Thea fidgeted in the layers of clothing she was wrapped in. She couldn’t remember being so clean, let alone smelling like so many wild things. Florals of a dizzying and nauseating array plumed out from around her and she worked to breathe deeply through her nose to not cough.

Zephen, the emperor’s nicer brother, stood in front with a book in his hand, droning on about some legal texts that said she was to obey Coltair, the man who sat beside her and who had held her captive for months. Dressed finely, she thought, but not as elaborately or uncomfortably as her, the emperor stayed still with his arms crossed and eyes on the floor, deep in thought and miles away from what was happening there.

“Under the laws of Rogun, His Highness the Emperor Coltair does recognize this woman, Thea, as his lawfully bound wife and legal consort, until death. All children born and unborn will be of the line of His Majesty, may they be gifted long life.”

Thea swallowed a lump. It had not been her choice to wed the emperor; she wasn’t even a noblewoman. Somehow, the stern and humourless man beside her had the power to overrule all that and he’d announced just the previous day, by way of a page, that she was to be bound to him, legally and for all days.

In protest, she’d begged to be set free. Sure, she’d been well taken care of in the palace she was forbidden to leave, well-fed, clothed and Dascus had been given a very sweet, very young governess named Sala to tend him, but Thea didn’t like the city. Any city. Away from the Undead Forest, the voices haunted her all the time. Incessantly, they bickered and insulted her. Told her dark and mean things. Told her she should die and meet them there. Only near Riverbrook could Thea get relief from the constant noise. The Sheppard would help her and there would be days—weeks sometimes—of reprieve.

Even now, the voices whispered and cackled in the back of her skull, her inner ear crawling with their noises, like bugs in her brain. She mumbled and cursed them, unable to contain the strain on her exhausted psyche. Zephen stopped a few times when she did this, but Coltair always waved a hand that he hurry through it.

Riverbrook was where her daughter lived safely. She missed her body and soul and hated the voices that had driven her to abandon her there and take Dascus, her twin brother, to Rogun, thousands of miles away. If Darnoon had not abandoned them, he could have helped her escape their wicked influence, but their father was gone too. Gone six months and not a word and Thea had been a new mother with infant babies alone in the woods. She’d had no choice but to seek help.

The voices had told her salvation was on Rogun and that Dascus was a gifted son. They’d drilled her day and night to move and keep moving until she arrived there. Thea had never left the edge of the Great Wood in all her young life. An Orak’Thune mystic, born on the edge of the border with her country and the Bough, she’d grown up with the voices and been shunned from her village, but Darnoon had found her then, been kind to her and shown her the Undead Forest and the Sheppard. She’d found a home and a peace finally, and love she’d thought, in the old man that had shown her such kindness.

It had been a shocking and heart-wrenching lie. The day after helping deliver their twins in the root of a tree, he’d swaddled them, sat with them until she’d fallen asleep—feeling safe and content in his protective presence. But when she’d awoken, he and all traces were gone.

Unable to feed herself or care for her babies who needed clothes and diapers, all things he’d promised to give her, Thea had slipped to the village and given in to the voices.

“I will swear adoptive rights to your son,” Coltair said from her side, startling her from her thoughts.

She’d not realized the ceremony had stopped. Unable to grasp the full extent of what that could mean, Thea blinked at Zephen. Unable to answer for her, she looked to the side and saw the emperor now looking directly at her.

Impatient when she didn’t reply after a long moment, he answered for her. “It is done,” he told his brother and lifted from his chair, his hand coming under her upper arm to lift her too.

Coltair walked with her awkwardly, still held by the arm, and into another room. There, Zephen, the royal mother, and three men she didn’t know stood at the edge around the walls. In the centre was a large, decorated but undressed bed.

Thea eyed it uncomfortably and then eyed the emperor, who still guided her firmly toward it. Since arriving on the island so many months ago, Thea could count on two hands the number of times Coltair had held meetings with her. Always he talked only about the voices. For her, their messages were the same, their taunts also familiar, just more constant and insistent.

He stopped her at the edge and let go of her. Thea’s eyes roamed around at the people watching them, clearly unsure what she was supposed to do.

