And she will be his queen.

The world saw Halius Sapphire as the perfect storybook prince, tasting the honey but not the poison it concealed. Long ago, Alexia had met the monster that lurked within that fairy-tale veneer, and she could never forget.

Alexia was just eleven during the Year of Three Kings when a plague claimed King Ezekiel and his heir, Haddeon, leaving the throne to Ezekiel’s second son, Gideon. One afternoon, she was reading The Peacemaker—learning about how Linus’s powers manifested while he was an eleven-year-old trying to survive as an orphan on the cruel streets of Rubinia—when Halius snatched her book. No matter how much she begged, he refused to give it back. He teased her until tears welled up in her eyes. Finally, the prince dangled the book just out of reach and promised to return it—if she called him “Your Majesty.”

Her face flushed with humiliation, but she didn’t dare resist her tormentor. “Please give me my book, Your Majesty.”

“That’s better.” He ran his hand through her hair like she was a doll. “You shouldn’t be concerned with wars or wizards.” He stroked her cheek. “You should only worry about looking pretty and managing your husband’s household. My household.”

She would never forget the stench of honeyed tea on his breath as he kissed her—again and again. A helpless anger burned within Alexia until she felt like she was ablaze. She begged him to stop.

Halius threw The Peacemaker into the fire. “Have you forgotten what happens when you displease your king?”

He seized her, pinching cruelly, calling her a whiny, stupid bitch who didn’t realize the honor she was being given. He pulled her hair and forced her to her knees. Alexia looked desperately at Sir Ryam, but the Azureknight was sworn to protect Halius, not the prince’s victim.

The pain of the young prince’s grip was nothing compared to the heat raging through her bones. Her pleading turned to a scream, and as it did, the room became icy cold, the hearth fire extinguishing. All Alexia wanted was for Halius to burn. She saw it in her mind—his tunic catching fire. Her scream peaked, she gripped his tunic, and flames shot from her fingertips.

Halius shrieked, his tunic ablaze. Fear instantly replaced Alexia’s anger as the fire in the hearth roared back to life, scorching the remains of The Peacemaker.

Sir Ryam doused the flames with his azure cloak, but Halius’s fury couldn’t be extinguished. He condemned her as a freak, demanding her execution.

Alexia’s pleas fell on deaf ears. Halius ordered Ryam to behead her, but the knight refused. Only the king could give such an order. Furious, Halius demanded they go to Queen Hellena, but Sir Ryam insisted it must be King Gideon.

Sir Ryam dragged her toward the king, Halius hurling insults and threats and letting everybody know that Alexia dared to attack him. She sobbed for her parents, feeling more hopeless with each person that did nothing. King Gideon was the most terrifying figure she had ever known, a man who’d ordered more executions in a few months than his father had in twenty years. She was going to die.

Alexia whimpered as Halius told his story, ashamed that she couldn’t even speak up for herself when her life depended on it. She closed her eyes, unable to look at the mighty king as he approached. Instead of beheading her, the king knelt and took her hand. “Look into my eyes, child.”

His eyes were unlike Halius’s green orbs. They were bluer than any ocean or sky. Instead of seeing the executioner, the warrior king, Alexia saw her best friend Azi.

“Forgive me, Alexia,” Gideon said softly, tears welling in his eyes. “I have spent most of my life away from Saphirhold and not enough time as a father to my own children. You, sweetheart, have been a far better companion to my daughter than I have, nor have I shielded you from my son’s cruelty.”

Halius scoffed, but Gideon ignored his protests, keeping his gaze on Alexia. “You have always been important to me, and now you are important to all of Leveria.”

Seven years later, King Gideon proposed to bind her to Halius. The betrayal was like a knife twisting in her gut.

Prince Halius smiled warmly from the Throne of the Heir. “I look forward to learning everything about you, Alexia. I wish to be a good king and an even better husband.”

