CHAPTER 12
The kitchen was quiet as Xena busied herself with the rhythmic scrubbing of the kitchen countertops . As she worked, her mind wandered to her sister, Lilith. Was she safe? Was she being treated well? The thought of Lilith in the clutches of the Shadow King made Xena's stomach churn with worry and guilt.
"I'm doing this for you, Lilith," Xena whispered to herself. "Just hold on a little longer."
The sudden creak of the kitchen door made Xena jump. She whirled around to see a figure in a guard's uniform, face obscured by a veil. Her heart raced as she recognized the distinctive pattern on the veil – the mark of the assassin's group.
Before Xena could speak, the guard dropped a folded piece of parchment on the counter and turned to leave.
"Wait!" Xena called out, her voice hushed but urgent. "Who are you? Where are you—"
But the guard was already gone, leaving only the faint echo of retreating footsteps. With trembling hands, Xena unfolded the parchment. Her eyes widened as she read the brief message:
"Meeting tonight. 11 PM. The usual place. Do not be late."
Xena's breath caught in her throat. She shook her head in disbelief. "It is impossible for the Shadow King to send a spy here, right? It can't be about the mission," she said aloud, trying to convince herself. "It's too soon. I haven't even... I haven't done anything yet."
But deep down, she knew better. The Shadow King didn't call meetings for social reasons. Something had changed, and Xena feared it might force her hand before she was ready.
****
At the Royal Orphanage, a very different scene was unfolding. King Aldric and Queen Elara descended from their ornate carriage, followed by a procession of guards bearing swords and maids laden with gifts.
Sister Margaret, the orphanage's elderly matron, hurried forward to greet them. She dropped into a deep curtsy, her weathered face beaming with joy. "Your Majesties! We are so honoured by your presence."
Aldric smiled warmly, helping the old woman to her feet. "The honour is ours, Sister Margaret. We've been looking forward to this visit."
"Indeed," Elara added, her voice honey-sweet. "We so rarely get the chance to see the wonderful work you do here."
Sister Margaret clasped her hands together. "Oh, the children will be so excited! They've been talking about nothing else for days."
As they toured the orphanage, Aldric found himself increasingly moved by what he saw. The dormitories were clean but sparse, the dining hall filled with worn but lovingly mended furniture. Everywhere he looked, he saw evidence of care given with limited resources.
Finally, they reached the courtyard where the children had gathered. Dozens of young faces turned toward them, eyes wide with awe and excitement.
Aldric knelt down, bringing himself to eye level with the children. "Hello, everyone," he said, his voice gentle. "I'm so happy to meet you all."
A small boy, no more than five, stepped forward. "Are you really the king?" he asked, his voice filled with wonder.
Aldric chuckled. "I am indeed. And what's your name, young man?"
"Thomas," the boy replied. Then, emboldened, he added, "If you're the king, where's your crown?"
The courtyard erupted in giggles, and Aldric found himself laughing along. "Well, Thomas, I'm afraid my crown is very heavy. I only wear it for special occasions."
As he continued to chat with the children, answering their sometimes impertinent questions with good humour, Aldric felt a familiar ache in his chest. He remembered all too well what it was like to be in their shoes – to be a child without parents, longing for a family to call his own.
Unbidden, memories of his mother flooded his mind. The former queen, so kind and gentle, wasting away from an illness no physician could cure. Aldric recalled sitting by her bedside, holding her frail hand as she slipped away.
And then, more recently, the shock and horror of his father's poisoning at Aldric's own wedding feast. The chaos that followed, the suspicion that fell on every servant in the castle. It was that tragedy that had led to the complete overhaul of the royal staff, bringing in new faces – including, he realised with a start, Xena.
Aldric blinked hard, fighting back the tears that threatened to fall. Elara watched Aldric closely, a calculating gleam in her eye that he chose to ignore.
Before he could dwell further on painful memories, a little girl with fiery red hair piped up. "Your Majesty, where's your baby? Didn't you bring him to meet us?"
Sister Margaret gasped. "Lily! That's not an appropriate question to ask His Majesty."
But Aldric only laughed, the tension of the moment broken. "It's quite alright, Sister Margaret. To answer your question, young Lily, I'm afraid I don't have a baby to bring. Not yet, anyway."
He glanced at Elara, expecting to see discomfort or annoyance at the child's question. Instead, he found her smiling in a way that made him uneasy. There was something predatory in her gaze, a hunger that had nothing to do with maternal instinct.
As they prepared to leave, Aldric found himself reluctant to go. These children, with their innocence and hope despite their circumstances, had touched something deep within him. He made a mental note to increase funding for the orphanage, to ensure they had everything they needed.
"Your Majesty," Sister Margaret said as they walked toward the carriage, "I cannot thank you enough for your generosity today. The children will remember this day for years to come."
Aldric squeezed the old woman's hand. "It is I who should thank you, Sister. The work you do here is invaluable. Please, if there's anything you need, don't hesitate to ask."
As they settled into the carriage for the journey back to the castle, Elara laid her hand on Aldric's arm. "You were wonderful with the children, Your Majesty. It's clear you have a gift with them."
Aldric nodded, his mind still on the bright faces he'd left behind. "They're remarkable, aren't they? So full of life, despite their hardships."
"Indeed," Elara murmured. She leaned closer, her voice dropping to a sultry whisper. "It made me think... Perhaps it's time we considered having a child of our own. An heir for the kingdom."
Aldric stiffened slightly, uncomfortable with the direction of the conversation. "Perhaps," he said noncommittally. "But there's no rush. We have time."
Elara's grip on his arm tightened almost imperceptibly. "Time you say, Your Majesty? We have been married for more than a year now. I only thought... well, after seeing you with those children today, I couldn't help but imagine what a wonderful father you'd make."
As the carriage rolled on, Aldric found himself torn between conflicting emotions. The visit to the orphanage had stirred something in him, awakening a longing he'd long suppressed. But the thought of creating an heir with Elara left him cold.
His mind drifted, unbidden, to Xena. To the mystery in her eyes, the secrets he sensed lurking beneath her calm exterior. What was it about her that called to him so strongly?
Aldric shook his head, trying to clear away such dangerous thoughts. He was a king, with responsibilities to his people and his kingdom. Personal desires had no place in the equation, but Xena was just something else.