Since I was soon to be crowned queen, I expected to be taken to some room. Even a small, modest one would do—locked away and ignored until I was needed. But no! Instead, they threw me into a dungeon cell like some dangerous thief. I’m no stranger to humiliation, but this, in my opinion, is a bit much. Especially considering my new status!
– So much for being a queen… – I sighed and slumped onto the cot that served as a bed for prisoners.
– What did you expect? – asked the translucent ghost named Brazianna, once a queen of Alvia and, coincidentally, one of my ancestors. – That he’d lay the world at your feet and profess his undying love every minute? If that were the case, they wouldn’t have tied you up before dragging you to him.
– Just be quiet. It’s bad enough as it is.
– How do you talk to your great-great-great-great… How many ‘greats’ is it again?
– Enough already, woman! – barked Islandario, cutting her off. – Can’t you see she’s already struggling? And anyway, where’s that old windbag? She was the one who insisted our little treasure stay in Altea.
It’s odd to hear him call me ‘treasure,’ considering how this ghostly demon drives me to exhaustion during training. His supernatural gift was extraordinary strength and endurance, but he somehow forgets that my abilities are entirely different.
– I don’t know. She wandered off somewhere a few minutes after they grabbed Bella.
Just a week ago, I was living the quiet life of a scorned recluse. Since childhood, everyone thought I was strange. All it took was a touch, and I’d see the nearest restless dead relative of whoever I’d brushed against. Over time, my gift evolved, and with each contact, I began to see more and more spirits tied to that person. Then, ten years ago, they appeared—my ancestors. Or rather, they’d always been there; I just started seeing and hearing them. Brazianna and Islandario are far from the only restless souls who cling to me and pester me endlessly. There’s also Alamat, who, even in life, had the gift of foresight and still helps me from time to time. If it weren’t for her, my mother, sister, and stepfather wouldn’t have left Alvia, escaping the vulnerability that Grendel could have exploited. Now that there’s no leverage over me in this country, it’ll be easier to face everything and overcome my adversaries. I only need to worry about my own life, not the safety of my loved ones.
Preparations for my escape began a month before the uprising. Alamat warned me years ago, giving me the exact date, so I had more than enough time to find a safe place for my family, secure a home for them, and gather funds. Under the pretense that I’d forgotten something and would catch up later, I managed to send them away and stay behind alone.
Though I followed the dead seer’s instructions, I had no idea what to do next. She always spoke in fragmented phrases or riddles. At least this prophecy was clear and precise: “On the twelfth of May, in the year 897 after the fall of the great empire, the king of Alvia will die, and his adopted son will seek to wed you to claim the throne.”
– Fine, Alamat is always like that, but tell me this: what’s this oddity doing here? – Islandario asked, pointing at the bewildered ghost of Rohan.
In a way, I can understand the man. Just hours ago, he was killed by the boy he raised as his own son, even though that child was born of an unfaithful wife.
Yes, fate played a cruel trick on him. He abandoned his former fiancée, the daughter of the well-known and influential Duke Claris, when he became crown prince and outmaneuvered his brothers. Dead brothers, I might add (not without his involvement). True, he didn’t know that Henriette was already pregnant with me, but that’s not the most important factor to me. What matters is that he knew my mother’s father—whom she loved, cherished, and respected—had died just two weeks prior. At that moment, she was vulnerable and needed support. Yet he left her anyway. And for whom? For the daughter of a count—a rather flighty woman, at that.
Rohan took the throne, married Felista Dargan, and six months later, the usurper who now imprisons me was born. His wife didn’t live long. I never bothered to find out how she died, only that she left her son to my so-called “father.” Year after year passed, and the boy showed no sign of strength. Soon, it became clear that the king’s son wasn’t his at all. The late queen had conceived the child with a stablehand.
– You… How can you see me? – Rohan finally asked the question that had been gnawing at him.