His voice was like the sweetest ballad, but Alexia only heard the boy who once commanded her death.

Her heart ached at the possibility of never knowing a lover’s embrace. Moments ago, she’d felt trapped in her duties, and now she yearned for the freedom of this morning. People never truly grasped the value of freedom until they felt the weight of the chains.

Alexia cursed Leverith and cursed herself even more for bringing this punishment upon herself with her heresy. She questioned her chastity, wondering if her lack of tribute led her here. Perhaps, if she had been more pious, this wouldn’t have happened. Instead, she had avoided the advances of lordlings and wizards, their covetous eyes on her power, her body—never her. Their gazes made her feel less human, as if her purpose was only to be touched and used.

She had always avoided places steeped in sexuality, clinging to Princess Azurianna or her parents when she must be at one of the queen’s balls, hiding between lectures at the Arcanium, and steering clear of places meant for mingling. She defied the Temple and those who urged her to offer tribute to Leverith. Only her mother had ever said she didn’t need to force herself to “frolic.” Yet Alexia had never confessed her thoughts about frolicking, afraid that even her mother would be disappointed to know Alexia had those feelings for another woman.

The Seeress had preached that there was no greater heresy than loving one’s own gender. Despite years of consoling herself, of reading and rereading Annals of an Anathema, convincing herself that Leverith knew all love was valid, her doubts returned. Now, she felt punished for her chastity, for desiring another woman. And the cruelest part was that she blamed herself.

Tears welled in her eyes, and Alexia stared at her feet to hide them. The betrayal of Leverith cut deeper than the king’s. She had devoted herself to the goddess, healing with her spirit, dreaming of peace and love for all. And in return, Leverith had rewarded her piety with Halius. She wanted to scream at herself for ever believing she could have a storybook ending like Princess Pelianna and her Paladin.

She kept her eyes down. Everyone was waiting for her reaction, but she couldn’t offer one. She wanted nothing more than to be anywhere else. Her father spoke first. “No official proclamations have been made, no contracts signed. While King Gideon and I believe that this bonding could be best for everyone, we won’t proceed if either of you objects.”

“I only ask for a chance,” Halius said softly. “I’m not the boy I was, Alexia. I’d be a devoted lover to you.”

“She will need more than words,” King Gideon cut in, sharp as a meladonite edge. “What do you say, Alexia? Shall we strike the idea down now or give it a fair trial?”

Alexia looked at her father for guidance. Eron Bluerose gave an encouraging nod. His betrayal eclipsed the king’s or Leverith’s. He spoke of her freedom to make this choice, but it felt like an illusion. Right now, she felt like property being auctioned by her own father. She did what she always did when socially overwhelmed: she stalled and avoided. “I need time to absorb this.”

“It is not every day that one is offered to become a future queen,” Halius said with a humorous lilt that would have charmed nearly every other girl in the kingdom.

Alexia met his eyes briefly before turning away. “No. Not every day, Your Majesty.”

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him flinch at the honorific. He remembered too.

King Gideon glanced at her father. “Brief them on the Ferrickton operation.”

Eron rose from his seat, his voice now the smooth, silvery tongue of the royal steward. “Ferrickton supplies more than half of the Ruby Kingdom’s iron, located just a day’s ride from the Bear River, where it’s shipped anywhere from Qorath to Meridian. You are to report to Mirrevar, infiltrate the Ruby Kingdom, and use cognitive-affectomancy to collapse the mines.”

“Master Alexia will be in command,” King Gideon declared.

Alexia sensed the shift in divine energy from Maleon’s anger, the room chilling as he channeled Seraxa’s heat. He said nothing, but the heat of his rage terrified her. She lowered her gaze, knowing Maleon was the better candidate, wishing he were sent alone on this quest.

After discussing the details, King Gideon dismissed them. Maleon’s silence quickened Alexia’s pulse as he strode out of the throne room.

“Sweetheart.”

