The day that I dreaded for so long had finally arrived. The twentieth day of summer.

Before he leaves for Terrawyn, my father planned to come and visit me at the palace one last time, and now, I am anxiously awaiting for him to arrive.

I had regained some of my strength, so I was able to walk around the palace again, though I had to clutch onto Lillianna's arm out of fear that I would collapse.

    "My Lady, I heard some interesting tidbits from the chambermaids," Argenta whispered as she and Lillianna escorted me downstairs. "Apparently, one of them overheard that Hasteburn woman crying and wailing at her father, begging him to persuade the King to sleep with her again."

    "What foul behaviour," Lillianna interjected.

    "Does she cry out for her son?" I ask.

Argenta shook her head. "Surprisingly, no. She supposedly hates the boy now, since he has been tainted by the southern demons."

On any other day, I would have laughed upon hearing this piece of gossip, but today, I felt as if all joy has left my body.
I only silently nodded, not bothering to open my mouth and add more fuel to the fire.

     The Earl arrived early in the morning, mounted proudly on his ebony steed, his robes of silk brocade billowing in the wind.

    "Father," I greeted smilingly, but I knew that my fake cordiality did little to mask the worry in my eyes. "It is so good to see you."

    "Likewise, my daughter," he says as he lowers his head in greeting.

From the beginning of my reign until now, I never liked how my father had to bow down to me. After all, he was the one who put me up here, so why should he be the one lowering his head?

    "You should go and see the King," I say as I place my hand on his shoulder, stopping him from bowing down.

He glances up at me and smiles. "Of course, Your Majesty."

He vanishes into the King's study, and I had no clue as to what he was discussing with Edmund. And to be frank, I was too anxious to care.

The duration of their discussion was not long, and within half an hour, my father emerged from the King's study.

    "Anne, I don't have much time," he says urgently. "I would like to give you a prized possession of mine."

My eyes lit up. "What is it, Father?"

    "This," he says, gesturing to the white gold band on his forefinger. The ring was intricately carved, and in the centre of it were five teardrop shaped amethysts, arranged in a way to resemble a periwinkle in full bloom.

      "This is our family heirloom, Anne. It was worn by your great-great-grandfather, and it was passed down all the way to me."

He then takes the ring off, then grasped my hand and placed the ring on my open palm.
        "This ring has accompanied me to the most dangerous battlefields, and had witnessed the most twisted conspiracies. But I remain unscathed, so I believe that it provides protection to some extent."

My father smiled as he folded my hand shut, sealing the ring within. "And now, I want you to have it."

    "But Father," I protest. "You need the protection now, more than ever. I can't take it."

He shook his head. "How much harm could befall me? I am more concerned about you, my child. You are surrounded by creatures who appear human, but deep within, they are gluttonous beasts who are awaiting for your downfall."

    "Father-"

    "I must leave now, child," the Earl says hastily. "I beg you to take good care of yourself while I am not here, do you understand?"

I could feel the tears slowly rise up, and I did not know why. "I will, Father."

My father smiled as he patted my head gently. "Let us pray that the journey will not take long, so that I may return home and see my grandchild."

    "Yes," I say, nodding. I dug my fingernails into my palms to stop the tears from falling, but to no avail. "You must return home. We will be waiting for you."

His eyes softened. "Anne, even though you are now the queen, you will always be my lovely daughter."

That was the final straw, and I could feel the warm tears trickle down my cheeks. I wanted to reach out for him, to hug him one last time, but then I hear his servant calling out for him, telling him that his carriage was ready.

    "I must take my leave now, Your Majesty," he says. "Remember what I said. Hold it close to your heart."

He patted my head one final time and made his way towards the carriage, where the footman patiently awaited for him.

I quietly watched as the carriage doors swung open, then my father went inside, vanishing into the darkness. He then pushed the curtains aside, giving me a glimpse of him.

He was smiling, but I had no energy to do so.

    "Come back home, Father," I wanted to shout, but it came out as a pathetic little whisper, inaudible to everyone but me.

The carriage took off, and I stood there and watched until it vanished into the horizon.

