A woman laid on her bed, her eyes closed as she breathed evenly. The maid who usually cleaned her had arrived, ready to take her to the wash room.
"Oh my Queen, please wake up," the maid said in tears as she gently lifted her up but something moved at the corner of her eyes. She turned sideways to see the woman's fingers she had placed on her neck twitch.
A slight gasp escaped from the maid's lips and she looked back at the Queen.
"Y…Your Majesty." She called softly, but when she got no response, she sighed, her rising hope diminishing.
But, when she heard a slight cough from the queen when she was placed in the wash tub, the maid's eyes widened.
"My Queen!" She rushed to her, watching her weak eyes stir open.
"Your Majesty!" The maid exclaimed as tears fell from her eyes.
The queen coughed again, looking at her. "L..Lena?"
"Oh, Praise be to the Almighty. You're finally awake, My Queen!"
Ingrid blinked as her eyes took in her surroundings. "My washroom…"
"Yes, Your Majesty," the maid could feel excitement bubble within her. "I have to go inform His Majesty!"
"W-wait.."
But before she could speak, Lena had sprinted off. Ingrid sighed.
Her body slightly ached and she groaned. But, feeling her body relax in the warm water seconds later, she hummed in pleasure.
She had actually survived. She thought she would be dead by now.
Her eyes drifted to her belly and so she placed her hand on it. Her brows furrowed, she couldn't feel the essence of magic. Did the sickness….alter it? But that was impossible. Her lips twitched.
She coughed again, this time forceful, and she felt a warm spill on her hand - blood. She smiled faintly. Her end was really near.
The sudden sound of her door slamming open, shook her out of her thoughts.
"Where is she?!" She heard Damon thunder.
"M-my Lord, she's in the washroom," Lena answered. And in the next three seconds, her washroom door banged open.
Ingrid's eyes trailed upwards, meeting Damon's gaze. His earlier sharp look had softened - just a little.
"Ingrid," he said softly to her, squatting beside the wash tub she was in.
Lena then closed the door, allowing the couple to have their discussion.
"You scared me." He traced his thumb over her cheek, but she still didn't reply.
His brows furrowed."Ingrid, what is it?"
She was oddly quiet. Well, she had always been quiet.
Her eyes assessed him. The way he stared at her, the way his eyes darted between her face and her stomach, the way his eyes hardened a bit, before softening, all told her one thing. He knew.
"I'm sorry to have worried you, Your Majesty," she replied with a subtle bow.
Her eyes went sideways. The truth couldn't be hidden any longer, anyways.
Damon's jaw ticked as she stood up, water dripping from her bare skin.
"But as you can see, I'm fine."
She stepped out of the bathtub, about to walk away, but Damon caught her and held her in place.
His eyes narrowed as he leaned closer.
"I hope it's not what I'm thinking, Ingrid." His voice came out sharp and clipped.
Ingrid looked back at him lazily. "What troubles His Majesty so much... to speak this way?"
Damon inhaled sharply. "I know, Ingrid. I know!"
Her passiveness annoyed him! His grip on her tightened and her brows furrowed.
Suddenly, he turned her body fully to face him, his fingers pointing at her abdomen.
"What's this?!"
Ingrid didn't look down. "What's what?" She would entertain him exactly the way she liked.
His eyes flared. "The black markings. The supposed 'scar from an injury.'"
She didn't blink. "It's as I said, Your Majesty. I fell off my horse when I was little. It was a horrible injury."
"For how long did you think you could lie to me?"
She attempted to pull her hand away, but he only dragged her closer. A gasp escaped her at the force and she felt his murderous glare pierce through her.
"Do you take me for a fool, Ingrid? Obviously, you do. And I can't believe I fell for it!" he grunted.
A cold breeze swept over her exposed skin, and she drew her thighs closer together.
"Your Majesty... could we continue this when I'm clothed?"
Damon's gaze snapped sharply to her eyes, surprised by her unshaken composure. She didn't even seem troubled that he could sentence her to death at any moment.
He stepped closer. "Why, Ingrid? Why?"
She remained silent, meeting his stare head-on.
He withdrew from her with a harsh exhale. Then he raised his index finger to her face.
"You think you're smart? I will humble you."
He shoved her hand away, hard, making her stumble beside the washtub.
As he left in a simmering rage, she slowly smirked. But then a violent cough tore out of her, and she clutched her breasts, feeling a sudden sharp pain flaring beneath her palms.
Suddenly, she felt warm liquid trickle into her palms. Her eyes widened as she looked down and saw blood seeping from her nipples. A horrified gasp slipped from her and she bit her lip, as dread settled like a knife on her chest.
She was definitely going to die.
Her eyes went to the doorway again. She wondered how he found out. Did he realize it….or had someone told him? Someone who was conversant with the ways of magic. Her eyes narrowed.
It seemed there was a little birdie in the palace. Her lips twitched and she gently dropped her hands to her sides.
It was time for her to make an appearance, especially to those wishing for her to die. Though, their wishes would be granted soon enough.
But, just as she stepped out of the washroom into her bedroom, she felt a loud ringing in her ears.
"Ahh!"
She gritted her teeth, clutching her head tight, as she fell limp on the floor.
She heaved for air, as she tried to sit up.
Her head banged and her eyes turned.
After minutes of the pain subsiding, she grabbed her coat on the bed and draped it over herself.
She stared at the black markings on her abdomen. The Curse of the Forbidden Magic. A curse she willingly placed on herself.
But then, tears streaked down her cheeks. If life had just been better.
She was very unfortunate.