She turned to see her father, but couldn’t muster the will to do more than nod at the wall beside him.

For once, his contagious smile failed to spread to her. “I’m glad to see you return whole.”

Alexia nodded again, though she didn’t feel whole. How could she? She would never have her other half, and she was farther from becoming the person she wanted to be than ever.

*************

Lady Ione Bluerose dropped her book the moment Alexia appeared in the doorway. “Lexi!” she cried, rushing to embrace her daughter. Before Alexia could speak, her mother’s arms were around her.

If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

They pressed their foreheads together, as they had done for as long as Alexia could remember. As always, Ione tossed her golden hair forward like a veil, a habit that still amused Alexia even now that she was as tall as her graceful Heron mother. “I missed you, my sweet sunshine,” Ione said, her voice warm with love.

Wrapped in her mother’s arms, Alexia felt a warmth she hadn’t known since leaving Sapphirica. “I missed you more,” she replied, hugging her tighter, a surprise tucked in her other hand.

They pulled back and locked eyes. Ione smiled. “I missed you so much that the only way I could deal with it was to write about you.”

Alexia blushed, anxious to hear about her mother’s latest project. She managed a grin and made the winning move. “I missed you so much I brought this.”

Alexia revealed her surprise: an almond pudding pie. Her mother’s eyes widened. She reached for the pie, only for Alexia to pull it back with a teasing tsk.

Ione chuckled. “You missed me more,” she conceded with a laugh, her joy contagious.

Alexia handed over the pie and flopped onto the sofa, flipping through the book her mother had been working on. Ione Bluerose nee Heron, a master of literature and history, had long since retreated into her role as a chronicler, preferring solitude over the limelight of lecturing. Alexia traced her finger over the title of the manuscript.

“The Savior of Tenacity?”

“I happen to know her,” Ione quipped. “In fact, she’s my absolute favorite. Not the Love Queen, the Peacemaker, or the Godseer. The Savior of Tenacity.”

“She must have the best mother of them all,” Alexia said.

Ione set two plates of pie on the table and sat beside her daughter, leaning on her shoulder. “Your words, not mine.”

Alexia laughed and leaned back into her mother. It had been too long since she had been in safe harbors where she could laugh and love and be herself. “You should put that quote in your book.”

Ione laughed. “The kingdom yearns to know more about you,” Ione explained. “Your father’s informants say you’re the talk of the common folk. He and King Gideon made sure that “On Cognitive-Affectomancy” was distributed throughout the kingdom. Bards and scholars recite your letter all over the kingdom every day, and songs are sung about how you saved Tenacity. You have healed people from every hold in the realm and they speak your name with hope, and even the old and cynical believe you might show them a better world. The Leverian people love you, dear. I would have them know just how right they are.”

Alexia’s hands trembled as she set her plate down. Overwhelmed, she collapsed into her mother’s arms, sobbing. The weight of everything—the horrors she’d committed in Vulcan, the looming betrothal, fear of Maleon Stonebreaker, the masks she must wear, another mission to hurt people, the crushing responsibility of so much pressure—threatened to drown her. She wasn’t Linus Peacemaker or even a fraction of her namesake, Queen Alexia Leveria; she was just an anxious eighteen-year-old girl. If the people knew who she truly was—quiet, uncertain, lost in her own dreams—they’d know she was a fraud.

Her mother didn’t judge. She simply held her, squeezing her hand gently, letting her cry. After a long silence, Ione finally spoke. “You don’t think you deserve it, do you?”

Alexia nodded through her tears.

“It’s been a hard journey,” her mother said.

Alexia couldn’t bring herself to tell her mother the truth—that she was a monster, a freak. She had watched squadrons of soldiers die in agony because of magic she had unleashed. The screams haunted her, and everyone praised her for the pain she caused. She couldn’t tell her mother what she really was. Instead, she laid her head in her mother’s lap.

