Elara’s POV
The palace erupted into motion the moment I said her name.
“Lise.”
It echoed through halls that had once felt safe, bouncing off stone walls and gilded doors, carried by servants, guards, and messengers who suddenly understood the weight behind it. A missing princess was not just a frightened child—it was a fracture in the illusion of control we had fought so hard to maintain.
I stood frozen for a heartbeat too long, my thoughts splintering in every direction at once.
“She can’t be far,” I said, though my voice trembled despite my effort to steady it. “She said she was helping refugees.”
Caden was already moving, his authority snapping into place like armor. “Seal the inner gates,” he ordered sharply. “No one leaves without inspection. I want patrols through the lower quarter, the river roads, and the eastern alleys.”
Guards bowed and scattered, steel clanking as they ran.
Serena appeared at my side, her face pale but focused. “Elara, breathe,” she said softly. “We’ll find her.”
I nodded, though my lungs felt too tight to draw a full breath. My hands curled into fists at my sides, nails biting into skin.
Elena stood near the doorway, her face drained of color, eyes wide and glistening.
“How could you let her go alone?” I snapped, the words leaving my mouth before I could stop them.
She flinched as if struck.
“I—I thought—” Her voice broke. “She promised she’d come back.”
My chest burned with guilt the instant I saw tears spill down her cheeks.
“That promise doesn’t mean anything to men who burn homes,” I said harshly, then stopped myself. “No—Elena—”
But the damage was done.
She folded into herself, arms wrapped tightly around her torso, trembling. Serena stepped between us, her tone firm but gentle.
“This isn’t the moment,” she said quietly. “She’s scared too.”
I turned away, shame flooding me. I had faced assassins and councils without blinking—but the idea of losing my child unraveled me completely.
Minutes dragged into an hour.
Reports came in fragments.
No sign of Lise at the refugee shelters. No sign near the docks. No sign near the bakeries where the displaced often gathered.
Every negative answer tightened the knot in my chest.
“What if Alexander took her?” The thought escaped my lips before I could bury it.
Caden’s jaw clenched. “There’s no proof of that.”
“But he knew exactly where to strike us,” I said, pacing. “What better way than our children?”
Serena placed a hand on my arm. “He wants chaos. Taking Lise would ignite war instantly.”
That did nothing to soothe me.
“I should never have let her out of my sight,” I whispered.
Caden turned to face me fully. His voice softened, but his eyes burned. “This is not your fault.”
I shook my head. “She’s too kind for this world. Too open. She believes everyone can be saved.”
“That’s not a weakness,” he said. “It’s what makes her dangerous to people like Alexander.”
Another hour passed.
The sun dipped lower, shadows stretching across the marble floors like grasping hands. I felt like screaming, like tearing something apart just to release the pressure crushing my ribs.
Then—footsteps. Running.
A guard burst into the hall, breathless. “Your Majesties—”
My heart leapt painfully. “Where is she?”
“She’s at the western gate,” he said. “She came back on foot. Shaken, but unharmed.”
My knees nearly buckled.
I was already moving before the sentence finished, skirts gathered in my fists as I ran down the corridor without dignity, without restraint. Caden followed close behind, Serena calling for guards to keep pace.
We found Lise sitting on the stone steps near the gate, wrapped in a borrowed cloak, dirt streaking her hands and hem. Her face was pale, eyes unfocused, as if she were still somewhere else entirely.
“Lise,” I breathed.
She looked up.
“Mama.”
I crossed the distance in seconds, pulling her into my arms so tightly she gasped. I didn’t care. I needed to feel her alive.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered into my shoulder. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”
I pulled back, hands gripping her shoulders, fury and terror crashing together inside me.
“What were you thinking?” I shouted. “Do you have any idea what could have happened to you?”
Her lip trembled. “I just wanted to help.”
“You are a child,” I snapped. “You don’t wander into unrest alone. Not now. Not ever.”
Tears spilled freely down her cheeks. “They were burning houses,” she sobbed. “Verdanan soldiers. I saw them. People were screaming. I tried to help a woman carry her baby, but—”
Her voice broke completely.
Caden stepped forward then, kneeling in front of her, his tone calm but grave. “Lise,” he said. “You did nothing wrong by wanting to help. But you put yourself in danger.”
She nodded frantically. “I know. I’m sorry. I didn’t know they’d be there.”
I pressed my hand to my mouth, horror sinking in. Verdanan soldiers. Burning homes. Alexander had moved faster than we thought.
I turned away, shaking, anger still boiling in my chest but tangled now with overwhelming relief. I had nearly lost her.
Caden gathered Lise into his arms gently, letting her cry against him until her breathing slowed. He murmured soft reassurances I rarely heard him use, brushing her hair back with surprising tenderness.
Only then did I realize my hands were trembling uncontrollably.
The kingdom was unraveling.
And my children were already paying the price.
As Caden carried Lise back toward the palace, I followed in silence, fear settling deep and cold in my bones.
This was no longer politics.
This was war reaching for my family.