Chapter 68: The Vial Of The Royal Blood
The night was silent, except for the rustle of leaves. Eirene moved quickly through the forest beyond the palace walls. She wore a black cloak that covered most of her face, her steps careful and precise. She glanced around several times to make sure no one had followed her.
The forest here was old. The air smelled damp and heavy, thick with rot from fallen leaves and decayed branches. Somewhere in the distance, an owl called, and then it was quiet again. Eirene stopped when she reached a clearing where the ground was darker and the trees bent toward the center as if hiding something.
She stood still. "I am here," she said quietly.
For a moment, there was no response. Then the air shifted, and a shadow began to take form. The Wanderer emissary stepped out from behind a tree. His skin looked dry and gray, his eyes hollow, but there was movement in them—like ash stirred by the wind.
"You took your time," he said, his voice low and broken.
Eirene held her chin up. "You do not summon me, Wanderer. I come when I choose."
He made a sound that might have been a laugh, but it came out rough. "Even witches know fear. I can smell yours."
Eirene ignored him. She reached into her cloak and pulled out a small vial filled with thick red liquid. She held it out. "This is what you asked for. The King’s blood."
The emissary’s nostrils flared. He snatched the vial from her and pulled out the cork with his teeth. Then he drank it, every drop.
His body shook. For a few seconds, he bent forward as if in pain. The gray of his skin began to fade, replaced by a pale, human tone. His shoulders straightened. The dark veins that had marked his neck disappeared. When he looked up again, his face was whole.
He exhaled slowly, almost in relief. "It has been years since I tasted royal blood."
Eirene’s voice was sharp. "You have what you wanted. Now do what I asked."
He tilted his head. "You said you wanted the prince and princesses gone."
"Yes," Eirene said. "Every last one of them. The boy Evander and the twins Serene and Seraphina. Their deaths will fulfill my part of the promise to the coven. The blood of the first moon must be offered."
The emissary studied her for a long moment, his mouth twitching into something that looked like a smile. "The coven speaks of many promises. But they have changed the terms."
Eirene narrowed her eyes. "What do you mean by changed? The plan was for me to get rid of her, stop her before she fulfill her purpose. And I have planned to make her fall using one of her bonds, and I picked the weakest of them all."
He stepped closer. The smell of decay clung to him even after he had taken the king’s blood. "The new command is not to kill the heiress or break her bond. Not yet. The girl, Aveloria, must be brought to us alive."
Eirene frowned. "Alive? That was never the plan."
"It is now," he said. "The coven wants her alive. The chosen heir carries power older than your ancestors. Her mates will soon become targets, too. The hunt will begin for them all. When we have them, the curse will break. The goddess’s hold over us will end, and the world will bend to us again."
Eirene’s face hardened. "That wasn’t the deal. You were supposed to help me secure the throne. You said once she is gone, my daughter could rule."
"You will still have your chance," the emissary said. "But you will do your part. Deliver Aveloria to us. The coven demands it."
Eirene folded her arms. "And what if I refuse?"
The emissary’s expression changed. He took a step closer until she could see the veins crawling just under his skin. "Then your daughter will pay. The coven made it clear. If you fail, Rowena will suffer the consequence."
Eirene’s breath caught for a moment, but she hid it. "You dare threaten me with my child?"
"I am not the one threatening," the emissary said. "I am only the messenger. You made an oath, witch. Break it, and the oath will consume what you love most."
Eirene’s hand trembled slightly under her cloak. "I’ve done everything they asked. I gave up years of my life pretending to care for those royal brats. I kept their secrets, gained the king’s trust, even at the cost of my dignity. All of it to protect Rowena and secure our place."
The emissary stared at her with cold eyes. "Then keep doing it. You want to rule? Do what must be done."
Eirene glared at him. "I’ve given enough. I’ve sacrificed enough. When I rule, you will crawl. You will remember your place."
The emissary’s lips twisted. "We’ll see."
Eirene took a deep breath, her voice low and steady. "Tell your coven I’ll fulfill the mission. But if they touch Rowena, I’ll burn everything they’ve built. I don’t care about their ancient curses or their hunger for power. I am not their servant."
The emissary tilted his head, studying her as if he found her amusing. "You think you still have control. You don’t. You’re just another pawn. When the time comes, the coven will claim what you promised, and you’ll thank them for letting you live long enough to see it."
