xxxiv.

THE SIGHT OF FAMILIAR SURROUNDINGS—THE SIGHT of her new home, were a balm to the tortured psyche of The Queen of Angria's anxious heart.

The gleaming chandeliers lined up on the ceilings, the thick crimson velvet curtains framing every glittering tall glass window encasing the walls, the thick yet smooth royal carpets underneath her feet, the scent of pristine polish and hydrangeas encapsulating the palace atmosphere, the ancestral portraits adorning the walls etched in gilded edges that she could spent hours looking upon. All this Isadora had seen in glimpses when she arrived, the battering of her heart softening on relief like a gushing waterfall meeting a steady stream.

Her focus had quickly turned to the injured nobleman at her side, a half body she didn't know how she was supporting. Had it not been for the creature of Heraum lending another shoulder—though quite a shorter one—her own startled and weak form would've been no good to Sir Henri alone.

Upon her appearance at the palace, she had fortunately come across the rushing form of Zander's advisor Eugene Flammant. The tall man had been rushing somewhere, two footmen on his heels as the pristine man's tail coat flapped behind him, his white powdered wig gelled to perfection despite the anxious disposition Isadora had caught him in.

She remembered his sharp gasp, she remembered him dropping to his knees in front of her while the footmen had dropped into bows of their own. Eugene Flammant had thanked whatever he could in bold declarations, before quickly taking charge and assigning the two footmen to the care of the injured nobleman Sir Henri Bernard, and—with a certain hesitancy—the creature that the Queen of Angria had brought along, before he assigned himself to the Queen's care, ushering her to her chambers and calling out for whichever maids he could on the way.

"The Queen mother is away with Prince Archie, your majesty," Eugene's words were now in her ears, as she sat in the bathtub of the bathroom, the water mixed with cow's milk and doused in haphazard flower petals, a remedy to aid Isadora's skin and countenance after the trails she had had.

Eugene Flammant had insisted upon the cure, and as three maids had gotten together to separate fresh bouquets and dunk the petals into her milk bath, Isadora hadn't had the power to resist, all her focus fixed on the whereabouts of her family.

"She insisted that the little Prince needed to be distracted after what happened," The royal advisor continued, "So she has taken him to her Angrian countryside retreat. They are safe and sound. Do not worry, your majesty, I have sent along all the security needed. The Queen mother intended to return once you were found and The King sent word. With the attacks on the borders increasing by the second, The King has been utterly desperate to find you while simultaneously protecting the borders."

Borders. Sir Henri Bernard had spoken of The Kingdom of Valence being rampaged, which meant that The King of Angria had the border between Valence and Angria to also guard as profusely.

Isadora's heart clenched, it seemed to her that her that the event of her wedding had only speeded all the calamity.

"Where is The King now?" She asked, letting a maid rub a healing mixture of essential oils on the back of her neck.

"His majesty is at the border, your majesty," Flammant hastened, "He only came back to the palace momentarily hours after you both disappeared from the church. He had a meeting with the fairies of the kingdoms which I was not made privy to, but it was regarding your whereabouts and those of the sixth fairy Ferdinand. Afterwards, his majesty dispersed the fairies and left for the border then, and has not yet returned."

Isadora's heart throbbed in her chest. Sir Henri's present condition was enough for her to be terrified for Zander. What if he was hurt the same? Or worse?

She couldn't understand what to think of his meeting with the fairies. Could he have finally allied with them? Or had it been just so that he could acquire the information he wanted from them?

"Speak to Sir Henri Bernard, Eugene," Isadora spoke then, "He fought for Valence at the border, he can perhaps help with what he knows of the Heraum army."

"Yes, your majesty," The royal advisor bowed his head briefly, before a hesitancy flickered in his eyes as he parted his lips reluctantly to speak.

"Your majesty..," He cleared he throat, "What of the creature that accompanied you?"

Isadora tucked a wet piece of her hair behind her ear as one of the maids directed the advisor to turn away. The Queen of Angria stood up then after the man turned away swiftly, and a warm towel was quickly wrapped around her body as she was helped out of the tub.

"Keep watch over him," She managed as Flammant remained turned away, his back to her.