       Six weeks before I was due to give birth, I was escorted into confinement, as dictated by tradition. 

It was the first time I entered proper confinement despite having given birth to two children, as my first had been born in a dungeon, and in the case of Verena, our kingdom had been in such a tumultuous state that I did not have time to care about tradition.

      But now, I feel at ease. My father will arrive safely in Terrawyn and make Henri du Terre sign the peace treaty, and all will be well. Then, he will return just in time to see my child be born. My father always succeeds. My father always prevails.

I watch as Lillianna and Argenta cover the tall windows with woven tapestries and paintings, darkening the entire room. The cold marble flooring had been layered with wool carpets, as all the old wives in the past believed that even the slightest bit of coldness could bring great harm.

      My chambers now felt as if they were a gigantic womb, which was the entire purpose of the confinement tradition. It was to bring comfort and relaxation to the mother prior to giving birth, which I found ironic since childbirth is almost always horrific.

      For the past three weeks, I saw no one other than my ladies and mother-in-law, along with some chambermaids whose names I did not know. No men were allowed inside the confinement chamber, and that included the King himself.

My mother-in-law said that Edmund had retreated to his study and rarely left, though occasionally I would receive all sorts of odd gifts and trinkets, like glass bead bracelets and dried flowers. I thought that it was a lovely gesture, adorable even.

       While I considered my husband as a kind, magnanimous ruler, he tended to present himself to the people as a cold, heartless king, which paired immensely well with his northern upbringing. At court, he rarely smiles or entertains the bootlicking ministers. Instead, he would take his seat and quietly flip through account books.

To the outsiders, my husband seemed like a calculating and vicious usurper, but I knew that was not entirely true.

I slipped the glass bead bracelet onto my wrist, marvelling at how the beads seemed to glow in the dim light.

Then, in the corner of my eyes, I saw Lillianna coming inside the room with a box in her hands. She tore off the wrapping paper, revealing a red coloured box nestled within.

    "My Lady," she says smilingly. "I bought some incense sticks when I visited town earlier this morning. Would you like me to light them up for you?"

My heart almost leapt out of my chest when I heard her say that. I took a quick glance at the box that she was holding, and even though they looked very different from the incense sticks I had used on Jane Ainsworth, I was unable to calm my nerves.

    "No," I murmured weakly. "I do not like the smell of incense."

Lillianna frowns. "Oh, what a shame. These incense sticks were shipped in from Ravaeryn, and they supposedly smell like jasmine and mint leaves. Are you sure you don't want me to light them up?"

    "I've told you before, Lillianna. I don't want them in here," I say, my voice higher by an octave.

Shaken by my sudden outburst, Lillianna quietly put the lid back on and left the room with it. I felt horrible for scolding her over such a seemingly mundane thing, especially when she meant well, but she has no clue as to how that harmless box on incense sticks had scarred me.

      It was a reminder of the sins I had committed, the lives I had taken. First, there was Jane Ainsworth's first child, who ended up as chunks of blood clots on the bedsheet. Then, there was poor Prince Gregory, whose life had already been ruined prior to his birth.

Maybe Reuel Huntingdon is right. The Winterbournes do not know how to nurture lives. We only know how to take them.

        Other than this little scene with Lillianna, my life in confinement was quite uneventful. All I did was eat, read some books and go to sleep. It was very sedentary, but after years of constantly being on my toes, it was a welcome change.

However, I did notice that my mother-in-law had been acting oddly in the past few days. There was a glint of sympathy as she looked at me, and she would constantly purse her lips, as if she were hiding something from me.

    "Mama," I eventually ask her one day. "Is there something that you wish to tell me?"

She warily glanced at me, then abruptly shook her head. "No, Your Majesty."

My mother-in-law was not very convincing, and even if she were, she could not fool me. I had grown keen and observant, and I could sniff the cautious air surrounding her like a blood hound.

    "You are hiding something, Mama," I say. "You could either tell me yourself, or I could have my ladies find out about it for me. Whichever you may prefer."

The King's Mother shook her head, her verdant green eyes wide with worry. "Your Majesty, I am concealing it from you for your own good. You mustn't burden your mind. It isn't good for you."

