Chapter 42: Chapter 42

KAMORA

Lord Maroke rushed down toward the guest room where the princess was waiting and burst inside.

The picture that greeted him pulled him to a stop, his face etched with confusion.

Jarosh lay on the princess’s legs, fast asleep, while she gently stroked his cheeks, her smile gentle.

Lord Maroke hurried to his son’s side and knelt before him, studying him intently.

“He is okay,” the princess said, her smile wider than normal. “When I heard that he was missing, I quickly sent my men to find him. The people who kidnapped him have all been killed.”

Lord Maroke paid no attention to her, studying his son with rapt attention.

Truly, like Claudia had said, something seemed to be wrong with Jarosh.

Though he looked peaceful, his face was extremely pale.

“What happened to him?” he asked, still not looking at the princess.

“Sadly, Jarosh was poisoned in the fight between my men and his kidnappers,” the princess replied, her voice sounding genuine.

“Thanks to the healers at the palace, we were able to create an antidote. But he needs to take it regularly, else he relapses again. I have already given him the first dose.”

Lord Maroke stood up and gently took his son from the princess. He bowed slightly to her.

“Thank you for saving my child,” he said.

“No need to thank me. You’d do the same for me if I were in your shoes,” she said. She stood up, folding her hands in front of her.

“Can I ask you to please give me the antidote to the poison?” he asked.

“I will, of course I definitely will!” she said. She drew a small glass bottle from her folded hands and held it out to Lord Maroke.

“This will be enough for tomorrow. I sadly couldn’t come with many as only two bottles were made, and they were made in a hurry. To get the remaining dose, you’ll have to come to the palace.”

“You can simply ask the doctors to send me the recipe for the dosage. My healers will take care of the rest,” he said.

The princess remained silent.

“But I don’t want to,” she said.

Lord Maroke stared at her for a while.

He wondered why it took so long for her to show her true colors.

“I deserve something, a reward perhaps, for saving your son, don’t I?” she said.

“But you said you didn’t mind,” Lord Maroke replied. “You said that I would have done the same for you.”

“I know,” the princess said softly, “but I can’t help being greedy.”

She walked toward him, her smile soft and almost shy.

Lord Maroke didn’t move.

“What do you want?”

Her smile deepened.

“My father is hosting a suitors’ ball for me in two weeks. I want you to attend.”

He frowned, clearly puzzled.

“I can’t. I’m still married.”

“To whom?” she shot back. “Your wife has been missing for years. It’s time you moved on.”

She stepped even closer, her voice lowering to a whisper.

“Don’t you want to be royalty? I can give you anything you desire—you just have to say yes.”

Lord Maroke took a step back, still holding Jarosh tightly.

“I’m sorry. I can’t.”

For a brief moment, disappointment flickered in the princess’s eyes—but her smile remained.

“That’s your choice,” she said lightly. “Let’s see how desperate you are to save your son. You’ll get the recipe…once I hear word of your attendance.”

She moved toward the door where her servants stood waiting with their heads bowed.

“And I know you’ll come,” she said. She turned and walked out of the room, her servants following.

One of them gently closed the door behind her.

Moments later, Greyson entered.

“My lord, what happened?”

Lord Maroke stood frozen, his hands clenched tightly.

“She poisoned my son,” he said.

The silence that followed was so heavy, it felt like it could smother the room.

Then Lord Maroke let out a chilling laugh.

“I suppose I’ve been too quiet for too long. Quiet enough for others to grow bold enough to harm what’s mine.”

Greyson said nothing, his furrowed brow a silent agreement.

Lord Maroke then held up the bottle, studying the contents inside.

“We have to find out what is inside. By today.”

Suddenly, Jarosh stirred in his arms, his voice barely a whisper.

Lord Maroke tightened his hold to keep him from slipping and gently called his name.

“Jarosh, are you okay?” he asked.

Slowly, the boy’s eyes fluttered open, dazed—as if he’d just returned from a long, harrowing journey.

“Father?” he murmured.

Lord Maroke nodded, a smile breaking across his face.

“You’re safe. You’re home.”

A flicker of relief passed over Jarosh’s face, and he managed a faint smile—but then, as if something troubling resurfaced in his memory, the smile quickly faded.

“And Kamora, is she back?”

Lord Maroke nodded. He did not say anything else.

“Can you please take me to her?”

“You don’t look so well, Jarosh. She might worry.”

“Well, that’ll be her punishment for leaving without a word,” he said, acting spoiled. “That’ll teach her never to do such a thing again.”

The way Jarosh found the strength to act like that made Lord Maroke smile.

He brushed away some of Jarosh’s hair that had fallen on his face, then said, “Okay. Let me take you to her.”

They left the guest room. Greyson followed right behind them with Jarosh still in Lord Maroke’s arm, and they made their way to the room where Kamora slept.

Once they arrived, Jarosh struggled a bit, signaling that he wanted to get down. Lord Maroke gently placed him on the floor.

His walk to his mother was a bit unstable at first, but he finally got control over his feet and walked slowly toward where Kamora lay.

He simply stood by her side, staring at her for a long while.

“Did something terrible happen to her?” he whispered gently. “Why does she look like this?”

Lord Maroke’s smile was melancholic. “Only she can tell us what she went through.” ~I hope she gets well soon.~

Jarosh gently took Kamora’s hand that lay by her side. As if sensing that her son had returned, she immediately woke up, her eyes going straight to the little Fae being by her side.

“Kamora?” Jarosh whispered excitedly.

“My son,” Kamora said suddenly, her eyes filled with tears. “My son.”