"He has possibly helped us finish this war," She continued, thinking of Ferdinand's wand where she had left it hidden in a drawer by the bed, alongside fairy godmother's wand.

"I need you to find the fairy godmother for me," Isadora added then, as a silk slip was pulled on her body.

"I have something that can help us. We shall fight and finish this Ferdinand, while The King and his men fight the magician's army. I doubt the illusionist would have any control over the Heraum once we're done with him."

The royal advisor turned back towards her, questions inkling in his eyes. "But your majesty, his majesty intends to keep you away from all this. He intended to find you and keep you safe, perhaps to send you to the Queen mother and Prince Archie at the countryside retreat. I should send word to him of your safe return immediately, he wouldn't want you to insert yourself—"

"No, Eugene," Isa blurted out, haste etching her tone as she realized of the truth in the advisor's words. 

If Zander found out she was safe and sound, he would force her to stay away from this war. He would berate himself for not protecting her as he had promised her time and time again, and as a result he would do everything remaining to shield her from all this. 

But there was once this prophecy she had been told, The King of Angria would win the war, but he would need her by his side. Isadora hadn't ever truly understood the extent of her role. She had made up meanings of it, but she had never seen it as clearly as she did now. She had Ferdinand's wand—she had the wand of the magician who was controlling a mighty Heraum army against all the kingdoms and their people. Surely a powerful magician was not good without his wand, and surely this is where her role lay. 

"Do not inform Zander yet, nor The Queen mother or the Prince," She uttered, "I need you to find the fairy godmother for me first, she was one of the fairies that Zander met with. She wears a blue cloak. I have her wand so I do not know how she will realize that I'm looking for her, or how she will appear. Which is why you need to search for her and bring her to me as soon as possible."

"Yes, your majesty, your wish is my command," The man dropped into an elaborate curtsey, before slowly straightening to his full height. 

"Oh and your majesty, the royalty of Valence is present at the palace currently," The man added, "Upon orders by the King, the family is being sheltered in our palace, along with some of their staff, in aftermath of The Kingdom of Valence being rampaged. Further, your mother and sister are present too, they have been at the palace since the night of your wedding in the aftermath of your disappearance." 

Isadora exhaled slowly, not looking forward presently to coming face to face with either her family or the royal family of Valence. She pushed her discomfort away and managed a nod. 

Flammant turned to leave, before he halted and spun back to face her. "Ah, your majesty, I realize this is no time to bring this to your attention, but might I remind you that as Queen of Angria, you need to appoint your ladies in waiting. I have prepared a shortlist of eligible noble ladies from the noblest of Angrian families for your ease and attention when-so-ever you have the time to go over—"

"Alright, Eugene, I will keep that in mind, thank you," Isadora dismissed him, slightly taken aback by the idea that he had presented. Truly, the realization that she was a Queen now would never cease to end, and it would get startling each time she was reminded of it. 

Her heart ached for Zander's presence by her side, but if he found out that she was safe, he wouldn't let her help him through this war, and Isadora needed to do all she could. 

After the royal advisor's leave, The Queen of Angria was dressed in the spacious royal chambers that she and The King would take up. The regality of everything around her was so exquisite that Isa could almost not focus on the maids helping put up and adorn her hair and fasten her dress at her back. She forced her eyes away from the gilded furniture and the lavish bed, bringing her ebony orbs onto her own image in the vanity mirror. She seemed to glow golden underneath the light of the giant glittering chandelier adorning the ceiling of the chambers. 

When the maids finished, a glamorous emerald necklace fastening at the back of her neck and it's glint reflecting the gorgeous emerald of the gleaming brocade gown that she wore, Isadora got up and dismissed them, watching the girls leave after low curtseys presented her way. She watched them take away her bloodied and dirty wedding dress with a heavy heart, not knowing whether it could be saved or would have to be thrown away. 

Isa touched the back of her head lightly, watching herself in the mirror one last time before she too exited the royal chambers and headed down the hallway. The clocks in the hallway struck eight at night, which was the time Flammant had asked her to join dinner in the dining hall, for it seemed that King Reginald—being previously the only King present at the Angrian palace in Zander's absence—preferred to have dinner at eight instead of the seven that Zander and his mother, and Isa herself, preferred. 