Eirene’s eyes narrowed. "We’ll see about that."
She turned sharply and began walking away. As she reached the edge of the clearing, she heard him speak again.
"Remember, witch," the emissary called after her, his voice carrying through the trees. "We are patient. The shadows never lose."
Then came the sound of quiet laughter. It was harsh and mocking, following her like a stain on the air.
Eirene stopped for a brief second, her shoulders tense, then continued walking. Her boots crushed dead leaves beneath her feet. She said nothing, but inside she was boiling.
Her thoughts ran wild. The emissary had no respect. None of them did. The coven used her when it suited them and threatened her when it didn’t. They didn’t understand what she had risked—the years spent pretending to care for the king’s children, her nights plotting how to get closer to the throne, the price she had paid to protect her children.
When she reached the outer edge of the forest, she stopped and leaned against a tree, breathing hard. She hated them all, Aveloria, the coven, the Wanderers, even the king who had once trusted her but never truly loved her. They were all obstacles in her way.
"I’ll make them regret ever doubting me," she whispered under her breath.
Eirene pushed away from the tree and started back toward the palace, her cloak dragging against the dirt.
She didn’t notice the faint sound behind her, the quiet step of another pair of feet. Hidden among the trees, Rowena stood watching. She had followed her mother from the palace, creeping, keeping her distance. Her heart had pounded the entire time, but curiosity had kept her going. She had seen everything: the shadow, the vial, and the exchange. She had heard her mother’s words.
Rowena stepped closer once her mother disappeared into the darkness. She stared at the spot where the emissary had stood. The air was still heavy, but the shadow lingered, visible like smoke that refused to fade.
Then she saw it, the emissary hadn’t gone. He was watching her.
Rowena froze.
The shadow tilted its head. "The daughter," it said, almost like a whisper.
Rowena didn’t move. Her mind raced. She could run back to the palace, or she could find out more. Her pulse quickened. She took a slow step forward instead.
The emissary didn’t move. His face was no longer fully formed, but his eyes were still visible, dark, hollow, and unblinking.
"What do you want from my mother?" Rowena asked quietly.
The shadow’s voice was soft but cold. "The same thing she wants. Power. I can tell you followed for the same reason."
Rowena swallowed hard. "How do you know?"
The emissary said nothing at first. Then he smiled faintly. "You’ll find out soon enough."
Rowena frowned, but curiosity overtook her fear. "You said something about wanting Aveloria alive and hunting down her mates."
The emissary stepped closer. "The chosen one. The key to the curse. She doesn’t know what she carries."
Rowena’s voice trembled slightly. "And if she dies?"
"Then everything dies with her," the emissary said. "The goddess made sure of that."
Rowena’s eyes darkened. "So she’s that important."
"Yes," the shadow said. "And whoever controls her controls everything."
Rowena looked down at the ground for a moment, then back up. "Maybe my mother isn’t the only one who can make deals."
The emissary tilted his head. "You’re bold."
"I’m smarter," she said quietly.
The shadow laughed, a dry, rasping sound. "We’ll see."
Rowena took another step forward. "Tell me what I need to do to become your own."
"You’re already one of us."
"Not that way. I want more. I want to make a deal with the coven. I can be more than my mother." She rattled on, desperation evident in her tone.
The emissary didn’t answer. His form began to fade, the darkness pulling back into the trees.
"Wait," she called.
"You don’t give the orders here, child."
Well, I’m not afraid of you."
"You should be. But I’ll relay your message to the coven. After all, I am a messenger." His voice drifted through the air as his body disappeared completely
Rowena stood alone in the clearing, her heart pounding. The forest was quiet again. She looked around, her breath unsteady.
Her mind was spinning. She had followed her mother, expecting to meet the coven and make a deal. Instead, she had met the emissary. Hopefully, he delivers her message.
She turned back toward the path she had followed, her eyes sharp and thoughtful. If what she had heard was true, Aveloria wasn’t just a rival to her. She was the key to everything, the curse, the prophecy, and the throne.
And what was playing out in Rowena’s mind was how she could be the one to take control of it all.
She looked once more toward the darkness where the emissary had vanished.
"I’ll control everything." She said quietly.
Then she finally turned and walked away, her cloak brushing against the forest floor, her face calm but her thoughts racing.