Ione stroked Alexia’s hair, gathering her thoughts. “I have only ever been responsible for recording history, not making it. I will never know what it is like to fight in a war, to see my comrades die, or to be forced to kill. I can only imagine what you’ve been through.”

Alexia curled into a ball, unable to speak of memories she could not stop reimagining.

Ione’s tears fell upon Alexia’s hair. Her voice broke with emotion. “I don’t have to imagine knowing who you are. That, I know better than anything else. I’m prouder of you than I’ve ever been of anything I’ve done. I know your strength—in magic, in mind, and most of all, in heart. I know the world is blessed to have you, that Leveria couldn’t be in better hands, and I couldn’t love you more.”

Despite her mother’s words, Alexia’s doubts remained. She stared at her trembling hands, hearing the screams in her mind. “Why me? Why am I the one who…,” she trailed off, unable to finish.

Her mother pulled her close. “You are meant for more than war. You are a lover and a peacemaker. Never be ashamed of who you are because your greatest magic has nothing to do with cognitive-affectomancy. Leverith chose you because your love will bring dreams to life. Vulcan is just a footnote in your chronicle of peace, undeserving of its own chapter.”

For the first time since feeling betrayed, Alexia reached out to Leverith. “I love you,” she whispered, letting divine love flow through her. Alexia reminded herself that she was safe here, that she was a strong, worthy person even without her stoic façade. Here, she was loved just as she was, and always would be. Leverith’s spirit answered her call until blue light streamed from her body and circulated the room. The screams receded. They would return, but not here—not now.

Ione kissed her cheek. “I love you more, Lexi.”

Alexia snorted. She met her mother’s eyes, grinning. “I love you more than the moon loves the sun.”

Ione wiped her own tears. “I love you more than the sea loves the sky.”

“I love you more than the wind loves the trees.”

“I love you more than your father loves bacon.”

Both of them laughed, blending sniffles with giggles. “I love you more than anything,” they said together, holding hands, sharing a smile. In this moment, Alexia felt good enough. She chose not to look too far forward and lived in this moment because she knew tomorrow it would be gone.

They savored the pie as their conversation drifted toward court gossip. Ione updated Alexia on the kingdom: her father’s new tea plantations were boosting the economy, betrothals had been announced, including Alexia’s cousin Robin Heron. Ione mentioned that Halius was due to meet his life’s mate any day now, noting his dalliances with heiresses and serving girls with scorn, unaware of the proposed betrothal. Once Alexia told her about the scene in the throne room, her mother promised to talk sense into the royal steward.

The vast portion of pie left Alexia drowsy, and she was ready for bed when her father entered the room, beaming. “What a beautiful sight!” He kissed Ione and placed his hand on Alexia’s shoulder. “Ready, Alexia?”

Alexia followed her father up the stairwell, mourning the nap she had been denied. His silver cloak, adorned with his blue rose sigil, flowed behind him. Many men mocked his Kavovan style as unmanly, but their wives were envious of the quiet wife the elegant steward had wed.

Her father’s office was meticulously arranged, a shrine to his work. Scrolls of governance were neatly stacked, maps with detailed notations adorned the walls, and shelves overflowed with books on law, history, and finance. He could have found anything he needed here, yet he often made trips to the Arcanium’s Grand Library, where he would find her hiding away in some nook. She had realized over time that those “serendipitous” encounters were deliberate. Despite being charged with managing the minutia involved in governing an entire kingdom, he took angles out of his days to find her while she was battling crippling self-doubt.

Her father, Eron Bluerose, had always been her rock. It wasn’t just his marigold eyes he had given her—he had given her strength when she was weak, picking up the pieces of her every time she broke.

Eron settled into his chair, a cushioned masterpiece from the Mahogany Isles made to offset the pains of sitting the Steward’s Seat, while Alexia took the more modest chair opposite him. The perfume of Maypine air fragrances filled the room, partly masking the scent of ink and parchment. Eron leaned forward, hands clasped. “We need to talk about Prince Halius.”

