xxiv.

ISADORA TREMAINE HAD HALF A MIND to wander out into the halls outside-dressed lavishly as she was for her engagement ball-to search for the audacious man who had approached her son so blatantly. Her heart was terrified inside her, and second by second she was trying to calm it as though it were a frightened bird, ceaselessly shuddering.

Watching Archie being adjusted into his suit, his hair being brushed by Lucy's careful hands as the boy looked like a little gentleman, Isa wondered if she would find the man who had approached him if she ventured out. She tried to convince herself that there was no merit to the stranger's words, she tried to tell herself that he was but a mere fool looking to wreak unrest at the occasion-a hater.

Surely, the news that the King of Angria was to marry a woman from Toulouse from Kingdom of Valence, with an adopted child of her own, with neither of them of royal blood or even nobles-surely such a thing would tear out rebellious people and pour venom into their tongues and hearts. Isa had expected such a thing of course, she had expected what the claims against Archie would be, but that had all settled her heart when Zander had promised he'd make Archie his heir and raise him as his own. After that promise, Isadora hadn't given a second thought to any other claims against Archie.

But to have someone approach her son-even as a thoughtless jest-to lay pretentious claims to be his father? That was unsettling. It was traumatizing.

Isadora wanted to be rid of it-the feeling, the man, his words. She wanted it all to erase itself, but since it wouldn't, she felt the restlessness in her bones to do something about it.

Her feet kept wanting to sweep her to the halls outside, to search for and approach the blatant stranger and demand of him what she was being urged upon by her fury. But she held herself back, feeling the cream beautiful gown she wore and catching her own reflection in the looking glass.

This night was hers and Zander's. This night was a dream she couldn't have ever had the guts to dream of-even as a careless young girl with Ruby Alderidge as her companion. Tonight Isa would publicly be engaged to the King of Angria, and everyone in the kingdom and those beyond would know of it-know of her. But to have a stranger's foolish jest touch her resolve on this night of all nights, she wanted to curse at herself-to shout at herself for letting someone else make her lose sight of what mattered to her the most.

As Lucy fussed over Archie, brushing and styling his curly hair as she rubbed a bit of grease on his head to tame his locks, Isadora thought of the fairy godmother.

The elder woman had found Isa two days ago, and assured her-in the fairy's strangely unorthodox way-of her marriage to the King of Angria. Isa had been assured she would become Queen, all because the fairy godmother and the other four fairies had found it prudent to look into the future for they feared an incoming war.

"You can control King Alexander Casimir of Angria."

The statement readily rushed into Isadora's mind, clad in the fairy godmother's thick and slightly anxious tone the night she had spoken them to her.

Her heart shuddered at the impact of the words, had she even truly registered them before? What could the fairy godmother possibly mean? Zander listened to her, yes, but-

"I will only ever agree with what you decide upon from now onwards, Isadora, nothing fucking matters to me more than your contentment and approval. I need you to understand that."

Isadora exhaled softly as Zander's earlier spoken words pounded into her head, adamant and demanding. He was going to be her husband, despite his utter compliance and respect for her, why would she ever want to control him?

What could the fairy godmother possibly mean?

Isa touched her chest slightly, trying to ground herself. The man who had spoken so blatantly to Archie, was just another piece of glass stuck in Isadora's mind, trying to dampen her strength for this night. The fairy godmother's statement was another such glass piece.

If there was war coming, then Isadora knew it wasn't her due. What could she possibly have to do with war? War had riddled empires and kingdoms since before time, and while the five fairies-the fairy godmother included-were rumored to have meddled and continue to meddle in them, Isadora's part remained simple. As the wife to the King of Angria, as his Queen, she would support all of his decisions like Queens and wives were supposed to do.

She would never try to take the reins of something she couldn't even properly comprehend. She would never try to interrupt decisions that Zander made in midst of war. What had given the fairy godmother the impression that she would?

Mon Dieu, was Zander even aware of the war that the fairies were predicting? He had never discussed anything relating to the political stature of his kingdom, or other such things, with her. Before they were engaged, it was apt and understandable not to. But now that she was his fiancée-or even once she became his wife, he would share such things wouldn't he? Perhaps then he'd tell her if he suspected the war that the fairies were predicting. Or should she tell him first? Was it her duty-when she became his wife-to tell him, if she knew such a thing first?