His black hair, streaked with gray, bore some resemblance to mine. But that’s where our similarities ended. The color of my eyes, my skin tone, the shape of my eyes, ears, and nose—all came from my mother. How has he not yet pieced together the connection between us?
– You’re dead, so I can see you. If it weren’t for that unfortunate turn of events, you wouldn’t even know I exist.
– But you’re a Claris.
– Are you referring to the fact that you once traded my remarkable, loyal mother for a queen who was a bit of a—
– Belladonna! – Brazianna shouted.
– Fine, fine, don’t yell.
– Don’t forget, you’re my descendant. Don’t dare tarnish my name with poor manners!
Yeah, yeah. In life, this late queen had a peculiar superpower—a voice so loud it could hit a range of frequencies, from the lowest to the highest. But now, after years of wandering and being unable to use her gift, I came into the world—a girl who can see, hear, and speak to ghosts. She was overjoyed to learn I could hear her. Day and night, she drilled palace etiquette into my head with that strange voice of hers. And I mean literally around the clock! If I didn’t respond, she’d crank up the volume, experiment with frequencies and tones. Sometimes, just for fun, she’d even scare me at night.
– Anyway, let’s get acquainted. Since your soul won’t find peace and move on to wherever the dead are supposed to go, only I and other ghosts can hear you. I hope by now you’ve figured out that my surname by my father is Dolores… Dad.
– Is this some kind of joke? Henriette and I couldn’t have had children. I turned out to be infertile.
– Brazianna, look at him spinning tales! Can you believe this? How could a Dolores possibly be infertile?
– I see, I see. And I’m wondering: how could this man be our descendant and Bella’s father? Maybe he’s a changeling?
– He wouldn’t have been able to wear the crown if he were.
– Or maybe it was a fake?
– What are they talking about? – Rohan asked me, ignoring the pair who continued to chatter.
– Our lineage isn’t just distinguished by the ability to wear the Crown of Alvia and a unique superpower from birth. We’re also known for our fertility. Usually, those who carry our blood are quite… precise, hitting the mark with a single ‘shot.’ By the way, medicinal contraception doesn’t work on us. Our bodies reject those drugs. The only option is a barrier method, but considering I’m standing here before you, there are two possibilities: either you didn’t use one at all, or you relied on medication.
– But Felista…
– Oh, you fool… – Islandario drawled mockingly in Brazianna’s style, though not as loudly and at a frequency normal for human ears. – Your queen turned out to be a fickle one. That son of yours, the one who killed you, was conceived before you even slept with her. And you can’t impregnate someone who’s already pregnant. I hope I’ve made that clear, you dim-witted ghost.
– But how could this happen?
– If you’re going to whine about the unfairness of the world and how everyone betrayed you, then leave. Or at least go to the next cell. We’ve got plans to discuss here.
Islandario and Brazianna drifted closer to me—if you can call it that—standing on either side, staring at the same spot on the floor as I was. Thanks to the thick layer of dust covering the ground and a crooked stick I found in the corner, I could sketch out a plan and easily erase it later. A swipe of my foot, and the secret strategy would be gone.
– Do you have a plan? – the ghostly woman asked. She was clearly interested in my thoughts and believed I could handle everything. She’s always like this: full of faith in me, watching my actions with curiosity.
If my plan weren’t so rough around the edges, I’d feel much more confident. But I ran out of time, even with clear deadlines. And I’m scared that in this battle for survival, I might lose. No, he definitely won’t kill me right now. And he’s unlikely to do so until I bear a child. So, what does that mean? It means my first priority is to ensure he doesn’t want to share a marital bed with me. The longer I can delay that, the longer I’ll live.
My current strength isn’t enough to defeat him here and now. So, my first goal is simply not to lose to him.
– Bella, why did you write this as the first point?
– Because I don’t yet have the strength or resources for bolder moves. So, the second point will be ‘Build strength and power.’ It won’t be as easy or straightforward as I’d like, but I have to at least try.
– And the third—overthrow Grendel?
