Different Worlds

Chapter 13

I immediately jump off the bed, ignoring that I am dressed in a simple nightgown and look nothing like my powerful self. I am careful to hold the broken arrow—one splinter and I would be as doomed as Emma. "What do you mean this wasn't our arrow?" I demand, my eyes flashing in warning.

The guard glances toward Emma, who whimpers and shivers involuntarily in her sleep. I cover the girl back up and exit the room, noticing guards and servants are awake and bustling about despite it being the middle of the night.

"Round up all castle staff and meet me in my throne room in 5 minutes," I instruct, quickly poofing myself into a red gown entailed with black ribbon, my hair tied in a high ponytail with a black lace head decoration complimenting my pale figure.

I head to the kitchen where mu personal cook is wide awake and slaving away, her morning tea brewed and ready for her to drink. "Why are you up so early, Yvette?" I ask, accepting the steaming mug and dropping a silver coin into her hand for her gratitude.

The cook's eyes widen at her show of thanks and she curtseys respectfully before standing tall to answer. "The guards have informed you of the poisoned arrow, I assume. I—along with my more valuable cooks—are awake to serve meals for the staff and for your sick girl. She needs all the strength she can get to pull through, Your Majesty."

A smile tugs at my lips, but I hold it back in a display to not show weakness despite the kind gesture. "Emma is sleeping. Her fever has not gone down—her ice packs will need to be changed soon."

Yvette nods as she spreads jam on English muffins and stirs stew at the same time. "Of course, Your Majesty."

I am soon on my way to the throne room, hearing the buzz of chattering staff right outside the door. I enter, and the room goes silent. All kneel before me, guards, servants, and stewards alike. They only stand as I perch on my throne, looking upon them with my chin held high.

"I have been informed of an attempted murder in our court. This perpetrator is not the guard I thought it was. Before we get to those matters, I need to address something far more important."

The crowd waits expectantly and I can feel the tremor of nervousness and confusion sweep my staff. I must control this before it becomes worse. I cannot have chaos when we may have a war approaching. I need my staff stable and sated, unlike the way they are right now.

"My prisoner has been poisoned upon saving the bandit's life, and is now fighting for her own." I wince inwardly at the use of the word 'prisoner' but it clarifies who I'm describing among my staff. I point at a woman who I recognize as the castle nurse. She is young, but I have seen what she can do with her learned skills so I know she is capable. "You. Go tend to her. Use whatever supplies you need. You will send someone to inform of me of the girl's condition if she gets worse."

The nurse curtseys, meeting my eyes for a fleeting second before bowing her head. "Yes, Your Majesty."

The room is silent as she scampers out, the heavy doors audibly shutting behind her. "The guard who shot the bandit, step forward," I say loudly and clearly.

The crowd parts to let him through, and the young man comes forward, nervous that he is being addressed once more for a deed I was unhappy with him fulfilling in the first place. He kneels before me, avoiding my eyes. I snap my fingers, and—like the well-trained guard he is—stands to his full height, meeting my eyes. He hides his nervousness well this time around, and I feel a glimmer of respect for him.

"What is your name?" I question.

"Cederic, Your Majesty," he answers without hesitation.

I conjure a sword into my hands and hold it up as if to strike. Although no one says dares say a word or make a sound, the tension in the room skyrockets and my magic pulses within me as if informing me of the change. Cedric himself loses his mask though he doesn't speak or beg for his life this time.