Chapter 221 The Pull

Chapter 221 The Pull

AYLETH

Ayleth hated herself for leaving him. He was grieving, and under immense pressure. What he asked was, strategically, the best for all. She knew that. But she'd sat at that table, unable to make her lips form the words.

Assassinate my parents. Both of them.

How had she ever thought they could bring their families together? How had she ever naively held that hope so truly?

His parents were dead at her Kingdom's hand. Not an assassination in the dark, but death was permanent whether at the hands of a soldier, or a spy. Ayleth held no doubts about that. She knew... the Ruler within her knew. Knew that he was right. And that this would answer their problems. Knew it would, in fact, solve so many more.

She would take Zenithra to peace in the Accord, and to peace with Summitras and the world would be better for it. Only one sentence stood in her way.

What she needed, she realized, wasn't to find another way, but to find the peace in her conscience to allow herself to take this step.

She was unfamiliar with the Castle, so made several wrong turns. It wasn't until she was forced to ask a servant for directions that she realized she was truly alone.

So accustomed to Falek at her heels, she'd just assumed... but her Knight Defender had obviously taken Etan's word that they would be safe with the council and likely gone to rest. He was exhausted and tormented—and that was her fault, as well.

With a small cry, Ayleth finally found a servants exit to the back of the Castle—a massive, manicured garden, wilder in its form than the Zenithra gardens and maze, but beautiful.

Ayleth stepped outside and began to run. She'd been out of her long dresses for so long, it took a moment to adjust. But she held her skirts and ran, blindly, something within her pulling towards the dark thicket of trees in the south eastern corner. It called to her, as if she needed to be hidden from view.

As she moved it became clear that the wide, carved marble plinth at its feet was... an altar.

Ayleth wished she'd known that there was a place to worship the Goddess here! She would have brought incense or grasses, something to burn, to recognize her worship!

"I'm sorry," she breathed as she hurried forward. "I'm sorry I was unprepared. Please, forgive me and... and read my heart that I come with good intention."

As she approached, speaking to the statue as if it were the Goddess herself, Ayleth felt only a little silly. She knew this representation was not the power of deity—and yet, she'd felt that power. Felt the draw. She'd been brought here, she couldn't deny it.

"Thank you for calling me. I needed the time to... cleanse my heart," she whispered.

"Oh, child, you always come with a good heart. Stop creating problems where problems do not exist!"

Ayleth gasped and slid to a halt, her mind screaming that the voice was familiar and was the Goddess truly here?

But before she could form the words, a form that must have knelt at the statue's feet, straightened and stood, turning to face her, the face hidden in the deep cowl of a large cloak.

"The gift is stronger in you than I thought," the voice said, barely above a whisper and Ayleth's heart hammered.

She knew that voice. It couldn't be—

The woman drew the hood back and her mother's face was revealed, smiling—

beaming at Ayleth. "You will be an immensely powerful Queen," her mother said. "Thank goodness I found you."