Chapter 9 - The Witness Underwater
The wooden horse had a hollow belly.
Captain Rovan discovered it after removing the burned wheel. Inside was a narrow strip of parchment wrapped around a brass pin. The parchment bore a rough drawing of the black lake, with an X beneath the water near the northern cliff.
“Darius left this for Tomas,” Tessa said.
“Or someone wants us to believe he did,” Rovan replied.
Varron sat bound beneath a pine tree, surrounded by soldiers. He watched the parchment with an expression that revealed nothing.
King Aldric had ordered Maribel taken to the palace physician, but she refused to leave until the search was complete. Her wound was painful but not fatal. She stood wrapped in a soldier’s cloak, one hand pressed against her shoulder.
“The lake is deep,” she said. “No one could search it before winter.”
Tomas stepped toward the edge. “My father went there.”
“You remember?” Elara asked.
“Not clearly. I remember being carried. I remember the water. I remember a bell under the ground.”
Halven, who had joined them at the lake, looked toward the northern cliff. “There is an old bell tower beneath the water. The river flooded it generations ago.”
Rovan frowned. “Why would Darius hide something there?”
“Because no one searches a drowned church,” Halven said.
The captain ordered ropes, lamps, and diving gear from the nearby village. They waited until dawn, when the wind fell and the lake became glass.
Elara did not sleep. She sat beside Tomas beneath a pine tree while the boy stared at the water.
“Do you remember your father’s face?” she asked.
“I remember his boots.”
“His boots?”
“They were too big. He carried me on his shoulders, and I held the buckles.”
Elara smiled sadly. “That sounds like a good memory.”
“I remember him saying I had to protect the sun.”
“What sun?”
Tomas touched Elara’s locket. “This one.”
The first diver went down with a rope tied around his waist. After several minutes, the rope jerked three times. The guards pulled him to the surface.
He surfaced gasping.
“There is a stone structure below,” he said. “A doorway, but it is sealed from inside.”
Tomas stepped forward. “There is a bell.”
The diver stared at him. “How could you know that?”
“My father told me.”
Rovan prepared to descend himself, but Elara stopped him. “The door may need the locket.”
“You are not going into that water.”
“It is connected to my family.”
“You do not know how to dive.”
“Then teach me in ten seconds.”
The captain almost smiled despite the tension. “You are beginning to sound like the king.”
Maribel stepped beside them. “The door will not open with the locket.”
Elara turned. “How do you know?”
“Because Celestine told me.”
“What opens it?”
The queen removed the broken silver chain from around her neck. At its end hung a crescent-shaped piece of metal.
“The locket and the crescent together.”
Halven’s eyes widened. “The royal seal was divided between the first queen and the princess.”
“Celestine gave me the crescent when she asked me to help her flee,” Maribel said. “I kept it after she died.”
Elara took the piece from her. It fit against the locket’s outer edge, completing the design.
Rovan chose two divers to accompany Elara. She protested, but he refused to let her descend alone. Tomas remained on the shore with Aldric and Halven.
The water was colder than Elara expected. The rope pulled her downward into darkness. The lamps revealed broken stones, drowned branches, and pale fish that vanished into the black.
At last, the bell tower appeared.
It had no bell. Only a cracked doorway set into the side.
Elara pressed the locket and crescent together. A faint golden light spread through the metal. The stone door released a cloud of bubbles and opened inward.
Inside was a narrow chamber filled with trapped air.
The divers followed.
At the back stood a stone chest.
Elara opened it with the completed seal.
Inside were three items: a sealed packet, a child’s leather boot, and a bronze cylinder.
The packet bore Celestine’s name.
They returned to the surface and opened it before the king.
The first page contained a list of names. Judges, guards, nobles, merchants, and servants. Beside each name were amounts of money, dates, and threats.
Varron had built a network of control throughout the kingdom.
The final page contained a confession signed by him.