– Not in the way you’re thinking, but yes. That’ll be my third point.
– These sound more like overarching goals, – the ghostly man commented thoughtfully on my summary.
– Are you planning to kill him? – Rohan interjected, still lingering despite not leaving.
– I’d rather not become a murderer, but we’ll see how things play out, – I replied to my newly discovered father.
Yes, I’m familiar with the darker side of this world. I’ve encountered it more than once. But I don’t want to resort to such drastic measures and stain my hands with someone else’s blood. I’m not afraid, but I don’t want to go down that path.
– What? Do you pity the boy? – Islandario asked Rohan with a biting tone.
– After what he did, he’s no son of mine, – the late king snapped back. – I’d be thrilled if someone slit his throat in a dark alley.
– Hey, calm down, both of you, – Brazianna interrupted their spat. – Why don’t you offer something useful instead of bickering? You’re just distracting Belladonna. I get that your own lives aren’t at stake, but don’t forget—if she dies, you won’t be able to speak to or influence any of the living.
Yeah… They’re as self-serving as ever. Well, fine. I’m the same way. You could say it’s another trait of the Dolores family. But if we weren’t like this, our lineage wouldn’t have ruled Alvia from the fall of the empire until now...
I glanced at the man responsible for interrupting our dynasty’s reign and found myself pondering a very intriguing question. Just what did my mother see in this sorry excuse for a man? She had everything: beauty, strength, influence, the love of those around her… So why on earth did she get involved with him, let alone bear me?
– What?
– Nothing, – I shook my head dismissively and stared back at the floor.
I’ll need to add more details to the plan later. Right now, it’s just a short list of long-term goals.
– Who can go scout the situation? – I asked the ghosts.
All three exchanged glances but remained silent. I’m asking for such a small favor. Is it really that hard for them?
– If I could get out of here myself, I wouldn’t be asking, – I added after a few minutes of silence. – Well?
– Let him go! – Islandario exclaimed, pointing at Rohan.
– Why me? – Rohan protested indignantly.
– Because this one can’t be trusted with anything! – Brazianna chimed in, ‘supporting’ her descendant. – Besides, weren’t you the best spy, Islandario? Or have you lost your edge? Is the powder in your keg all used up?
– Me?! You—! You old hag! Weren’t you the one bragging that no one could gather intel better than you?
– I did say that. But you’re younger, so you should go.
– He’s the youngest among us.
– I’m the youngest here, – I corrected the ghost calmly. – But the living can’t pass through obstacles. And I can be seen.
– Ugh, you’re all insufferable! – Islandario shouted, trudging slowly toward the prison exit. – Treating me like some errand boy… I’m a king! The great conqueror-king Islandario Dolores! Just you wait, I’ll get my revenge on each of you. No one will go unpunished.
He grumbled something else, but as the distance between us grew, I couldn’t make out what he was saying.
– So, what are you going to do next? – Brazianna asked, watching with curiosity as I lay down on the cot and stared straight at the ceiling.
– What can I do right now? – I replied, not turning toward the ghostly former queen. – They’ve caught me and locked me up like some criminal. And I haven’t found a way out of this place yet.
– Haven’t found one, or are you pretending you haven’t even looked?
– This is the palace dungeon. The locks here are the most secure, so escaping is impossible, – Rohan chimed in.
– Oh, what do you know? Honestly, how could I have such a descendant? The entire palace is riddled with secret passages. You can escape from anywhere if you know the loopholes.
– Are you saying you know how to get out of here?
– I do. And my experience tells me Belladonna knows it too. Tell me, aren’t you ashamed to lie to your grandmother? You’ve got something up your sleeve, and you just don’t want to tell me.
– Fine, let’s say I do know a way, – I didn’t argue with the woman and turned on my side to face my conversationalists.
