A Kingdom of Wolves

Chapter Eight.

Chapter Eight.

Fitz lay on his super king size four poster bed. The thick red drapes that hung around the canopy were drawn, encapsulating him in his bed, to give an extra element of heat and keep the draft from the windows disturbing his sleep. However, it was not the chill in the air that had his eyes open in the dead of night. It was the thoughts of what the next day would bring that disturbed him. The king could not correlate how the angel from his childhood, could be responsible for the murder of her sisters child. Yes, he was but a child himself the one and only time he had met the girl. But there was not a hint of her being anything but innocent, kind of heart, even wanting to show love to those who sought to make her life miserable. The child of his memories, would no more murder and innocent child, nor hurt her sister, who he now understood was a twisted, psychopathic individual. After Carson had left for The Glacier Pack lands, he had moved into the vaults, that held the private memoirs of his ancestors. The kings who had reigned before him. He sought out his fathers, shelf, that contained hundreds of journals, embossed with gold, each depicting a fifty year span of his reign. He had picked out the old kings last journal before he had passed from this world, noting that it had begun thirty years prior. The information he required, would have been recorded in that chapter of his father’s life. What was only supposed to take an hour of his time, turned into more than six hours, as he devoured his fathers inner thoughts, on everything from how the old king had felt the day of Fitz’s birth, to the devastation he had felt on the passing of his mother. The wars between the Snow Wolves and Sand Dragons, depicted the stories he had known, or witnessed many times growing up. But Fitz had never thought, for a single second, that his father had been almost terrified of the attacks from the scaled, fire breathing beasts. This had shocked Fitz, yet rather than think of the man who had been his hero, as less that the brave man he was. Fitz felt that these entries, helped calm him. He too had fears. Not just about fighting the beasts of the air, but about life in general. Reading his fathers memoires, enlightened him to the fact that no matter how strong, powerful or successful a monarch was, or confident they appeared to be, they were still but werewolves, half man, half wolf, each of them having their own insecurities to deal with.

Fitz had devoured his father’s words, learning from them, allowing them to soothe his troubled soul. He did not feel so alone, knowing that many times in the old king’s life, he had doubted himself as not being good enough for their people. To Fitz, his father was the perfect king, and father. But he realised that his father, never truly believed that about himself.

Eventually he came across a passage in the memories that seemed inconsequential, in compared to the grand stories, and life events depicted. However, the words struck the young king directly in his heart.

The life debt owed is paid in full. However, I feel this will not be the end of this situation. The girl is too dangerous to leave her new accommodations. I believe that she will strike against her sister once more, if she obtains the chance. If or when, that day comes, I will pay the debt once more, for the sake of a good and loyal warrior, who I was privileged to call my friend. Cousin Maisy has been informed of my thoughts, not even my trusted Carson, knows of these details. I have gifted Maisy with a moonstone, as she is highly honoured, and deservedly so. But it came with a caveat. To watch over and protect the child at all costs, for I fear for her safety as long as her sister breathes air. I do not believe that Rein will be the only werewolf to wish danger and death upon the child. She must be protected.

That was the only entry Fitz could find. His father had been as astute as always, the girl he so vehemently wished to protect, was now in danger, from the laws of the kingdom. The young king had pondered on what made Eliza Whitestone so special, that his father would go to such lengths to protect her. Had she murdered the child that resided in her sister/Luna’s belly because she was in danger? Even then, he could not comprehend the child he had met in the flower dome that day, having the ability to hurt a fly, let alone an innocent child. The thoughts troubled him, as he tossed and turned in his bed, unsure how he could protect her, as his father wished, if she had done as she was accused. He may be king, but he had a duty to uphold the law.

~.~.~

Eliza lay in the single bed, wrapped up like a burrito in the warm green blanket. Even in her beloved home, she had never felt so warm and cosy. A fire roaring inside the grate of the large, stone built fireplace that took up a third of the room. Anything that projected warmth, was a source of comfort for all the snow wolves of the Northern Territories. Especially those as far north as the Glacier Pack had been. But even the roaring fire and heat from their flames did little to comfort Eliza as she wiped a stray tear from her cheeks.

She grieved for Elder Maisy, the woman who had always been around as a child, often joining her family for whale stew, before she became too fragile to make the journey. Grief for her parents, who by this time tomorrow, may become childless. Eliza realised that she no longer feared death for herself. She had stared it in the face and found a peace that she could never explain had consumed her in that moment. But she did however, fear what her death would mean for others that she loved.

Her father had visited her that evening, bringing with him a huge bowl of whale broth, along with some vegetables that were a rarity in the stark freezing northern climes. This boarding abode, must be one used by royalty, for them to go to such lengths to have the carrots, corn, long green beans, and a green flower type vegetable, her father had informed her was called Broccoli, imported from Neutraliss. They, were freshly grown, not the type that would sit in cans, in the Glacier Pack. The expense of these precious items, was mind boggling to her. She had never expected to be treated to such good foods, even before the accusations that put her life in imminent danger.

Aiden’s words echoed in Eliza’s mind.

“I know you didn’t do this, Eliza. You must speak the truth, and nothing but the truth to the king tomorrow. If you are honest, he will feel it deep in his soul. If you are untruthful, he will also know and move accordingly. Do not fear the truth, for the truth will set you free.”

Eliza was an honest person, always was, and she would no more lie to the King than head to the southern moon. However, she held out little hope of being believed. Her tale was too horrific to be true. Yet truth it was.

She had met the king once before. A lifetime ago. When she was a small child. He was a prince then, and caught her in the flower dome, looking at the delicate white flowers with yellow centres, which he had told her were called Daisy’s. He had been a kind boy then, telling her to pick one of the rare flowers. She remembered she had gifted it to her sister, only for Reign to become enraged, when she found out the alpha Prince Fitzwilliam had allowed her to pick it, and said some cruel things to her, squashing the flower underfoot. Eliza had hid her tears that day, until her parents had left their quarters in the Ice Palace, to banquet with the Old King. Only then did she allow them to fall, enraging her sister further. The young prince had saved her that day. But the question remained, would he be willing to save her from her sisters wrath once more?