Isa's mind was muddled as she exhaled a slow breath. Things were piling up inside her and accumulating-issues that she'd rather not have at this point in her life. Wasn't today to mark the end of all her troubles? Then what were these glass pieces littering her path like this?

She looked at the door of her chambers. If she sought the man who had approached Archie out, she could rest her heart if she could find out why the man had made such a jest-or if it was a jest at all. Or, perchance, if she sought out the fairy godmother, she could find out what the woman meant with her blatant talk of war and her claim of the control Isadora presumably had over the King of Angria-Isa wanted to know what gave the elder fairy the impression that such a thing would help conquer the war?

Gathering her skirts in her palms gently so as to not crease, Isadora met Lucy's gaze.

"I will be right back," She managed, not willing to offer an explanation to her incoming departure.

"No, my lady," Lucy blurted out, astonished, "You will be escorted by his majesty King Alexander. You must wait for him."

Isa's heart pounded in her chest at the thought of Zander even coming close to her while her mind was in such a disarray. She was terrified to think of what might happen if the stranger met and blurted out the same things to him that he had spoken to Archie. The mere thought that anything about Ruby Alderidge or Archie's history becoming known to Zander was deeply unsettling. Why would a king in his right mind associate with all of that? Why wouldn't he detach himself instantly, fearing the damage to his own reputation?

"Yes," Isadora started, before catching herself and intaking a grounding breath. "I'll be here when he comes, I just need a moment."

Lucy's fair features disrupted in slight confusion as she forced herself to nod, curtseying in submission as Isa pivoted and exited the chambers, shutting the door behind her before the maid could even straighten and meet her eyes back again.

Finding herself in the quiet hallway outside of her new palace chambers, Isadora could hear just how much of a clamor her heart was making inside her chest, and all she could think was that she was supposed to be incandescently happy today. She was, but an extent had been created inside her now. At present, she was forced to be happy to an extent, and that extent had been erected without her will by forces she was letting her mind dwell on.

The guards outside her chambers, dressed in Angria's royal colors, stood like frozen statues against the wall, lining the entire hallway as far as she could see. They were all there for her, for there had been no such protocol outside of her older chambers in the palace, there were no guards in her periphery when she had been just a guest.

But she wasn't just a guest now. Every time realization struck her, it made her feel so dizzy with raw delight. Her mind ventured again onto her restlessness, and that raw delight was snuffed out like a candle.

The guards looked straight ahead, their gazes fixed that way for hours upon hours, but Isa's pre-mature presence in the hallway ruffled a bit of their stone resolve. She could feel them disturbed, though they ought not show it. And they most definitely felt her disturbed, and she was probably showing it.

She fixed her mind to her task and realized she hadn't settled on a precise one yet. What was she to do? March out right into the throne room full of royal guests and demand the stranger who had spoken to her son to show himself? No. That would not do at all.

Perhaps she could search for the fairy godmother. The elder fairy would surely be in secret attendance, wouldn't she? Or if not, perhaps she would come if called. Could she be summoned at all?

Would she be able to tell Isadora about this man who was troubling her conscience? Mon Dieu, could she acquire the fairy godmother's magical aid in some way?

Isa didn't know where to start for her search for the fairy godmother. She found herself walking along the hallway, her chambers abandoned and going further and further away as off she went.

The palace of Angria was always concentrated-sparse-on celebratory occasions, she had realized. The bulk of the excitement was centered to the ballroom or the throne room, depending on where Queen Ariana or Zander wanted royal rituals to be held-and of course, depending on what those rituals were. Everywhere else in the palace was always quiet on days like these, as though the staff was under constant orders to not even parade an unnecessary footfall outside any of the inhabited chambers.

Since the night of her intimate engagement, her upgrade to new chambers-courtesy of the Queen mother-had resulted in Isa having to start from square one on the progress of finding her way about the palace. But it was no longer a painful struggle. She was startled and still in awe, at how welcome the thought of coming to know the palace inside out was, for it was to be her home was it not?

Her heart stuttered then. Could this future that she saw for herself still be jeopardized? It was so real, so firm that she could touch it. Could it still dematerialize because of this intruder who had pounced on Archie?

Isa passed the library-not the official palace library, but a smaller version of it made on this floor for quicker and private access for the family. But upon passing it, she sensed movement inside and halted in her steps, before walking back over to the room.

