was poised to inherit her father's throne one day, and Alicent had not hesitated to advise her son to seize that moment when it came. She had instructed him to undermine Snow's rule, to turn her into a broodmare, to make her his queen in name only, and to wrest the power of the kingdom from her delicate hands. "Exile her to your royal bed as often as is necessary," she had told him, her voice cold and calculating. "Keep her away from the throne, your throne,"