Helene de Tristaine. Beloved Mother, Wife, and Empress. May you rest in peace until we meet again.

Placing a humble bouquet of wildflowers against the engraved headstone, Jovine paid her respects to the late Empress. She recalled that bitter, gray day when she stood in the Imperial Cemetery with a numb, faraway husband that couldn’t care less for the family he had just buried and the suffocation of regret strangling her breath. It felt like a lifetime ago.

“Even now, you’re still haunting me,” Jovine whispered hollowly.

Squeezing her eyes shut, the image of the map she had shoved into a locked drawer flashed across her eyelids. All through her sleepless night, she had tried deciphering it. The faded map. The missing pages that never should have existed. The late Empress’s written entry left behind. Someone was leaving her a trail of clues, and while she couldn’t explain how, she knew without a doubt it was the late Empress.

“It will all come back to you one day. One where all this nonsense will become clear.”

The words Empress Helene had spoken to her brushed by like an ominous whisper. Even then, it felt as if she knew something. Something that was coming and something she couldn’t explain just yet.

It had always weighed in the back of her mind. Empress Helene was a woman of purpose. No matter how heartbroken or grief-stricken she would have been from the death of her husband, Jovine couldn’t believe she would leave her son behind. And on that forsaken night, Jovine could have sworn there was a spark of defiance still burning behind her mourning eyes. She was a woman of great wisdom and one who had the look of suffering branded within her past.

So, why would she leave like that?

Jovine clenched her fists, her eyes stinging and her head pounding painfully. With one more bow of deference, she turned away. Determination sang through her veins as she walked past the ancient gravestones embedded within the harsh green of the warm Spring day. For too long had she submitted blindly to the dark. Now, her eyes were opened and it felt as if the world was finally in focus. Time ran slower, and although she still felt lost, she was alive. And, that’s all she could count on at the moment.

Up ahead, she saw Lady Margaret and a few of her younger maids waiting by the gardens. Seeing that Erin had still not returned, Jovine felt the stirrings of concern.

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It was only after a long, careful deliberation the night before that she had decided to write the letter. It troubled her to write it. It pained her even more to have to ask Erin to deliver it for her. But, she needed more people on her side. Someone to help protect her as she ventured out for answers, and someone who was devious enough to do the things she couldn’t quite bring herself to do yet.

So, trusting the task to Erin, Jovine shook away the doubts and walked on ahead towards her ladies who greeted her with trepidation.

“Your Majesty, please consider taking the afternoon to rest,” Lady Margaret pleaded quietly as they walked through the Palace Gardens.

“I’m fine,” Jovine assured her with a small smile. “But, I will take advantage of the fresh air and sunshine. Will you bring all the documents I need to review to the West Pavilion?”

Satisfied enough, Lady Margaret happily departed to retrieve the necessary records. As soon as she was left with her maids, Jovine turned to them as well.

“Leslie, would you bring out some tea and biscuits for a quick snack?” Jovine asked the shy girl with soft brown eyes. Lighting up, she chirped her affirmation and scurried away.

“Harper,” Jovine called to the last maid walking with her. “I would like to go over some historical accounts from the Imperial Library. If you could ask the Keeper to arrange an overview of all the records he can find, I would appreciate it.”

Looking uneasy, the young girl timidly spoke, “I will wait with you until Lady Margaret and Leslie return, Your Majesty.”

“No need to worry. I would like a few moments alone.”

“Yes, Your Majesty,” she hesitantly bowed, and Jovine watched as she hurried away.

Sighing, Jovine basked in the sunlight warming her face. Some of her maids were newer additions to her service once she was crowned as Empress, and while their loyalty was yet to be tested, she wanted them to feel secure with her. Feeling a bit down, but relieved for a moment alone, Jovine rested in the comfort of the chirping birds and familiar green.

It wasn't until she walked past the monumental marble fountain splashing crystal waters through the air that she stopped, the slight reprieve of peace she felt fading away. Out of habit, she had come here — the place stained with her memories of Richard.

Her little chocolate escapade, her nightly walks with him in the past, her desperate hold on their promise to meet here on the night before their coronation. A sharp twist of pain convulsed in her chest.

She hated him. She hated how much she had loved him, and how hard it was to forget that she couldn’t bear to love him now. Not when she could still see him entangled in that wretched woman’s arms while she was taken away by Death.

Her breaths heaved out unevenly, and her vision slowly turned red again.

“Your Majesty?” The sound of a deep, surprised voice startled her.

She slowly turned.

Clashing against intense gold eyes, she came face-to-face with Grand Duke Amon vel Feyras.