Of the five chandeliers in the room, Isa could see that the two closest to the shelves had been lit, and there stood a man with his front to shelves, back hunched over a book, washed under the crystal yellow lights in the semi darkness of the room.

The man's attire was distinguished, the back of his coat a deep navy with a golden sheen to the thing under the present lights. Could this be a guest, having wandered far from the throne room where guests were to be gathered before the dancing and other festivities began? Surely, a guard must've guided this person to not venture far from the throne room until Queen Ariana made her appearance. It was then that Isadora was supposed to enter with Zander leading her.

Guests were surely not in leisure to make use of the private library on this floor, disregarding entirely the much larger and official library not too far away from the throne room and ballroom on the ground floor of the palace.

Isa was stumped in her assumptions, and before she could recover, the man had heard the rustle of her dress against the floors in the silence, and had turned out to look at her.

Her eyes met his, and she almost gasped audibly.

The man's thin eyes were sky blue between the loose skin sporting them, and oh so familiar. His hair, light brown and streaked with an odd white, was curled every which way and gelled in a way to preserve every position the strands were taking. He was older, possibly in his late forties, with the average build of a man at such an age. Except, unlike the men aged forty or above that she had seen in her village in Toulouse, this one was clearly adorned in a expensive attire and possessed rounded edges, but not the protruding ones-his form not burly, and neither fat.

In short, he was a man who had excessive amounts of money and leisure time to spend on himself. And if the tradesmen and shop sellers in Toulouse had all the same liberties, they too would look exactly like him.

"Ah," The man let out, putting aside the book he was inspecting as his eyes widened slightly and a practiced smile took over his thin lips.

"You must be Zander's bride to be."

Isadora stilled at the mention of Zander's nickname. Could anyone else have use of it except his mother, herself, Archie, Zander's cousin Prince Charming, King Reginald, and some other of his friends?

Or did this man-who her heart was screaming at her was the same person who had stopped Archie not yet a full hour ago-fall naturally into one of the categories Isa had willfully pushed him out of?

"You are utterly mesmerizing, dare I say," The man stepped forwards, before stopping in the middle of the room, still yards away from where Isa was standing in the doorway.

He pinned his hands behind his back, like men of privilege were fond of doing. It was startling how much she hated the gesture on anyone else but Zander. Perhaps that was because the latter always did it subconsciously, without any meaning attached, unlike others.

In clearer light, shadows were born on the elder man's face. Isa could see a little loose skin at the neck, and multiple refined wrinkles etched in the dips of his face.

For a moment, as she took in the man's poised charm, distrust washed her body in clarity. And she saw Ruby Alderidge-weak kneed and doe eyed-saying yes to this man's every whim.

Mon Dieu, she had only been a girl of twenty and two.

Isadora Tremaine didn't need to ask this man how he had ensnared her deceased friend. She didn't need to ask this man if Archie was truly his biological child. Isa could see it all in this man's face, she saw every single moment that he and Ruby would've spent together, she saw how he had tricked her, she saw how his wealth and prestige would've blinded a simple village girl like Ruby Alderidge, who's only dream had been to marry into wealth and prestige.

Isa saw everything, and a sharp sting pierced her eyes as they misted. She schooled herself, held herself firm. She wouldn't cry in front of this man, like she had never cried in front of anyone else since Ruby's death. The fairy godmother was an exception, and for some reason, Isa knew the elder woman didn't count.

"Ah," The man began again, a new recognition on his face as he came to a conclusion, in full face of Isa's nonverbal silence.

"I see the little boy ran straight to you?"

Isadora's fist clenched at her side, but forcing her composure, she loosened it. Taking hold of her cream skirts gently, she let herself into the library room. Walking towards the man, she stopped just yards in front of him, and mustered a small smile on her face.

"Why wouldn't he?" She began, bringing her fingers together at the base of her stomach.

"He's my son," She tilted her head, eyes pinned on the man's face, daring him to challenge her. "He will run to me for anything he wants to."

The man raised a brow, and Isadora saw the streaks of white in the brown brow hair too. Then, the man let out a small laugh, shaking his head before he met Isa's eyes, amusement plastered on his face.

"You chose him as your son, Miss Tremaine," The man began, "Surely there is a difference."

Isa broke eye contact, her eyes falling to her hands as she nodded in mock understanding before her firm gaze met his again.