Unbeknownst to Isadora, the footmen lining the hallways she walked through, with their backs against the walls, relaxed serenely as she whisked past, as though her mere presence in the palace had wiped the thoughts of the war being waged at the borders away from their minds, replacing the anxiety with a perfumed relief and gratitude. Perhaps it was the knowledge of the presence of an Angrian royal back in the palace, or perhaps it was just Isadora, her familiar beauty and grace appearing in the darkness and casting the strength of hope where shadows had previously overtaken it. 

Isadora approached the dining hall, watching it glitter at the end of the final hallway in her journey. She could hear muffled conversations floating over the clinking of glass and porcelain as she neared the hall. If her return had already been announced by the royal advisor, then the guests were at present merely drinking drinks before and waiting for her for the start of the meal, or perhaps they had already started. Isadora couldn't at present think of the correct protocol for such a thing.

She thought of Zander then, this would be her first dinner after their wedding and she was to face it alone, without him by her side. She was to face both their families alone, with neither him nor The Queen mother nor Archie present at the table to ease her. A sharp ache escalated in her eyes and she had to halt for a second to regain her composure. 

After all, everything would soon be alright. Once the fairy godmother comes, Isadora would decided how to defeat Ferdinand with his own wand, aided by the fairy godmother's expertise on magical matters. The war would ease then, the Heraum army would have no one to control them and they could be overtaken. Everything would soon be alright. 

With this in mind, Isa stepped into the dining hall, and saw the boisterous atmosphere on the dining table. She saw the familiar figures whose presences she had been made aware of by Eugene Flammant, and she saw then indulged in eating and talking to each other in pairs of twos and threes, an obvious conversational distance in between Isa's mother and sister and the royal family of the Kingdom of Valence. 

Watching them from where she stood, their regal attires glinting like the utensils gripped in between their fingers, one could assume that there existed no calamity raging on the borders. No war to be won. The dinner seemed as though it was being held in a separate sphere, away from everything destructive but tinted with the prejudice of individual societal norms seeping in. 

"Your majesty!" The royal Angrian butler exclaimed as he spotted her, shocker reverberating in is tone as he dropped into a bow. Isa realized then that the news of her arrival at the palace hadn't made rounds just yet. 

It was understandable, for Eugene Flammant had already been saddled with orders by her. The man wouldn't have had the time to announce her arrival properly. 

The conversation at the dining table ceased as everyone turned to look at her. The footmen and servers all dropped into bows, and for a moment the room seemed to freeze. Beside the Butler's form, Isadora saw the familiar figure of Prudence, The head of castle staff at King Reginald's palace. Her hair was pulled tight into a small knot at the top of her head, her simple gown plain and modest, but her bony fingered nails plastered with the same sharp red color as Isa remembered them. The woman too was encased in an elaborate curtsey, and Isadora didn't spare her a glance, being fully aware of the contrite effort of the woman's curtsey towards her. 

Isa gestured for the butler to straighten, and as the others slowly straightened as well, the man immediately guided her to the chair at the close head of the dining table where she would be seated with Lady Tremaine at her right, and King Reginald at her left. It was just like her mother, Isa supposed, to seat herself right across a King, even in midst of war. 

"Oh my dear, we had been so worried!" Lady Tremaine was the first to speak, standing until Isadora had taken her own seat. 

"I was almost out of my wits, thank goodness you are safe! Oh what a stunning gown you are wearing—and those jewels! Oh, being the Queen of Angria really does suit you, my dear!" 

The emphasis on her title was done willingly and with abject intent in mind, for it was too obvious to miss with the way that Isa's mother had spoken it. Then the woman—suppressing an intentful smile slowly lowered herself into her own chair. After all, the present guests at the table indeed were the Lady Tremaine's stepdaughter turned scullery maid turned Princess of Valence, and the Prince that the woman had initially intended for her own daughter. 

"I am alright mother, as you can see," Isa managed, finding the familiar distaste inside her for her mother's ways, regardless still, the woman's face and presence proved to be a slight comfort. 

"How are you? And Lucinda?" 

