Maria's body was a battlefield. Aedric woke instantly, jolted by her violent, uncontrolled shaking.

  "Maria!" His sleep-roughened voice was thick with panic.

  He rolled over, pulling her onto her side to face him. Her body was seized by deep, silent convulsions, like an epileptic fit, a terrifying physical reaction to the immense power that had just flooded her soul.

  "Maria, what is it? What is happening?" Aedric roared, abandoning his cloak of cold command. He held her tight, his heart hammering against her trembling body.

  He brought his hands up to cup her face, and his voice shattered into pure terror. "Tarín! Guards! Tarín!"

  He had seen it. Blood, bright and dark, was starting to ooze slowly from her nostrils, the corners of her eyes, and her mouth. The raw power coursing through her was overwhelming the fragile vessel of her body.

  The chamber door burst open, and Tarín, Aedric's chief guard, rushed in, followed by two armed men.

  "My King! What—" Tarín froze at the sight of the King holding the convulsing, bloodied Queen.

  "Get the physician!" Aedric barked, his voice laced with unadulterated panic, his regal control utterly gone. "Now! And clear the corridors!"

  Aedric shifted Maria into his lap, rocking her gently. Her eyes remained closed, her face pale, stained with the terrible leakage of blood. The Iron Wolf, who had ordered countless executions without a flicker of emotion, was utterly undone, reduced to a desperate man cradling the fragile life he had only just learned to value.

  The chamber was chaos. Aedric, his face pale beneath his beard, held Maria in his lap, shouting repeated, useless commands for help. Tarín, his guard, was gone, scrambling to find the physician.

  Varin entered first, out of breath, hair disheveled clearly pulled from sleep. Behind him came the physician: Master Elend. A quiet middle-aged, small, stooped man known for his calm pragmatism and knowledge of Northern herbs and bone-setting whose hands usually steady as stone. Tonight, his hands froze mid-air the moment he saw Maria.

  Aedric barked, "Do something!"

  Elend snapped back into motion, kneeling at Maria's side. "Your Majesty, what....Gods!" Elend gasped, rushing to the bed.

  Aedric shifted slightly, allowing the physician access to Maria, but his grip remained fierce. "She seized. Uncontrollably. There is blood, Master Elend. From her nose and eyes. Her skin is burning and ice-cold all at once."

  Master Elend gently pushed aside the damp, blood-stained linen. He examined Maria's closed eyes and trembling limbs, his fingers brushing against the still-faint silver glow beneath her skin a residual effect of the Sunfire's surge. His practiced, mundane examination was suddenly interrupted by something deeper.

  Elend's eyes, usually dull with age, flickered, widening almost imperceptibly. He recognized the signs. Not of illness, but of a catastrophic magical overload, a tearing of the veil between realms. He had seen similar symptoms once, decades ago, in a secluded village near the border. The blood was the body's sacrifice, the physical price of hosting something too vast for mortal flesh. He knew instantly: Maria was not merely sick; she was a witch of immense power.

  He quickly masked the recognition, his expression reverting to one of solemn confusion. The fear that settled in his stomach was cold and absolute. He knew the King's decree: witches were executed. He knew the consequences of revealing this truth, both for the Queen and for himself.

  "It is a terrible shock, Your Majesty," Elend muttered, buying time. He wiped the blood from her face with a clean cloth. "I need space. Tarín, bring me warm compresses and water."

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  As the guards scurried, Elend began his treatment, pressing simple herbs to her temples, but he also pressed a small, smooth piece of dried root, a neutralizer, into her palm, hoping it would help absorb some of the residual power.

  Maria clawed her way back to consciousness like someone swimming up through dark, heavy water. Her lashes fluttered, stuck together from dried blood. Every breath tasted of metal.

  At first, everything was blurred shapes, sounds, voices. The world was too bright, too loud, too close. She felt hands on her, warm, trembling hands, and a low voice she knew by instinct more than clarity. "Maria... Maria, look at me." Aedric's voice raw, torn, terrified.

  She blinked again, and the room sharpened into painful focus. There were people everywhere. Torchlight flickered over their armor. The air was crowded, heavy with fear. Tarín stood rigid by the doorway, breath heaving. Two guards pressed themselves against the wall, unsure whether to flee or kneel. Varin, steady Varin was pale, his hands knotted at his sides, eyes bright with barely contained panic.

  And Aedric... Aedric was on the bed, holding her like she was a dying ember he refused to let go.

  Her heart lurched. She tried to push herself upright, but her limbs trembled violently, as though her bones had forgotten how to hold her. "Wha... why..." Maria whispered, voice thin as thread. She saw blood smeared across Aedric's hands, her pillow, her gown. She touched her face and gasped, feeling the thick crust drying at her temple.