"Perhaps," She spoke, "But I do hope your mother would've had the choice too."

The man dropped his head, laughing in face of Isa's contempt of him before he lifted his eyes to look at her.

"You are harsh to me, Miss Tremaine," The man enunciated, "And I don't understand why. Do you suppose my presence threatens you and the little boy?"

Isa shook her head once, her sharp eyes not leaving the man's.

"I would hate to give you such power."

"Yet you believe I have already acquired it," The man responded, a smirk on his face.

Isadora held her ground, her eyes burning into his as she refused to budge and back down.

In face of her strong contempt, the man exhaled, before wiping his amusement off his face-his features firming.

"Look, Miss Tremaine," He let out, "We both find ourselves in a predicament, though I'd be lying if I say that it bodes unwell for both of us."

"How did you recognize him?" Isa blurted out then, sharp fury lining her words as she thought of the man's audacity to approach her son.

"You didn't even see the child born," Her gaze was like the sharp end of a knife, and she could only wish it would cut him.

"You left while she was pregnant, never to be found again. How can you ever claim to recognize him?"

The man took a singular step forwards.

"I did wonder what became of the child, so I did visit once. Did not your maid-or rather, stepsister-tell you?"

Isa blinked, only one name in the center of her mind. Cinderella?

Sensing the confusion on her face, he continued.

"I came to the village and asked about the girl," He shook his head, a sudden smile on his face. "Good old Toulouse, everyone knows everybody else back there. They knew who Ruby was in an instant."

The man's eyes flashed then, and Isadora remembered how she had assumed Archie's blue eyes were from Ruby-not knowing that the man who had gotten Ruby with child, too had blue eyes.

But Isa had seen Ruby Alderidge's blue eyes, Mon Dieu, Isa had them memorized for the years she had spent traipsing their village with the girl. But though blue, Isadora could shamefully only realize at present that Archie did not have Ruby Alderidge's blue eyes.

"They told me she had died-or been killed, rather," The man blinked, "Which came as a surprise, for goodness knows what that girl did to get such a fate."

Isa bit the inside of her cheek. For a while-Nay, for perhaps the longest time since-she had thought that the man who was Archie's biological father, had also been the man who had murdered his biological mother. But at present, Isadora couldn't-try as she might-make him appear guilty for that crime.

"Regardless, I was told the child was formally adopted, by the decree of the mayor of Toulouse."

The man paused, his gaze fixed in Isa's as he considered something.

"I couldn't understand at first why a woman-a girl-from a decent, if not wealthy, background would want to adopt an illegitimate child off the streets. Since that is simply not done. So naturally, I had to pay you a visit."

"Curiosity is what led you?" Isa let out then, a scoff punctuating the word. "Not care, or regret towards the child you abandoned? I'm sorry, I cannot say it surprises me."

"You see," Isadora took a step forwards, the distance between her and the man reduced now to three yards.

"I had already decided the kind of person you would be, and it's comical really, how you seem to fall onto that pedestal," She managed a mock smile. "It was made for you after all."

The man shrugged, smiling as he shook his head. "You will get no atrocity from me at present, Miss Tremaine, regardless of how much you try to rile me. I am here to attend a happy occasion, am I not? Your husband-to-be was kind to extend the invitation."

"Who are you to the family?" Isadora managed the question burning in her chest, dreading the answer with all her might.

The man grinned, as though she had given herself away.

"Fear not, Miss Tremaine, I am not family to the Casimirs, but rather, a good friend and a valuable political alliance."

Isa's chest tightened. A good friend and a valuable political alliance. She would much rather have preferred him to be a distant relation invited only on the grounds of propriety.

"I am the Duke of Basingstoke, Augustus Bennett, from the most prosperous Kingdom of Angria. Say, will you not let me finish my tale?" The man probed, and after receiving no response from her, he continued.

"So, I find my way to your chateau, courtesy of the many directions by the townspeople, and ring in to discover that the lady who adopted the child has only just gone out on a walk with him. I was told the information by the now Princess of Valence. Goodness, how she was dressed then. She looked to me a scullery maid, and now I discover that she was indeed a family member."

Isadora gave him no response, anger tightening in her chest. What had gotten into Cinderella's size two brain for her to relay any information about Isa and Archie to a mere stranger? And why hadn't Isa been told about this stranger upon her return with Archie?

