The Princess and The Criminal [ CAITVI ]

1 | Shards and Promises

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Author: Hello readers! This story is actually an older piece I started a while back but never got around to finishing. In honor of Arcane Season 2, I figured it was the perfect time to revisit and give it a revamp! I'm excited to finally finish the story and share it with you all. Hope you enjoy! 🫶

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"Mother! Please! Please don't do this!"

The child's desperate cries echoed down the hallway, piercing the queen's heart, leaving only a deep, gnawing ache where once there had been certainty.

Despite the weight of her own agony, the queen forced herself to move, her feet dragging as she crossed the cold, stone floor. Her eyes finally found the girl ahead—the daughter she had once loved more than life itself.

Caitlyn stood there, trembling, her eyes a raw mix of shock and anguish. Tears clung to her lashes, but she refused to let them fall—her pain too great to mask behind silence.

Leaning down to meet Caitlyn's gaze, the queen studied her daughter's tear-streaked face—her once bright eyes now dulled with despair. Gently, she wiped a tear from Caitlyn's cheek, her touch tender but shaking, as though every movement was weighed down with regret.

"I'm sorry, Caitlyn," the queen murmured, her voice breaking. "But... you'll be free soon."

Caitlyn's face twisted with disbelief and hurt, her breath hitching as the words sank in. She couldn't comprehend the woman standing before her—the mother who had always promised protection—now standing there as her executioner.

Caitlyn's vision blurred with rage and sorrow, and before she could stop herself, the words burst out, sharp and bitter.

"You killer!" she screamed, her voice cracking with fury. "You murdered Father, and now you're going to leave me to die, too!" Her words were venomous, and in her blind grief, she spit at the queen, the insult aimed like a dagger.

The queen recoiled, her face pale as the accusation struck with a force she hadn't anticipated. Her breath caught in her throat, her mind racing to deny the truth in her daughter's words. But the look in Caitlyn's eyes—the rawness of it—made it impossible to argue.

The queen straightened, though every muscle in her body screamed in protest. She stood taller than before, but inside, she felt smaller than ever.

And then, without another word, she turned away, each step heavier than the last.

It was over. Caitlyn would never look at her the same again. The queen knew it, and the weight of that truth settled heavily in her chest. All she could do now was wait, hope that time would somehow—someday—heal the rift between them.

"I'm sorry," the queen whispered, her voice barely a breath, the words tasting like ash in her mouth. She couldn't bring herself to meet her daughter's bloodshot, pleading eyes.

"Please, don't leave me, Mother!" Caitlyn's voice cracked, raw with desperation. She reached out, her small hand clutching the queen's leg with an urgency that tore at the queen's heart.

The queen's breath hitched. For one fleeting moment, she almost gave in—almost bent down to hold Caitlyn, to tell her it would be okay. But the weight of her decision was already made, and no amount of love or regret could undo it. Her hand trembled as she raised it, signaling to the guards who stood at attention.

"Take her," she ordered, her voice trembling but firm.

Caitlyn's frantic cries rang in the queen's ears as she turned away, unable to bear the sight of her daughter's anguish. Her body was frozen, stiff with the coldness of her own heart, even as the violent screams and the desperate sounds of resistance filled the air.