He admitted that he had forged the king’s orders, poisoned Celestine, hidden the birth ledger, and arranged the disappearance of Princess Seraphine. He also confessed to placing Tomas in the orphanage to force Darius’s obedience.
But there was one line that made the king drop the page.
I did not act alone. Queen Maribel approved the removal of the child and agreed to claim that the princess was dead.
Maribel closed her eyes.
“It is true,” she said.
Aldric looked at her. “You signed this?”
“I signed the first order. Not the murder.”
“But you allowed it.”
“Yes.”
The king turned away.
Elara thought the confession would end everything. Instead, Varron laughed from beneath the tree.
“You have found old papers,” he said. “A confession written under pressure means nothing if the writer never admits it before the court.”
Rovan pulled him to his feet. “You will admit it.”
“Will I?” Varron’s gaze moved to Maribel. “Ask her what happened to the third child.”
Maribel went completely still.
Elara felt cold despite the morning sun. “What third child?”
The chancellor smiled.
“You believed the queen wanted only the princess removed. You believed Tomas was the only other child taken. But the palace had another secret.”
Aldric stepped forward. “Enough.”
Varron ignored him. “The first queen gave birth to twins.”
The world seemed to stop.
Elara stared at the king.
“That is impossible,” Halven whispered.
Varron laughed again. “Ask the physician.”
Everyone turned toward Doctor Halven.
The old man’s face had lost all color.
Elara’s hand found the locket.
“Is it true?” she asked.
Halven lowered his head.
“There were two infants in the nursery that night.”
The king whispered, “You told me Seraphine was alone.”
“I believed the second child was stillborn.”
“Believed?”
Halven’s eyes filled with tears. “The queen ordered me to record one birth.”
Maribel turned toward him. “You promised never to speak of this.”
“I promised because I was a coward.”
Elara’s heart pounded. “Where is the other child?”
Varron leaned toward her.
“Closer than you think.”
Behind them, one of the rescued children screamed.
The seven-year-old girl who had been silent since the orphanage had reached for the bronze cylinder. As it opened, a hidden compartment released a miniature portrait.
It showed an infant wrapped in crimson cloth.
Beside the baby stood another child, older by only a few minutes.
The two infants wore matching sun-shaped marks.
On the back of the portrait was a name.
Princess Seraphine.
And beneath it:
Princess Solenne.
The rescued children gathered around the portrait. They had spent years hearing adults speak of royal blood as though it were a punishment, yet the image showed two babies who knew nothing about crowns or conspiracies.
Lysa stared at the name. “That is not me.”
Elara knelt beside her. “It is the name you were born with.”
“Do I have to use it?”
“No. A name can be a gift, but it can also be a chain. You choose what you want to carry.”
The little girl touched the portrait with one finger. “Does that mean I am your sister?”
“Yes.”
“Will you leave me now?”
Elara’s throat tightened. “Never because of a crown.”
King Aldric heard her promise and looked toward the water. The discovery should have brought him joy, but it also revealed another failure. He had mourned one daughter while the other lived unseen in a place controlled by his enemies.
Maribel stepped toward the girls. “Your mother loved you both.”
Lysa looked at her. “Did you?”
The queen could not answer immediately.
Finally she said, “I loved the possibility of saving you. I did not love you bravely enough.”
The child seemed to understand more than anyone expected. She did not forgive Maribel, but she stopped hiding behind Elara.
That evening, the king ordered two new royal records written. One named Seraphine, daughter of Aldric and Celestine. The other named Solenne, her twin sister. He signed both pages in front of every witness.
Then he added a third line himself: No child of this house will ever again be erased by silence.
Elara watched the ink dry. It was an ordinary act, yet it felt more powerful than a coronation. The king could not recover the years stolen from them, but he could refuse to let another record be altered in secret.
Lysa leaned against Elara’s shoulder. “Will people call me Princess Solenne now?”
“Some will.”
“What will you call me?”
“Lysa, until you tell me otherwise.”
May you like
The child smiled faintly. “Then you are Elara until I tell you otherwise.”
“That seems fair.”
