The Lycan's Queen : A tale of fate

Three days had passed since Queen Elara's awakening in Celestara Castle. She lay in bed, still frail and recovering, tended to by servants and healers alike.

"This is unlike them. Supernatural beings are blessed with the ability to heal faster," Morgana remarked, walking alongside the Queen Mother through the empty corridors. They were on their way to the tournament preparations, where most of the guests had already arrived . King Theron had forbidden anyone from approaching the Queen, telling them she was ill. Yet, the slow recovery was working in their favor.

The Queen Mother's response was dry, "Yes." Morgana glanced briefly at the Queen Mother before looking outside at the bustling preparations for balls, dinners, and celebrations. "They do tend to heal quickly. I can't grasp what's truly wrong with the Queen. Even Given is worried, and he's clueless too." The Queen Mother adds at the end .

At the mention of Given, the Queen Mother's eyes narrowed.

"Are you sure about the 'clueless' part?" Morgana started to ask, but she was cut off by the sharp tap of the Queen Mother's cane.

The Queen Mother stopped abruptly, silencing Morgana with a pointed look. "Don't doubt my skills, Morgana. I am very intelligent," she said, continuing her walk as though nothing had happened. Morgana followed, noting the change in her stance, the newfound use of the cane. "I trust Given. He wouldn't dare lie to me. But I do agree—her recovery is taking longer than expected. Do you think it's because she's losing her powers? Her true nature is slipping away, and she's becoming more... human?"

Morgana quickly shook her head. "No. That's not possible." Yet, the doubt crept in, lingering at the edge of her thoughts. Was there something they hadn't considered?

The Queen Mother scoffed, her sharp eyes fixed on something beyond Morgana. It was unclear whether her disdain was directed at her or the scene outside, but the weight of her authority made Morgana second-guess her own understanding. "I've never read of such a thing."

"Who would be stupid enough to write about it, Morgana? Use your brain cells. Now leave me. I could use some company." The Queen Mother's voice was a low murmur as she stared out, seemingly lost in thought.

Morgana bowed, fully aware of the Queen Mother's desire for specific company. She understood what the Queen Mother meant. "I've been missing Given, but he's too caught up with the Queen. I'm not heartless enough to demand his presence," the Queen Mother added, her voice a mix of longing and frustration.

Morgana remained silent, not wishing to engage further in that particular conversation. With a final bow, she promised, "I'll bring someone for your company, Your Grace."

Meanwhile, on the other side of the castle, a heated argument between Given and Lyric unfolded. Well, it was more one-sided because Given was desperately trying to maintain his composure and not turn the girl into a frog—or worse.

"Why can't I see her, Give?" Lyric huffed, her voice a mix of frustration and determination. "I'm only going to ask her what her favorite color is since you don't even know it."

Given clenched his fists, fighting the urge to not cast a spell in frustration. "I've already told you, Princess, her favorite colors are blue and silver. But she prefers silver more."

"No, I refuse to believe it!" Lyric stomped her feet and crossed her arms in defiance. "Her favorite color can't be something so bland. She's the Queen of Lunareth! She's regal, huge, and powerful—her favorite color can't just be... silver!"

Before Given could respond—or tell her to stop shortening his name—Lyric's words were cut off by the sound of the Queen's chamber doors bursting open. A nursemaid rushed out, looking flustered and alarmed. Given immediately moved toward her, trying to get answers, but the maid was too stunned to speak. Given had no choice but to focus his attention on her.

"I—I don't know such miracle , Sir Given!" the nursemaid stammered, her hands trembling. "The Queen—she woke up and was ... she was—"

Suddenly, the sound of Lyric's soft voice echoed from inside the room, cutting off the maid's explanation. "Where is the Queen?"

Given's stomach dropped. Before he could stop her, Lyric had already slipped past him and entered the Queen's chambers.

Realizing what had just transpired, Given turned and rushed inside the room. "Your Royal Highness!" He didn't even finish the sentence before Lyric's voice interrupted him.

But before he could protest further, they heard hurried footsteps approaching, and soon Morgana entered with the Queen's handmaids.

The tension in the room escalated quickly, and given how much had already transpired in such a short time, it was hard for Given to process it all. His thoughts scattered when he was suddenly grabbed by two guards, who pulled him out of the room. Lyric followed suit, ranting angrily.

"But I need to speak to the Queen! She has to—"

"Lyric!" a sharp voice commanded.

It was the King. His figure, clad in his royal red cape, stood tall and authoritative in the doorway, his piercing eyes trained on his daughter. "Behave yourself. Now."

Lyric froze, obeying her father instantly. Her pout was still visible, but she didn't dare argue further.

The King's gaze shifted to Given, and the calm fury in his eyes was unmistakable. "I expected discipline and peace from wherever you were stationed. The Queen just woke from a coma, and now this noise? I will not tolerate such disrespect towards my wife."

The King's words cut through the tension like a blade. His assertion that the Queen had woken up and was now preparing to watch the tournaments was enough to leave Given, Lyric, and Olivia all stunned in their tracks.

The sudden declaration seemed to confirm the Queen's recovery, and it was clear that the King wanted nothing to jeopardize his wife's wellbeing. The tension between the royals grew even more palpable, as the King's gaze turned colder, more protective.

After a tense silence, the King dismissed them with a wave of his hand. "Guards, remain posted outside and don't allow anyone to pass through ."

The sound of the doors closing behind him left the group in stunned silence, their questions unanswered. The Queen had recovered, but the cryptic nature of her condition—and the King's fierce protectiveness—only deepened the mystery.