Isadora eyed her younger sister as she spoke, the girl stuffing her face with lamb as the puffy and frilly orange dress she wore swallowed half of her body whole, reminding Isadora oddly of Sir Henri's own condition. The girl offered a reluctant shrug and smile, before indulging into the rest of the sauced lamb on her plate. 

"We have been quite good, my dear," Lady Tremaine spoke, sipping her glass of a fizzy drink. "Your new home is as hospitable as always." 

Isa nodded once, before turning to look at King Reginald, a wave of satisfaction washing over her suddenly as she thought back to the time when in his palace he had taken a while of his own to acknowledge the waiting forms of Isa and of Archie while he had gushed all the while over Cinderella, leaving Isadora's heart beating erratically in anxiety and discomfort, her neck aching as she had kept her gaze fixed on the ground. This was no revenge, but still it gave her a feeling of satisfaction and gratitude for her own new place in life. 

"Your majesty," She addressed the King, smiling briefly as she did so. "How are you? I trust you and your family have been finding strength to recover from your ordeal?" 

As she eyed the eager form of The King Reginald and his son The Prince Charming, both men seated with Cinderella in between them, Isa felt a distinct frustration prickle at her. Their kingdom had been attacked, border crossed and people endangered, yet the first thing they had done was to flea to seek refuge in the Angrian palace. Zander was out fighting and defending the borders, why should everything be left to him? Why should he be out there getting injured and tired and defending and fighting with his every breath while The King of Valence and his son had relaxing dinners at the Angrian palace?

It made Isa furious suddenly. For the royalty of other kingdoms were defending and fighting for their own borders were they not? 

Growing up in Valence, Isadora was used to thinking highly of it's royalty, but at present, she couldn't bring herself to respect them as she once had. Perhaps some people only deserved respect as long as you didn't see or know them. 

"Ah, yes," The King spoke after a pause, clearing his throat as Isa saw him visible clam up. She hadn't outright hinted at the embarrassment of the royal family's, still, King Reginald seemed to be dwelling on it for him to have suspected it so quickly. 

"We have been recovering, thanks to my nephew," The man continued, before bring his own glass of a fizzy drink that Isa had not yet tasted, to his own lips. 

"Isadora," A another voice spoke up hastily then, and Isa's eyes found Cinderella's, the blonde girl seated next to the King dressed in a mauve colored gown with pearls glinting at her delicate neck and ears. 

"Your majesty," She corrected herself under the gaze of everyone else present at the table. 

The butler gestured for a footman to start serving Isa, and the Queen of Angria glanced away from her stepsister to the plate in front of her, wondering if Zander had eaten anything at all since she'd been taken. Her heart clenched at the thought, and she wanted nothing more than to leave this table, get some footmen to arrange a carriage for her and take her to the border—wherever Zander was at present, just so she could see if he was alright, to hold him for just a moment. 

"We are honestly so grateful that you are alright, it was unfortunate what happened," Cinderella spoke, gesturing vaguely with a thin wrist. "Everything that is happening. Yours and The King of Angria's hospitality is our saving grace, and I do believe King Alexander is our world's saving grace against this war." 

Isadora didn't answer, only met Cinderella's eyes briefly, before turning to look at the footman and gesturing for him to stop after he had finished filling her plate but only half filled her glass of drink. 

Lady Tremaine, no longer unnerved but still finding it her duty to speak where her eldest daughter had refused to, answered Cinderella with a schooled grin on her features. 

"Indeed, dear," The lady mused, trying to hold her old distaste for the girl at bay with much effort, "My son-in-law is courageous and with his strength and benevolence, we shall surely succeed against the barbarians."

"We shall," The Prince Charming added exchanging a smile with his wife as Cinderella briefly leaned her head over his shoulder. 

"Those barbarians," Lucinda Tremaine spoke then, muttering as though she was speaking to herself in a daze. "Those hideous, ugly things!" 

A low hum of approval went around the table at that insignificant observation, from all the mouths who had not even yet seen the creatures up close. 

Isadora took hold of a golden spoon and tried to eat, finding her stomach yearning for the food on her plate but her heart rebelling against it, making the entire idea of food sickening. Isa couldn't understand then how everyone else here found no qualms in filling up their plates and devouring it. How could they all, when common people were probably dying by the minute in The Kingdom of Valence, terrorized by the vicious Heraum. Not to mention the fighters and soldiers, who would wind up like Sir Henri Bernard, broken and battered? 