Brazianna died at an old age, but that wasn’t what determined her ghostly appearance. After death, restless souls take on the form they feel represents them, based on how they perceive themselves. It’s not even about mental age, but self-acceptance. In life, she never denied her age; on the contrary, she took pride in it. And why wouldn’t she? Even Islandario, with his boundless strength, incredible speed, and unmatched endurance, only sat on the throne for thirty-two years, while this lady held it for a whopping seventy-four!
She usually wore a blue gown, her favorite crown, a diamond choker, and a pearl necklace, but depending on her mood, she could change her outfit. To alter their clothing, accessories, or even hairstyle, ghosts only need to imagine the desired look and will it into being.
– Then why aren’t you running? – the former monarch asked, voicing the question on both their minds.
– And where would I go? If I escape, they’ll catch me no matter where I try to hide. Better to conserve my strength and wait for things to unfold. So right now, I’m just going to lie down and sleep.
Brazianna knows I’m lying about having ‘nowhere to run’ and ‘they’ll definitely catch me,’ but honestly, there’s no point in escaping right now.
– Fine, sleep. I won’t bother you today, – she sighed dramatically, turning her back to me before drifting straight through the wall.
– Are you really just going to sleep and wait for your fate?
– If you follow Brazianna and Islandario’s example, I’d be very grateful. Get acquainted with the perks of your new existence. Walk through walls and people, spy on someone, eavesdrop on conversations… There are plenty of options. It’s quite interesting, so go on and give it a try.
– Alright. But later, you’ll have to answer all my questions.
Rohan chose to leave like a living person: walking normally through the door. But I’m not particularly interested. In my twenty-one years, I’ve talked to enough ghosts and seen plenty of their antics. It’s a shame I can’t turn this ability off for a while with some magic button. Sometimes, I just want to be alone...
I wonder how long Grendel plans to keep me here: a few hours, days, months, years? Will I stay here only until the wedding, or is this my permanent room? Even though he intends to make me queen in name only, as a consort king, he’ll need to at least pretend I exist and do something: organize events, engage in charity, manage the palace... But I doubt he’ll trust me with anything beyond event planning. Charity boosts public reputation, and palace management grants power and influence. Even events can have an impact, but they’re the lesser of the ‘evils.’
People aren’t that complicated. You can often predict their next moves, but you should never rule out the element of surprise. Especially when everything seems predictable, one small detail can change all your plans, so you have to be ready for anything. Look at Rohan—he wasn’t prepared for the boy he raised as his own son and named as his successor to kill him with his own hands. Nor did he expect that his former fiancée might have been pregnant with his child. And here’s the result: Grendel is in power, Rohan is a ghost, and I’m in prison.
Some might think I have no preparation or backup plans, but that’s not true. I have a goal that brought me here. And I have secret passages, contingency plans, and weapons… Lots of weapons: information, connections, money. But my greatest weapon is my mind. With the ability to think, you can always find a way out of a situation and make use of the resources at hand.
Alright, fine, I’m getting a bit philosophical… It’s all interesting, but a nap wouldn’t hurt.
I tossed and turned for a while but didn’t fall asleep easily. My awakening, however, was unforgettable. I mean, how many people wake up to something being jabbed at them… How do I put this? Something cylindrical, with a rounded tip, about five centimeters in diameter. Yeah, I’m talking about the blunt end of a spear.
– Wake up, Your Highness. The king demands to see you, – the guard said with undisguised mockery and malice.
– Then let him come down here himself, – I replied, cracking open one eye before immediately closing it and rolling over to the other side.
– Get up! – He grabbed my shoulder roughly, forcing me to stand. It hurt, but I managed not to make a sound.
Like king, like subjects. Just as crude, cruel, and arrogant. But we’ll see who has the last laugh and who gives the orders in the end. For the sake of my goal, I can endure humiliation. For a little while.
They clamped iron shackles on me. No longer the rope that chafes and leaves painful marks, which is a small mercy, but I can’t understand the reason for using them: do I seem that dangerous, or does my future husband have a thing for bondage? If it’s the latter, I’ve got bad news for him: I’m not into that. But will he even bother to ask me? Alright, enough, better to push those dark thoughts aside and focus on something else.