Alexia tensed. Her emotions, concealed from the royal steward, were not hidden from her father. Catharsis had come half a year early. “I don’t love him. I never will. Don’t make me bond him.”

Eron sighed. “He’s not the pompous prince who teased you, Alexia. He’s changed.”

She recoiled. “Teased? He terrorized me for years! He still torments Azi!”

Unfazed, Eron continued calmly. “Azurianna gives him just as much as she gets and always has. Halius has grown into a responsible heir. He attends court alongside his father and shows respect for both those above and below him. He’s proven himself a worthy heir for Monsoon in the training yard. Responsible. Handsome. Caring.” Eron smiled at her. “He asks me about you all the time. The boy has always loved you, Alexia. Blame his grandfather’s permissiveness, his mother’s bitterness, or his father’s absence for why he was what he was as a child. A child doesn’t have control over who shapes them, only over how he shapes himself when he sees the world beyond them.”

“Loved me?” Alexia spat, incredulous. “He tried to execute me! Has everyone forgotten that? I will never want him!”

Eron’s tone softened. “You could be queen, Alexia. You could bring peace and prosperity to Leveria. If not for love of the prince, do it for the love of the people.”

“Linus didn’t need to be a king to restore peace to Leveria!”

“Linus’s peace only lasted ten years. Alexia Leveria’s lasted centuries.” Eron leaned forward. “One was an advisor, the other a queen.”

Alexia crossed her arms, glaring. Her father’s plan to help her achieve her dreams felt like a nightmare.

“Your children would be kings and archladies,” he pressed. “Do it for them, for our family!”

There it was. The curtain lifted, and Alexia saw the puppeteer holding the strings. “Is that what this is about? A dynasty?”

Eron Bluerose was an artist, and his brush was his silver tongue. Had he been a merchant, he would probably own half the city. Instead, he was her father and his ambitions were far steeper it seemed.

“My love,” he continued, “is it wrong to want the best for your children and their children? My father was a homeless Kavovan refugee, yet he worked hard and became an Azureknight. Was it wrong of him to devote his life to ensuring I had opportunities to go to the Arcanium, that I might rise enough to be considered for the daughter of an archlord?”

Alexia kept her arms crossed, but she shook her head.

“The only way I could repay the sacrifices he made for me was to do my best to make sure they weren’t for naught,” Eron continued. “I worked hard to make connections, to show my worth to people who thought I was an outsider, and took on the duties of a royal steward so that you could grow up in the safety of a castle, instead of at the bottom of the hill like most children of refugees, waiting for the scraps to trickle down. I would do anything to give you and your children the best life possible. Now, you can raise our family from peasantry to royalty in two generations.”

Eron leaned back, his eyes stern. “I will not pretend that securing the chance to match you with a mature, good, beautiful man who can give you the ability to fulfill your dreams of forging peace is anything less than a gift to you.”

Alexia pondered his words. She could find love in her children. As queen, she could bring lasting peace, like Alexia Leveria had. The price was Halius Sapphire.

She sighed, the indignation evaporated. “Do I even have a choice? If King Gideon wants this, it’ll be forced on me.”

Eron shook his head. “You will always have a choice. It was at his insistence that you decide. He needs you, Alexia.”

Alexia leaned her head against the back of her chair and contemplated her alternatives. Confess to Azi how she felt? No, Azi would never feel the same. Reveal her love for women and risk being branded an anathema? No, that would ruin everything she worked for. Stall and find a man she loved that genuinely loved her too? No, everyone only saw her power and beauty. They wanted the Second Great Wizard, or her body—she would never be loved as she was.

Her father’s lips rose into a knowing smile. Silver though his tongue was, he knew when to be silent.

Alexia closed her eyes. “I—I will consider it.”

Eron leapt up, embracing her. “I know you’ll make the right decision. After all, you are my daughter.”