"Please!" Isadora let out then, realization seeping into her as she called out to the butler who stood on stand by, arms pinned behind his back. 

"My guest," Isa collected herself, "Sir Henri Bernard, he was assigned a chamber and is under care of some footmen. Please make sure he is fed dinner." 

"Yes, your majesty," The butler dipped into a bow. 

"I do have another guest as well," The Queen of Angria continued, "Please make sure he is fed as well, I have instructed Eugene for the guest's constant care and surveillance—" 

Suddenly, Lucinda Tremaine shrieked in horror, and Isadora lost her train of speech like it had crashed into an active mine and burst into flames. Isa looked at her sister, her heart battering in her chest. When exactly had her younger sister's abhorrent screams become a premonition for darkness? For Isa only remembered such a premonition the night of her wedding, and it had been true, had it not? 

But the scream was then joined in by shrieks of other voices, and in glimpses Isadora saw Cinderella scream, along with Lady Tremaine as the latter let out something akin to a horrified howl and pushed her chair back in shock. 

Every eye was fixed on the entrance to the dining hall, all their horror directed towards it as everyone abandoned their plates for the gaping moment. Lucinda Tremaine leapt onto the dining table clutching her skirts high as though the floor was suddenly plagued by rats or was doused in lava. 

Isadora turned her eyes to follow everyone else's just a second before shouts broke amongst the footmen and the butler panicked, calling upon the palace guards in a loud voice as the called for men started spilling into the hall, weapons raised high. 

"Stop!" Isadora cried as she stood up, a footman pulling her chair back to aid her, freezing the entire hall with her voice. 

She made her way towards the creature of the Heraum, the short creature having slouched underneath all the terror the sight of him had suddenly evoked. It gave the sense that he wasn't used to such a thing, for indeed he was considered the most harmless out of his brethren, was he not? He held himself as though he was but a rag pinned upon a hook to dry, just to be used to wipe dirty surfaces again later. The realization of it all made Isa's heart heavy with her sympathy as she approached him. 

"Is everything alright?" She managed softly, not knowing what else to say. "Have you been fed? I asked the royal advisor to put you under care—"

To her surprise then, the creature—his short, hunched over frame bursting with the green of his muscle and the dirty rags he wore for clothes—stepped nearer to her and met his pitch black almond shaped eyes with hers, before looking over his shoulder urgently towards the hallway he had come from. Isadora looked behind him, following his gaze, finding only the empty hallway she too had taken on her way to the dining hall. 

"Oh, it is despicable!" Lucinda Tremaine whisper-yelled from the table, where she stood atop on the surface, trampling dishes of food underneath her heels.

"How did it get into the castle?" King Reginald uttered then, disbelief and fear in his voice. "My God, has Angria been compromised too?" 

"It must be a spy of theirs," Prince Charming put forth, "Someone sent to infiltrate and gather information first, before the army attacks!" 

"Oh, hopefully not," Cinderella managed, adding her voice to the mix of panicked ones. "Perhaps it is a stray? Perhaps it got lost?" 

"Get rid of it, Isadora!" Lady Tremaine exclaimed then, "Guards, guards! What are you standing there gaping for? Get rid of this thing! Kill it!" 

Isadora tried to drown out their voices, focusing on the manner of the creature. He was obviously trying to tell her something, or perhaps show her. What has occurred?

"Catch it and kill it, you fools!" Lady Tremaine continued with vigor, "Kill the hideous devil. Take a knife and cut it's head off! Slice it into a thousand bits! Let this animal die a painful, agonizing, hideous death!" 

"Mother!" Isadora cried, shocked, as she turned to look at the woman. 

"Oh, Quiet child!" Lady Tremaine waved a hand in frustration. "You know of what it's kind has done to us! If it's a spy then it's better off killed!" 

"Comport yourself mother! I will decide that," Isadora managed, firming her voice as her mother's anger schooled itself, her jaw tightening as she gave in to that statement. 

Isa turned to look at the creature then, who met her eyes again with his dark marble like ones and glanced back towards the hallway urgently. 