  Aedric caught her wrist gently, desperately. "No don't move. Don't move, Maria. You collapsed. You convulsed." His voice shook. "You were bleeding from your eyes. From your mouth. I thought—I thought—"

  He couldn't finish. The Iron Wolf's throat locked, and he bowed his head, pressing his forehead briefly to her shoulder like a man drowning. Maria felt a flicker of fear not for herself, but for how completely unnerved he was.

  She looked past him then, her gaze drifting to the man kneeling at her other side Master Elend. His usually placid face was carved with dread. His hands hovered over her, unsure where to touch, what to address first. His spectacles sat crooked on his nose, as if he had thrown them on in a rush.

  But it wasn't his disarray that made her breath catch. It was his eyes.

  He looked at her truly looked and she felt it like cold water down her spine. He knew. He had seen the silver glow under her skin. He had recognized the impossible.

  Their eyes met. A moment. A silent, terrifying understanding. Please, Maria thought desperately, without words, without breath. Please don't speak. Please don't ruin me. Not now. Not here.

  Elend's throat bobbed. He blinked once, twice; slowly, deliberately and she understood. He would not expose her. Not yet. But his fear was unmistakable... and not for his own life. For hers.

  Varin stepped closer then, the hem of his robe brushing the floor. He studied her with piercing scrutiny not the gaze of a friend, but of a man who had been raised on old texts and war-room whispers. "Your Majesty..." Varin murmured, bowing his head. "Forgive my intrusion, but did you... feel anything? Before the episode?"

  There was weight behind the question. A pressure. He sensed something was wrong, perhaps not what, but enough to rouse every instinct he possessed. Varin had survived too many courts and too many kings not to trust that feeling. Something was stirring, and he did not like it.

  Maria swallowed hard. "I... had a nightmare," she murmured, her voice trembling. "Terrible. Vivid." The lie tasted like ash.

  Aedric's head snapped up. His hand tightened around hers as if anchoring her to the world. "It was more than a nightmare," he snarled at Elend, fury born from fear. "Tell me what truly happened. Tell me what you see."

  Elend inhaled slowly. Maria watched him, every heartbeat loud in her ears. She saw the moment he decided. The moment he lifted the burden of truth only to bury it beneath a gentler falsehood.

  Master Elend stepped forward, his face a perfect mask of bewildered authority. He lied. "The Queen speaks true, Your Majesty. I find no fever, no physical sign of damage, and the fit has ceased entirely. It is a mystery. Perhaps a violent, prolonged nightmare. Her constitution is incredibly strong, remarkably strong, to recover so quickly."

  He saw the fierce gratitude in Aedric's eyes and the guarded, desperate silent plea in Maria's. He had bought them time.

  Varin, a man who read people like battlefields, was staring at her with a tight, unreadable expression, suspicion whispering beneath his calculation, but he bowed deeply.

  Elend returned later that morning with a prepared decoction, a calming tonic and a powerful nutrient blend. He dismissed Aedric's guards and waited until the King had Maria settled comfortably among pillows, drinking the bitter brew.

  Aedric stood at the foot of the bed, his demeanor now rigid with regained control, though his anxiety remained visible in the tightness around his eyes. "Tell me the truth, Master Elend. What caused this?"

  Elend adjusted his spectacles, his voice measured. He had made his choice. Execution would solve nothing; the kingdom still needed its queen, and perhaps, this Queen needed protection from the forces Aedric sought to control. He would keep her identity a secret, but he needed a plausible cover story one that would also shield her from unnecessary stress.

  "Your Majesty," Elend began, bowing deeply. "The cause is not illness, but a beginning. The Queen's body is undergoing immense strain. The sudden seizure and the bleed... they are symptomatic of a great physical burden, and the sudden influx of a new life force."

  He paused, letting the heavy implication sink in.

  "The Queen is with child, Your Majesty. You are going to have an heir."

  A stunned silence fell over the chamber. Maria froze, the cup half-raised to her lips, the memory of her Sunfire-fueled dream instantly eclipsed by the overwhelming, mortal reality of pregnancy. A child. Aedric's child.

  Aedric's face, which had been drawn with exhaustion and fear, broke slowly, not into a smile, but into an expression of profound, shock-laced relief and something Maria had never seen: utter, unmasked joy. The kingdom was safe. He was safe. The line was secured.

  "An heir," Aedric whispered, the words heavy with disbelief and triumph. He walked to the bed, not looking at Elend, but only at Maria.

  Master Elend bowed low again. "I recommend complete rest for the Queen, Your Majesty. No stress. No long journeys. The first weeks are fragile. The seizure was a sign the body is already working too hard to sustain the new life."

  He left the King staring at the Queen, triumph and tenderness warring in his eyes. A child might save her life. But her magic could still destroy it. A witch with a tyrant's child, Elend thought grimly, pulling the door shut behind him. The greatest danger in Eldrath is no longer the magic, but the secrets it breeds.