"She invited me in, told me that the mistress of the house was indisposed with a cold. I refused, of course. I shouldn't like to be in a sick woman's parlour on my worst days."

Isa's fingers tightened as she held her hands together at her stomach, not finding the man's light tone and attempts at jests, amusing at all.

"Well, I made to leave then, but stayed around in an attempt to catch a glimpse of your return. I know, how horribly plebeian of me. But it did work, I saw you and the child returning."

The thought of being watched like that did nothing for Isadora. She was used to it all. Still, the realization that it was a man biologically related to Archie doing the watching? That specification alone was unnerving.

"I didn't approach, as you're aware. I did not want to startle you or the child. I left quietly after. You could say-," The man broke off with a shrug. "That I was alright with how things had turned out for the child."

"Was?" Isa picked the word out, her heart clenching.

"You see, Miss Tremaine," The Duke of Basingstoke, expounded, taking a distinct pleasure is being purposeful yet slow with his speech.

"I need an heir for myself."

Isadora swallowed thickly as the man paused, his eyes inspecting her own with an amused intrigue as to her response.

"Do you not have a herd of other illegitimate children you can choose from, your grace?" Isadora managed, keeping her tone tight and her posture firm as she refused to break eye contact.

The man laughed again, this time taking an irritatingly sweet while as he shook his head and made a show of wiping a happy tear from his tear duct.

"I doubt any other woman is as audacious as you in the manner of your speech, Miss Tremaine, though I understand the effects a lady from the likes of your background may be altered with, in the prospect of marriage to a King."

Irritation and anger prickled at Isa's skin, but she held her resolve. The dislike of Prudence-the castle staff at King Reginald's palace in Valence-came back to her in a series of flashes. It was understandable and foreseeable, the objections others might raise to Isadora's union with Zander. Her background was no secret, neither would it remain one. But Archie's background? Ruby Alderidge? Isa would be damned if she let any of that affect hers and Archie's present lives. Archie was not responsible for Ruby Alderidge's mistakes, he would not be held responsible for this man's predatory actions. Mon Dieu, he was just a baby.

"You see," The man continued with a smile as Isa held herself at bay. "My wife died a month or two ago before Ruby would've given birth to the little boy. She was long considered by doctors to be barren, but a few weeks before her death I was told that she was with child. But alas, she was ill and would not last more than a month."

"I need a legitimate heir, but I am in no mind to marry again to acquire one."

"Quite a dilemma," Isadora managed, tilting her head slightly as her sharp gaze remained unblinking, fixated on him.

The Duke grinned. "As you so presume, Miss Tremaine, I do not indeed have a herd of children to choose from. I am not quite as indecent as you blame me to be."

"You are indecent enough, your grace," She shot back, her tone firm as the Duke grinned some more. Isa had the furious urge to lash out on him.

"Be that as it may," The man continued, "I am quite pleased with how the boy has turned out. I'll let you know, Miss Tremaine, that I wouldn't have given a second look to him had you not adopted him and given him a proper upbringing for the limited length of time you have been with him."

"The boy is no longer on the streets," The Duke of Basingstoke raised a pleased brow, "His name is on a sanctioned document by the mayor of Toulouse, and he has been formally adopted. Not to mention that he has become a very proper little gentleman and is much fawned upon by the Queen mother of Angria. In my eyes, he has climbed higher than my own legitimate child could have-had I had one."

"The boy may not have the exact amount of education I would have given to my legitimate child, but that can easily be remedied. After all, he is only four."

Isadora's stomach clenched as fury raged over her. "You have such fantasies, your grace. It would be an utter falsehood to say that it gives me pain to crush them. Archie is my son, and I can only give you leave to keep admiring him afar for however long you want to."

The Duke paused, considering something.

"I need an heir, Miss Tremaine, and that boy is my blood."

If the solitary chandeliers overhead would've crashed down on Isa, it would've hurt less than the words she had heard just now. Archie was this man's blood. Try as she might, Isa could never change the fact of his birth, she would never be able to change who his real mother had been and who his real father was.

Mon Dieu, children hated their parents when they grew up enough for realization, most times. Would Archie despise her for behaving like this to his real father too? Would he want her to make a different choice than the one she was leaning towards and refused to let go of?

No, Isadora screamed at herself. Archie was hers, he could hate her all he wanted to when he grew up, but she would not give him up right now.