Coltair huffed loudly and nudged his chin at her.

“Undress,” he told her. Thea’s eyes widened.

“For what reason?” she asked in a hushed voice between them. Coltair eyed her with a tired, icy stare.

“This is only legal if we consummate. Undress. I’ll be quick,” he told her. Thea stepped back.

With speed she did not expect, his hand grabbed her arm and pulled her so her face was close to his. His eyes bore into hers. “With or without, you committed in the ceremony. You cannot refuse me,” he hissed at her.

Horror filled her expression and she looked side to side for an escape.

“Here?” she whimpered. “In front of people?”

“Legally, it must be witnessed,” he replied low and let go of her, still unsure if she would run.

“I-I,” she stuttered. “I can’t,” she begged.

Coltair contained his rage, but she could see it clearly. He took a very deep breath.

“Fine, turn from me and you will be released,” he told her.

Swallowing, she nodded. Slowly she turned, her head bowed and her hands in front, hidden in the flowing material but twirled and tangled in the garment in her distress.

Seconds later, she was pushed hard to the bed and held down, bent over the edge. Her hands, still tangled, had no chance to free themselves and remained bound under her body now, unable to resist.

She remembered Coltair hissing in her ear that if she resisted, he’d slit her throat and then her son’s.

---

“Hurry!”

Thea waved her hand to her son so he would hop the last gap in the decking and move faster along the pier.

Dascus did hop, but he stumbled a bit too. His mother caught him and grasped his hand tight and rushed with him to keep going.

It was dark, no moon, and Thea kept her wish to the winds that her son could get away safe constant in her heart and mind. Zephen had made the arrangements. At great personal risk, he’d secured a merchant on his way through the traders' route, through Orak’Thune and ending in Riverbrook by the year’s end. He’d agreed and been paid an obscene amount to take the boy and care well for him but deliver him to the mountain village in the end. Also, he was sworn to not reveal his true name until the Riverbrook Ward, Nool, took possession of him.

Unable to stop the sound of their feet slapping on the boards, Thea chose speed over stealth on this last stretch to the boat she could now see at the end. Tiny lanterns along the gunwales rocked gently in the low swells. The sails were still furled and waiting for its final cargo.

When they got close enough, one of the lanterns lifted and the dark silhouette of a man appeared holding it.

“Ho, there!” he called, not too loudly.

“Here!” she called after. “We’re here!”

The man moved down the plank quickly. Closer, she could make out his face. He smiled, but it was serious to her.

“I’m afraid got no time for long goodbyes, my Lady,” he said to her. “We’ve got patrols this way and must leave the markers before they swing ‘round or they’ll be asking questions,” he told her, but it was not unkind.

Thea nodded, but instant hot tears had sprung. She handed the man Dascus’s bundle but turned fast and knelt to her son, taking him by the upper arms and looking him square in the eyes.

“This is for your safety, Dascus,” she told him seriously. The boy, now barely eight, only watched her in sad, uncertain distress. He did not speak; that was rare anyway. She frowned and pulled him close in a hug.

“I will always love you, my darling son!” she said, working to stem the tears. “When it is safe, I will come for you. But right now, if you don’t leave, something might happen to us both! Tell no one of your secrets, right?” she asked and pulled him apart to speak sternly. Dascus nodded dumbly. “No one!” his mother insisted.

He nodded again.

“Go on your big adventure then and live well, my love,” she added, tears spilling over and tracking down her face in the dim lantern light. “I love you!”

“I love you too, Mama,” he said and sniffed once. She grinned for him, stood and gave his little hand to the big man who took it gently. With one final nod to her, he moved to lead Dascus to the boat. Her son looked back but walked on. She blew him a kiss.

As soon as the boat was safely away, Thea turned and ran like the wind back to the palace grounds. Winds knew what would happen to her daughter if her mother were found missing. Already when Dascus was discovered gone, she’d be in trouble enough. Only her gift and her daughter from Coltair kept her alive now. She had to live just long enough to see Polara old enough to hide or escape one day too. For now, no matter what the voices told her, Thea didn’t care what he would do to her, eventually. Her baby girl didn’t deserve her father’s madness.