"Lead the way," She whispered to him, and the creature turned to start walking towards the hallway. 

"All of you, stay in the dining hall," Isadora spoke over her shoulder. "Continue the dinner, there is no need to panic at present. The butler and the footmen will keep serving." 

Muffled whispers were exchanged in between the dining party, but no one protested audibly. Isadora approached one of the guards who had come pouring in upon the commotion. 

"The rest of the guards will stay here, do not let anyone leave until I say so," She instructed to him in a low voice as the man nodded. 

Then she looked at another guard. "You can come with me, please." 

"Yes, your majesty," The guard nodded, falling into step behind her as she hurried to follow the creature who was almost halfway through the hallway by now, thinking that she was right behind him.  

The creature led her through the hallway and onto the ground floor in the grand foyer, where Isa saw the palace doors wide open, the blinding night encased outside as she glimpsed the darkened and subtly moonlit palace gardens outside. The moon she could see hidden behind a gently glowing cloud, and she deduced the thing to be no more than a crescent with it's gentle light. 

In the foyer however, two palace guards stood erect, pointing their loaded rifles towards a wrinkled old woman clad in a darkened greying cloak, splayed on her knees on the gleaming marble floor in front of the open doors. Isadora heard the woman's hysterical, shaking sobs as she shook her head in disbelief and dismay, eyes pinned to the ground and head bent as though it carried the worst of the world's burdens. Isadora heard the guard she had brought along, cock his own rifle in a measure of caution. 

"What in the world is happening here?" Isa managed, shocked at what she was seeing, her hand gripping the intricate railing on the staircase as she started stepping down.

Upon her audible voice, the two guards instantly looked up to her and away from the woman, and the creature beside Isa—just as instantaneously—hid behind her skirts, as though worried that the guards would direct their anger towards him next. Which they tried to, for the sight of the grisly creature at their Queen's skirts was enough for them to waver in the direction their rifles were pointed. 

"Your majesty!" One of those guards changed the target of his rifle, pointing it at Isa's skirts. 

"Oh, never mind him!" Isadora exclaimed, directing attention away from the creature, "What are you doing to this poor old woman?" 

At being mentioned, the old woman lifted up her face with slow and conscious effort, wrinkled beady eyes catching the form of The Queen of Angria at the foot of the grand staircase, just yards away from her. 

"My, what a beautiful sight you are, dearie." 

Isadora watched the dangling skin at the woman's sun darkened face as she spoke those words to her, the dryness of her frail neck, the wisps of dry silver hair poking out from underneath the dirty thin cloak she wore and covered her head with. Her lips were gray and shriveled, and the thin wrinkled skin at her cheeks seemed to shake just as much as the woman's shoulders did. Isa saw the trails of wetness underneath the old woman's eyes, and it was then that she made out the redness of her beady eyes. 

"She wouldn't go, your majesty," One of the two guards spoke. "She kept banging at the door wanting to be let in."

"She wouldn't say what she wanted, my Queen," The other guard added, "Orders from His majesty King Alexander entail that no one is to be let into the palace if they are not the royal family. Nobles and commons with the need to see the King, or any other messages are to be turned away." 

"But you have let her in?" Isadora's ebony eyes pinned themselves on the second guard, who faltered under her resolve. 

"My Queen, we supposed if we only scared her, she would run off." 

"Scare me?" The old woman let out then, her voice heavy and high in her melancholic excitement as she scoffed. "Who are you and your weapons to scare me when I have lived the terrors of this life thrice the years you have existed, boy." 

"Shut it, you old hag," The guard uttered, spitting at the woman, who turned her face away fruitlessly as the act of the guard's hit her right in her face. 

Isadora looked at her side, finding the creature's eyes pinned to the old woman. He no longer looked at Isadora, wanting to show her something like he had been wanting before. His eyes were instead fixed on the scene happening before them, and Isa realized that this scene was what she was meant to see. But why? Who was this woman? 

"Stop this," She let out, her angry eyes on the guard who had spat on the old woman, and the man in turned bent his head. 

"You will regret this," The old woman spoke, her voice directed towards the man. "You will pay for mistreating me so." 