"Is that why you're here?" She managed then. "You heard that the King of Angria was getting engaged to me and you saw your chance."

"Say what you want, Miss Tremaine," The man shrugged. "But I don't suppose a man forgets entirely about any child he fathers. He may willfully disregard them, but the forgetting part doesn't come by."

Isadora shut her eyes tightly then, gathering her resolve and pushing back impending tears. She opened her eyes and looked at the Duke again.

"Your grace, please, Archie is my son."

The man shook his head. "Miss Tremaine, had I abandoned the child for more than five years, your case would be valid. But the little boy turns five in more than three months, does he not? Besides, even with the window being so concise, I can raise the claim that Ruby Alderidge-a girl from off the streets-has no right over my child. You do understand that don't you? Everything afterwards will all become invalid. The child's sole custody goes to me, it was mine to begin with too."

It felt as though her heart was repeatedly shattering in her chest, as Isa struggled to maintain eye contact with this man. If he succeeded in taking Archie away from her, then what was all of it for? Every fight she had fought had been for Archie, what did her future matter if her son was not in it?

"No," She blurted out, her voice cracking despite her resolve. "Please, your grace. You didn't want him. I adopted him formally, you can't take him."

The Duke of Basingstoke merely pursed his lips, his eyes full of sharp intrigue as if to see the gradual dismantling of Isadora's composure.

"The mayor of Toulouse will be won over, he will terminate that document in no time if I ask him to."

Isadora's knees shook as she gripped her skirts in desperation and ventured closer to the man, ready to plead with him, her dignity as heavy as lead settling in the pit of her stomach.

"Your grace, please. I can't part with Archie. I can fight this legally. I can ask for the Queen mother and Zander's support, but the process will traumatize Archie, he's just a baby-"

"Are you so sure they will lend their support?" The man raised his brows, "I can't say I have ever seen nor heard either of them vouch for a child born from a prostitute."

Tears sharpened in Isa's eyes, and before she could stop herself, her hand came in contact with the man's cheek as his head whipped slightly to a side. She stepped a step back then, horror in her stomach for having hit a Duke, but she countered it with her fury. Regardless of how powerful he was, he had no right to demean either her deceased friend or Archie after what he had done to both of them.

But he was right, wasn't he? How sure could she even be of Queen Ariana or Zander's support? They seemed to adore Archie, but they knew nothing of where he came from. Would they still adore him if they knew?

The Duke of Basingstoke, Augustus Bennett, slowly met Isadora's eyes again as he lifted his face back to it's usual stance. There was a vicious fury in the older man's eyes, but he was stifling it with his blatant amusement. His jaw tightened by the second, and Isa saw a glimpse in her mind of just how violent this man could be if he was provoked.

"It seems I have upset you, Miss Tremaine," The Duke began, before twisting his lips and considering something. "Let me offer you a proposition that will solve both of our issues, and result in much less distress than we are privy to otherwise."

Isa swallowed thickly, her heart hammering in her chest as she fought to maintain her steady breaths. Everything she had foreseen for herself and Archie was crumbling all round her, and it felt like she was being buried in rubble and ashes while she stood.

"You can marry me, Miss Tremaine," The words spewed out of the man's mouth, and they left Isadora reeling as she sucked in a sharp breath.

"Marry me, and you get to be a proper mother to my child," The Duke raised a brow. "You can still be with him, every second and every minute that you want to. And I will get my desired heir, and a wife too."

Isadora's hands shook violently at her sides, as her heart paralyzed in her chest.

"You said you were in no mind to marry again, your grace," Her voice sounded dead to her own ears, robbed of any sharp edge.

"I did say that," The man shrugged in amusement. "But might I also say that a man's mind is often fickle in such matters? Especially when a woman like you, is facing him, glittering with beauty in a lavish engagement gown."

Then, in her numbness, she didn't sense him moving closer to her until the distance between them was only of a single yard.

Isadora met his eyes, her chest in so much pain that she only felt the pain when she breathed.

"I would not mind having legitimate children with you, Miss Tremaine, maybe then I'll choose my heir out of them and leave darling little Archie be. Would you like that?"

Blinking herself out of her stupor, Isa stepped back, desperation and panic gripping her as she looked at him.

"I-I can't," She shook her head, tears blurring her vision. "I'm marrying Zander. I love him."

