The next day, the grand halls of the Northern Empire's palace, Ezra, were abuzz with activity. News had spread quickly that Prince Mateo of the Southern Empire was making a stopover on his way back to his kingdom. The reason for his visit was no secret—Empress Lamaine had arranged a grand welcoming party in his honor, and for his fiancée, Heather, who was heavily pregnant and near her due date.
The palace was decorated to perfection, with elegant tapestries and fresh flowers adorning every corner. The scent of blooming roses and lavender wafted through the corridors, mingling with the rich aroma of the feast being prepared in the kitchens. Servants rushed about, making final adjustments to the table settings and ensuring that everything was perfect for the evening's event.
Mateo and Heather arrived at the palace in a lavishly adorned carriage, the emblem of the Southern Empire gleaming proudly on its side. As they stepped out, they were greeted by a contingent of royal guards dressed in the deep blue and gold of the Northern Empire. Their arrival had been anticipated, and a crowd of courtiers and dignitaries had gathered to witness the event.
Empress Lamaine herself stood at the entrance, her regal demeanor commanding attention. Her sharp eyes took in the sight of Heather, noting the slight waddle in her step, the way her hand rested protectively on her swollen belly. A flicker of something crossed the Empress's face, but it was gone before anyone could notice.
"Prince Mateo, Lady Heather," Empress Lamaine greeted them with a practiced smile. "Welcome to Northern Empire Ezra. It's been a year, we are honored by your visit again."
Mateo returned the greeting with a nod, his expression courteous but distant. "Thank you for the warm welcome, Empress Lamaine. We appreciate your hospitality."
Heather, on the other hand, forced a smile as she curtsied slightly. She was exhausted from the journey, her body aching from the strain of carrying the child, but she knew better than to show any weakness in front of the Empress. "It is an honor to be here, Your Majesty," she said, her voice soft but steady.
The Empress's eyes lingered on Heather's belly for a moment, a calculating look flashing in them before she stepped forward. "You must be weary from your travels. Please, let us make you comfortable before the festivities begin."
With a graceful gesture, Lamaine led them into the palace, the grand doors closing behind them with a resounding thud. The party was set to begin in just a few hours, and the guests of honor were ushered to their quarters to rest and prepare.
As they walked through the opulent halls, Mateo glanced at Heather, his expression unreadable. "How are you feeling?" he asked, his tone lacking the warmth that one might expect from a concerned fiancé.
Heather swallowed, her hand instinctively going to her belly. "Tired," she admitted, though there was more to it than just physical exhaustion. The weight of her secret was growing heavier by the day. Mateo had been distant throughout her pregnancy, and she could sense his frustration. He had been patient, but his patience was wearing thin.
"Just a little longer," Mateo said, though whether he was reassuring her or himself, Heather couldn't tell. "Once the child is born, things will settle down."
Heather nodded, though she wasn't sure she believed him. The truth was, she was terrified. The closer she got to her due date, the more real the possibility became that Mateo would discover the truth. She had been careful, but there were things even she couldn't control.
As they reached their chambers, Mateo paused, his gaze hardening as he looked at Heather. "You need to be on your best behavior tonight, Heather. Empress Lamaine is not someone you want to cross."
Heather stiffened at his words. "I understand," she said, though the unease in her chest grew stronger.
Mateo studied her for a moment longer before nodding curtly. "Good. I'll see you at the banquet."
With that, he turned and left her standing in the hallway, her heart pounding in her chest. She watched him go, feeling more alone than ever. This visit was supposed to solidify their alliance, to show the strength of their union, but all she could think about was the secret she was hiding from him.
As she entered her chamber, Heather couldn't shake the feeling that she was walking on a razor's edge. The looming banquet, the scrutiny of the Northern court, and most of all, the presence of Empress Lamaine—it all weighed heavily on her.
Heather sat down on the edge of the bed, her hands trembling slightly. She had come too far to back down now, but the fear gnawed at her.
But there was no escape. She had to see this through, for the sake of the child she was carrying—the child who would secure her place by Axel's side, no matter the cost.
Heather took a deep breath, trying to steady her nerves. The evening would be a test, and she couldn't afford to fail. She had to keep up the facade, to play the role she had been given. There was too much at stake to let her fear get the better of her.
As she prepared for the banquet, her thoughts kept returning to Mateo's words. She had to be on her best behavior, but more importantly, she had to keep her secret safe. The consequences of failure were too great to contemplate.
The sound of footsteps in the hallway snapped her out of her reverie. It was time to face the court, to play her part in the grand game of politics and power. With one last glance at her reflection, Heather straightened her posture and steeled herself for the night ahead.
No matter what happened, she had to keep her secret. She had to protect the future she had fought so hard to secure. And most of all, she had to survive the night in the lion's den.
Turning a corner, Heather almost collided with a figure she hadn't expected to see—Theo, Axel's younger brother. His presence was imposing, and the resemblance to Axel was striking, almost unnervingly so. Theo's sharp features were a mirror of Axel's, but where Axel carried an air of cold determination, Theo's expression was one of barely contained anger.
"Heather," Theo said, his voice low and controlled, but the fury beneath it was palpable.