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On the eastern wing of the castle, Lamia sprinted through the dimly lit halls, his breath ragged and shallow. His usually immaculate hair was in disarray, and the panic in his midnight blue eyes was unmistakable. The weight of failure gnawed at his spirit—he had already lost his parents and sister in the cruel tides of fate. Losing Catherine and their unborn children was not a history he could bear repeating.
Ignoring the disapproving murmurs of courtiers, Lamia made his way to the chambers of Queen Fiona Chambers. If anyone could provide help, it would be her. As he approached her door, the guards stationed outside raised their hands to block his entry.
"Her Majesty is resting and cannot be disturbed," one guard said sternly, his voice unwavering.
"Sorry, but this is important," Lamia shot back, his voice cracking with urgency. Without waiting for a reply, he shoved the guard aside with a force that surprised even him. The unfortunate guard crashed into a pile of stones, groaning in pain. Lamia barely noticed, his mind consumed by the impending disaster. A fleeting thought crossed his mind: Is this my power awakening? But he shoved it aside—there was no time.
Queen Fiona, startled from her midday siesta, sat up abruptly, rubbing her eyes. Her pale golden gown shimmered faintly in the sunlight streaming through the tall windows.
"Good heavens!" she exclaimed, her voice a blend of irritation and surprise. "Can't a queen have a moment of peace? Even you, Lamia—what could possibly warrant this intrusion?"
Lamia dropped to his knees, his hands trembling as they reached for her feet. "Granny, forgive me, but it's Catherine. She's been kidnapped. Magic is at play—I can feel it. You know what that means."
Fiona's expression turned grim as she shot up from her seat. The gravity of the situation settled over her like a storm cloud. "What? Catherine, taken? In my castle? By magic?" Her voice was sharp, cutting through the tension in the room. "The soon-to-be mother of my great-grandchildren missing? No—this cannot stand."
Her eyes blazed with fury, and Lamia felt a flicker of relief. Fiona's wrath was legendary, her punishments brutal. If anyone could restore order, it was her.
"Who dares breach my palace to commit such an atrocity?" Fiona continued, pacing the room. "They shall be mummified, their crimes displayed for all to see."
Lamia shuddered. Though he didn't know all of Scotland's history, he was aware of the horrific punishment of mummification. It was gruesome, but his rage mirrored Fiona's—he didn't care about mercy. Let the culprits rot.
Once Fiona had donned a regal red gown and summoned her composure, she ascended the throne in the grand hall. Courtiers gathered in hushed silence as Fiona's proclamation echoed through the chamber:
"Let it be known that anyone who brings forth the culprit behind Lady Catherine's kidnapping shall receive a reward of a thousand gold pieces and a place of honor in this castle. But let this be a warning—anyone found complicit in this crime shall face my wrath before the day is done."
The proclamation was swiftly sealed and dispatched to every corner of the kingdom. Messengers rode out with urgency, their hooves thundering against the cobblestone streets. Yet, as the kingdom rallied, Lamia felt no comfort. The emptiness gnawed at him, and his desperation grew.
He thought of Hadrain. The witch possessed powers that could rival any enemy. But when Lamia reached Hadrain's chambers, he found them eerily deserted.
"Hadrain!" Lamia's voice cracked as he called out, the silence mocking him. He sank to his knees, his frustration boiling over. His hands curled into fists as hot tears streamed down his face. No matter where we run, we are never safe.
His anguish was interrupted by a faint, ethereal sound—a baby's cry. Lamia froze, his tears forgotten. The cries grew louder, haunting yet familiar, their wails carrying a desperate plea.
"Daddy, help us... Help Mom..."
Lamia's heart thundered in his chest as he followed the cries, his feet moving on instinct. They led him to a hidden compartment behind a tapestry. His breath hitched as he descended into a forgotten part of the castle, overgrown with vines and fragrant flowers. The cries grew louder, guiding him to an ancient well.
Peering inside, his blood ran cold. "Catherine!" he gasped, his voice breaking.
She was lying at the bottom, her gown torn and bloodstained. Around her, the mutilated remains of crocodiles lay scattered, their flesh hanging grotesquely from jagged rocks. Lamia's mind reeled. How? Catherine isn't supernatural... How did she survive this carnage?
Without hesitation, Lamia leaped into the well. His body glowed with a radiant white light as he reached her. The glow intensified as he cradled her limp form, his power lifting them both effortlessly out of the well.
"Catherine," he whispered, his voice trembling. "Stay with me. Please."
Carrying her in his arms, Lamia ran toward the castle clinic, his heart pounding with fear. Behind him, hidden in the shadows, Prince Aiden and Morven emerged, drawn by the commotion. Their eyes widened in horror as they approached the well.
The sight of the dismembered crocodiles sent shivers down their spines. "This... This isn't human," Aiden whispered, his voice quivering. "We've angered something far more powerful than we anticipated."
Morven's gaze was fixed on the ground, her face pale. Aiden followed her line of sight and froze. Margaret's lifeless body lay in pieces, her limbs and torso scattered grotesquely. Her once-powerful presence was reduced to a gruesome tableau.
"This... this is Catherine's doing," Morven murmured, her voice hollow.
"How?" Aiden snapped, his panic rising. "She's no witch, no supernatural. How could she possibly...?"
Morven didn't answer, her mind racing. Aiden grabbed her arm, his grip tight. "We have to leave. If Fiona finds us here, we're as good as dead."
Reluctantly, Morven followed, her steps faltering. The weight of their crimes pressed heavily on her, and she knew there was no escape from Fiona's wrath. The queen's punishments were legendary, her justice merciless.
But as they fled, neither Aiden nor Morven realized the extent of the storm they had unleashed. Catherine had seen Aiden's face, and Fiona's rage would not rest until the culprits were found.
Meanwhile, in a distant corner of the kingdom, Hadrain was surrounded by an angry mob. Torches burned brightly as the crowd chanted, their voices filled with hatred. Bound and helpless, Hadrain was moments away from being set ablaze.
And yet, as the flames drew closer his life became seriously endangered as he was at the mercy of the angry mob stars.
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