Chapter 234: The Curse They Spoke Of
When the first set of rebels was led back to the palace, almost everyone gathered in the grand hall turned their attention toward them while quiet whispers spread through the room.
The hoods covering the rebels’ heads had already been pulled back so that everyone could see their faces, and from the hatred burning in their eyes, it was obvious they felt no shame over being captured.
These were the very same people who had reduced Westmere to ashes. They were brought before Rowan, while the rest of the council members watched in silence.
"Your Majesty," the captain leading that division began, and after Rowan gave him permission to continue, he bowed his head before reporting, "The camps we discovered have been destroyed, the villagers have been rescued, and these are the rebels we managed to capture."
Rowan’s gaze slowly moved across every face before him. They were both men and women, yet not one of them looked frightened despite standing before the throne.
Instead, their expressions were filled with open hostility, as though they still believed they had done nothing wrong.
"Where are the rest of your people?" Rowan asked calmly because he wanted to locate the remaining hideouts and bring the rebellion to an end before it could spread any further.
Not one of them answered.
"Perhaps I may spare you if..." he began, intending to offer them one opportunity to cooperate, but before he could finish, one of the rebels burst into laughter.
Rowan’s eyes narrowed upon him.
"Why should we fear you?" the man asked boldly, his voice echoing across the hall.
"How insolent!" one of the elder council members shouted, stepping forward in anger. "You dare interrupt the king? You shall pay dearly for such disrespect!"
"Leave this matter to me, Elder Long," Rowan said without taking his eyes off the rebel.
The elder immediately composed himself, cleared his throat, and bowed. "Yes, Your Majesty."
Rowan’s attention was on the man before him, yet the rebel spoke again without waiting to be questioned. "We don’t have a reason to fear you" he repeated with a sneer. "This kingdom is already doomed."
A murmur rippled through the council.
"What do you mean?" Rowan asked, his eyes narrowing further as he studied the man.
Before he could answer, one of the women among the rebels suddenly sharply accused. "Because the child the queen is carrying is cursed,"
The entire hall fell into stunned silence.
Rowan’s jaw tightened almost imperceptibly, and the hand resting against the arm of his chair slowly curled into a fist until his knuckles turned white. A dangerous coldness settled over his features, and even the guards standing nearby instinctively straightened.
****
Rosalind was just on her way back to her chamber, while Freya and Kira followed quietly behind her. The palace corridors were unusually noisy that afternoon, and the further they walked, the louder the voices became until the sound of shouting echoed from the direction of the grand hall.
She slowed her steps before turning slightly. "What is happening?"
Freya hesitated for a brief moment before answering, "The rebels that were captured have been brought before His Majesty."
Rosalind brows pulled together. " But why is everyone shouting?"
Neither maid answered immediately, and just as Kira was about to suggest they continue walking, a woman’s voice rang loudly through the hall.
"The child the Queen is carrying is cursed!"
Rosalind stopped walking altogether.
Her fingers instinctively moved over her stomach while her eyes widened ever so slightly, and before she could process what she had just heard, another voice rose above the others.
She heard Rowan’s voice from where she was and she knew he was trying to keep his control in check but it was slipping, "Choose your next words very carefully," Rowan said, his voice frighteningly calm. "Because once you finish speaking, I will decide whether you leave this hall alive."
"Eryndor will never know peace while that child lives!" The woman continued fearlessly.
"Your Majesty..." Freya said softly as she stepped closer. "Please don’t listen to them."
"They’re only trying to spread fear," Kira quickly added. "Please... let’s go."
Collective gasp swept through the grand hall, and even the council members exchanged startled glances.
"Silence!" one of the guards barked, striking the end of his spear against the marble floor.
The sharp sound echoed throughout the hall, yet the rebels ignored the warning as though they no longer feared any authority.
They started hurling one cruel accusation after another, and their hateful words echoed throughout the hall as they insulted both her and the innocent child she carried.
"Wasn’t she just a foreign whore?"
"That child is a taboo"
Even as the guards moved to shut them up, they continued yelling at the top of their voices.
They continued throwing one vicious accusation after another, and every word struck Rosalind’s heart like a blade.
Her heartbeat pounded louder with every passing moment, yet she could clearly see that these were nothing more than the lies Griswold had planted in their minds for his own benefit.
He wanted the people to fear an innocent child, and he wanted the kingdom to believe that every tragedy happening around them was somehow tied to the baby she carried.
Rosalind remained where she was for a moment, unable to move as the words echoed over and over inside her head.
She couldn’t understand how people who had never seen her child could hate someone who hadn’t even been born yet, and before another accusation reached her ears, she quietly turned around and walked away.
Neither Freya nor Kira spoke on the journey back because they knew there was nothing they could possibly say that would erase what she had already heard.
"You see? Griswold is only trying to save us from this predicament. If this continues, Eryndor will suffer even more!" they continued shouting across the hall, repeating the lies as though they were undeniable truths.
Rowan’s patience snapped. "Enough." He commanded.
The word cut through the hall with such authority that every whisper disappeared.
Even those who had been murmuring among themselves lowered their heads, while the rebels alone continued glaring without remorse.
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