Easier said than done. In the grim atmosphere of the old palace’s black, white, and gray tones, positive thoughts don’t exactly come naturally. Especially in my precarious situation… Alright, Belladonna, are you pregnant? No! So he’s not planning to kill you yet… Probably… Damn it! Why did I even get myself into this mess? I could’ve found other ways out.
Who made this choice? I did. So I have to take responsibility for my actions. But not at the cost of my own head! Where are all these ghosts when I need them? With them around, I’m not as scared.
– On your knees before the king! – the guard bellowed, shoving me forward to either fall or kneel.
Caught up in my panic, I didn’t immediately notice that we’d arrived at the throne room. The place where it all began. Though I should’ve run earlier. It’s too late to back out now.
– So, what do you have to say now, Belladonna? – Grendel asked, seated on the throne.
Seriously, boy? You threw me in a dungeon, then woke me up to drag me here. While I’ve been suffering, you’ve been sitting here enjoying life in the company of a stunning beauty.
She sat on the armrest of the throne, looking down at me. Light brown hair, a white dress with a soft, fluffy hem and draped sleeves. If I were a man, I’d fall for her at first sight. She looked like an innocent white angel, though the massive crown adorned with bright red gems and the heavy earrings seemed out of place to me, spoiling the image.
Grendel, too, didn’t look like a usurper but rather like a naive prince dreaming of saving the world: slightly wavy black hair, a white shirt, a lace cravat at his neck... Only his gaze remained as menacing as ever.
If he hadn’t threatened me last time after killing Rohan, I wouldn’t have even suspected that this pretty boy wasn’t a gentle prince but a ruthless usurper. It’s a strange contrast that I can’t quite wrap my head around.
Am I imagining things, or is that girl’s hand on his trousers? What’s she holding onto? His thigh?
– Someone hold the king’s pants, because I’ve got a feeling his mistress is about to yank them down right now. I’m not exactly eager to dive into a lesson on human anatomy or witness the union of bodies in this situation.
The haughty expression on the girl’s face morphed into embarrassment. Her pale skin perfectly showcased every shade of red.
– How dare you! – the beauty exclaimed, indignant.
The king remained silent and impassive. He simply observed the scene unfolding before him, in no hurry to intervene.
– Since you’re staying quiet, I’ll speak, – Grendel finally said. – Asthenia will be living in the palace. And she’s not my mistress. She’s my favorite.
– Is there a difference? You’re sleeping together either way. Not that it matters to me. Favorite, mistress—call her what you want. It doesn’t change anything for me. And frankly, I don’t care, as long as it doesn’t affect me, – I shrugged and shifted to sit on my heels. Kneeling for too long is uncomfortable. – Is that all? Can I go back now? I’m dying to get some sleep.
– Ha… Is there anything that actually bothers you?
Plenty bothers me: my family, my life, my future. And right now, I’m scared. I might snap back at him, but I’m terrified. Deeply.
– Fine. The wedding and coronation will take place in three days.
– And I’m supposed to sit in the dungeon the whole time?
– What, didn’t you like it down there?
Is he mocking me right now? How do I tell him off politely? Or why even bother with politeness?
– You…
I only managed to get that much out before the tip of a spear pressed closer to my lower back. I’m not an idiot; I get the hint. So I held back from insulting the future king in front of witnesses. Saying it behind his back wouldn’t be as satisfying, but it’s better to marry alive than become a queen posthumously.
– Hey, get that spear away from me! It’s bad luck to poke a bride with sharp objects. Or do you want something terrible to happen to the groom at the wedding?
– Are you threatening me? – Grendel smirked, raising his right eyebrow.
– Oh, perish the thought! How could I dare? It’s just an old folk saying.
– Funny, I’ve never heard of such a superstition.
That’s because it’s an original, but the people here don’t need to know that.
– There’s also a saying about a hungry bride. Care to hear it?