"Please," Isadora softened her voice, turning to the old woman. "I apologize on his behalf. What is it that you are in need of? Shelter? Food? I'm sure we can help you." 

The old hag smiled then, fury vanishing from her face and molding into an overt sweetness that took Isa by surprise as the woman met Isadora's ebony eyes. 

"Your majesty, I need nothing from you," The woman began slowly, a glint in her beady eyes as the tears on her face dried, "I only came here to bring you an urgent message." 

"A message?" Isa took a step forwards, "From who?" 

"It doesn't come from a who, benevolent Queen of Angria," The woman mused, the melancholy in her manner entirely gone. Isadora couldn't fathom then, why the woman was crying. 

"It comes from a what," The old hag dug slowly inside her darkened cloak and pulled out a glass ball that fit inside her bony wrinkled palm perfectly. 

"See inside, my Queen, see what it has to show you." 

Isadora watched the crystal ball, her heart thudding in her chest. She saw nothing inside the glass except for the bottom on the old woman's palm, but then, color emerged inside the glass and took over the entire ball. A cacophony of blue swirling inside like ink being dissolved in water. Inside the ink, Isadora saw Zander.

He was lying on the ground, smoke all round him. His breathing was labored, and men were fighting and running all around him, nobody bothering to check up on the King of Angria. She saw glimpses of the horrific forms of the Heraum raging around. She saw the beasts breaking men like twigs—Angrian men, the men from the armies of other kingdoms who had possibly been lent to The King of Angria for battle aid. Isadora cried out, bringing her palms to her mouth. She spotted Zander's entire chest covered in blood, she saw darkened holes on his chest as though he had been a victim of a dozen bullets, she saw his arm twisted in an inhumane manner. His hair was stuck to his forehead, and his eyes were closed, unmoving. Then she saw a man—dressed in Angrian nobility attire—rush over towards Zander, drop to his knees, and desperately search him for signs of life, before the man stopped searching and hung his head in dismay. 

The image vanished then, and Isa saw nothing more in the glass. 

"No," She cried out, meeting the woman's beady eyes. "No, please. This can't be. This can't be." 

To her horror, she found an underlying grin encasing the woman's face. Where was all her melancholy from before? What had she even cried for, The King being injured and possibly dead, or her own misery?

"Please, tell me this is not true!" Isa cried, tears stinging her own eyes as they poured heavily down her cheeks. 

Zander was supposed to win this war, he was supposed to be victorious. He wasn't supposed to die, he wasn't supposed to leave her like this. Was everything over? Had the Angrian army lost? Had the Heraum and Ferdinand prevailed even without the magician's wand? Mon Dieu, was Zander gone forever? Would she never hold him again, touch him again, kiss him again? Would she never be able to tell him how much she loved him, ever again? What would she say to Archie? How would The Queen mother feel? 

Isadora fell onto her knees in front of the old woman, her hands clutching her chest as her heart shattered inside of her and she fought to breathe. 

"I'm afraid this is true," The old woman spoke slowly, putting her crystal ball away inside her cloak.

"You witch!" One of the guards shouted, pointing the rifle at the woman again, but the woman was unfazed. 

"I can reverse this, your majesty," She spoke carefully then, briefly eyeing the guard before fixing her eyes on Isadora again. 

Isa looked up at the woman, her chest hurting painfully and her mind numb. 

"I merely want you to have a taste of this for me in return," The old hag then dug into the inside of the cloak again, and pulled out a crimson apple clutched carefully in midst of her bony fingers as she held it out towards Isadora. 

"An apple?" Isa breathed, her broken voice barely above a whisper and still cracking in her distress. 

 "A taste of my apple in return for The King of Angria's life," The old woman uttered, her beady eyes unblinking as they observed Isadora with fervor. 

"A fair bargain, dearie, is it not?" 

The Queen of Angria wiped at her tears with the back of her wrist in vain, for they kept streaming down her face. Then, her blurry eyes fixed on the gleaming red apple in the old woman's hand, and Isadora's desperate numb mind called out to her and she obeyed, slowly reaching for it as though she was now a dead marionette, being controlled by the words and notions other people spewed, for her own heart and rational mind lay in butchered pieces inside her body.