    "So I am right," I laugh. "Something has indeed happened. What is it this time? Is Melissa Hasteburn with child again? Or has my husband taken in a new concubine?"

She shook her head again, but now, her eyes were filled with tears. "No, Your Majesty. It is your father..."

       My wild thoughts came to an immediate halt upon hearing that sentence. "Say that again," I command, wanting to sound domineering, but my weak tone betrayed me.

A single tear trickled down my mother-in-law's cheek as she hastily dug into her robes. She pulled out a letter sealed with black wax, though the wax seal had been cracked open, indicating that it had been read beforehand.

With shaky hands, she passed the letter to me. It was a letter from my brother, addressed to me. But why the black wax? And my father, what about my father?

My mind felt as if it were in a blur as I ripped the envelope apart, revealing the flimsy piece of parchment within.

Gilbert's scraggly handwriting came into view, and for a brief moment, I could not comprehend what he was saying. In front of my eyes was a block of text, but I felt as if it were an impenetrable forest of thorny vines.

    Sister, he wrote.

I am writing to you from the border. Our father arrived at Henri du Terre's court three days ago, but the treaty did not go as planned. Sister, our father is dead. Margaret ordered for him to be beheaded, and his decapitated head was paraded on a pike all over Valenfort City. We do not know what has become of his body.

All thought of peace has gone out of the window, and all that is left is hatred. Tomorrow, I will be marching north. I swear on our father's name that I will find that bastard Henri du Terre, and once I capture him, he will wish that he has never been born.

I know that you are afraid, Anne, and so am I. You are my twin, my other half. The rage that fills your heart also runs through my veins. I know what you wish for, and I will fulfil it for you. Mark my words, Anne. In a fortnight, I will return home with the head of Henri du Terre and lay it down by your feet.

Your brother,

Gilbert Winterbourne

I skimmed the contents of the letter over and over unable to believe my eyes. It can't be real. It can't be real. My father always succeeds. My father always prevails in the end.

    "This isn't true," I whimper as I crumple up the letter, roughly tossing it aside. "Tell me it isn't true, Mama!"

The King's Mother weakly shook her head as she tried to pull me into a hug, but I evaded her arms.

    "Anne, you must calm down-"

    "Tell me it isn't true," I whimpered. I no longer cared about the etiquettes that a queen should abide by. All I care about is my father and brother, wherever they might be.

My father, the man who had always supported me, who entertained my whimsical dreams, and who put me on the throne. My brother, who had always looked up to me, who had sworn to protect me and always had.

Who knows how long it had been since this letter arrived. What has become of Gilbert, of my father?

    "Anne, your brother is marching towards the Terrawinian palace. We have no news from him. In fact, this is the last letter he sent to us."

I shook my head in disbelief. "But he has no soldiers! How will he defeat them? They will outnumber him!"

My mother-in-law let out a weak sigh as she knelt beside me, cupping my cheeks gently. "Anne, if he loses, the Terrawinians will come for us next. If that happens, we must flee. We must leave this kingdom."

    "No," I retort. "I must do something. I must help my brother."

    "Anne, you mustn't burden yourself. It isn't good for the baby," she protests.

Instead of feeling reassured, I felt rage swirling within my chest. "Then do you expect me to wait here while my brother fights to the death? The Terrawinians will slaughter him if I don't do anything!"

I push my mother-in-law aside, stood up and staggered towards the door. Deep inside, I had no clue of what to do. My husband must be perplexed as I was, but I had to try something.

Anything. Anything to save my brother and bring my father home.

My hands were mere inches away from the door handle when I hear my mother-in-law let out a shrill scream. For a brief moment, I was unable to understand what had scared her so badly, but then I felt it.

     It was as if I had been brutally punched in the gut, and waves of immense pain overtook me, spreading all the way up my spine. As I collapse on the floor, I saw the blood, my blood, soaking through my white nightgown.

My mother-in-law screamed again, this time even more urgently, prompting my ladies to burst into the room. What followed could only be described as a ruckus, but I had little recollection of that.

      I shut my eyes as I felt my consciousness leave my body, and for once, I wished that it would remain that way forever.