The Duke of Basingstoke tsked as he shook his head. He met her eyes again, and his gaze was calculating and hard this time.

"Seems to me, Miss Tremaine, that you love the little boy less and are in a position to let go of him."

A tear tumbled out of her eye. "No! Archie is mine, I will never let go of him."

The man grinned his vicious grin again, but as his lips parted to speak he suddenly went still-frozen like a statue of flesh and bones, with his eyes fixed on her and his expression stuck as it was.

A rustle sounded to Isadora's far left and out from the shadows where the gentle chandelier light was not granting it's reprieve, stepped out the fairy godmother.

The elder woman's face was scrunched up in sympathy, a broken mirror of all the pity Isa had never received from anyone else in her life. The woman's brows were furrowed in the anguish that was transferred second hand, and her lips were bent down to display the heart wrenching sadness that she felt upon witnessing the entirety of the exchange. The fairy tucked her wand into a pocket in a thick soft violet cape she wore, and as the Duke of Basingstoke stood frozen after her intervention, she ventured over to Isadora with thick and short arms outstretched.

"Tell me," Isa managed, tears cascading down her eyes, "In the future you saw, did I abandon Archie for Zander?"

The fairy godmother's eyes were glassy, but the woman stuck her lips together and didn't respond. The sight of her outstretched arms made Isa slump as she dropped to her knees in the cushion of her dress and dropped her face in her hands. The fairy godmother wrapped her thick chubby arms around Isa and held her while she cried, her sobs stifled and muffled.

"I can't abandon Archie," Isadora stammered, "Please tell me I didn't have to choose between Archie and Zander, fairy godmother."

"My dear," The woman spoke, her voice low, heavy and sympathetic as she held Isa in an embrace. "My darling dear, if the future me and the other fairies saw is not upheld by the choices made in the present, the disruption will be terrible indeed for all the major kingdoms."

"What is that supposed to mean?" Isadora cried, wiping carefully under her eyes with the back of her hand as she looked at the fairy godmother.

"You keep saying things that don't make sense," She uttered, her voice breaking. "Please, fairy godmother, my heart is hurting."

"Darling," The fairy godmother cupped Isa's face in her palms. "I cannot say more than I absolutely have to. But know this, if King Alexander Casimir doesn't have you at his side, then there will be no winning the forthcoming war. If you don't become the Queen of Angria, there will be no other Queen, and there will be no saving the kingdoms from the choices that Alexander Casimir will make during the war."

"I don't care about the war!" Isa let out, "Why should I care about a war when my son is being torn away from me? Why should I abandon him just so the future you saw plays out?"

The fairy godmother frowned, a tear shining in her beady eyes as she leaned in to press her lips briefly against Isadora's forehead.

"My dear, you must not make choices that impact the future that we fairies saw," She spoke softly. "Lives are at stake. Ours, yours. Entirety of the kingdoms will fall if the dreaded opponent takes over. Bloodshed and violence will taint the world as we know it, because this war is not empire against empire, it is something entirely else."

"In the future we saw, Alexander Casimir is all powerful. The Kingdom of Angria is all powerful because of him. He is the one who will save the world as we know it, with his limitless strength. But he needs to be stable in order to do so, he needs to have you at his side, my dear, or his wrath and decisions will burn everything down."

Isadora shook her head, tears cascading down her face again. "Then help me, if all this is so precarious for everyone else too, help me. Help me choose both Archie and Zander. I can't choose one over the other, because it will kill me."

The woman stilled slightly, then letting go of Isa's face, she stood up. "I can't interfere, my dear. I don't see anything that I can do to make this easier for you except letting you know what would happen if you don't make the right choices."

"Fairy godmother, please," Isadora sobbed then, bringing her hands together and holding onto herself as she peered at the elder fairy, her vision blurry.

"Trust yourself, Isadora, and have strength," The elder fairy let out forcefully, not meeting Isa's eyes as she turned away. "You have five minutes, my dear, before the Duke of Basingstoke returns to his senses."

Then, the woman vanished out of sight, and a last phrase reverberated in Isa's ears after the fairy had gone.

"I will not leave you alone, my dear."

***

A/N:
It was my birthday a few days ago and I wanted to finish writing this chapter and post it then, but law school didn't let me</3 anyway, i hope you liked this chapter!! thankyou for 2K on this book, i'm so grateful!