Inevitable

"What do you mean she ran away?"

"I am afraid she is nowhere to be found and she left a letter." Shelby answers the agitated prince.

"Where is this letter?"

"The king and queen have it, Your Highness." Brandt slams his hand on his desk.

"And to think that I was actually considering the duchess' proposal." Shelby just watches silently. "After that whole show about how bad of a person I am. She made me feel so small because of my relationship with Saga. How dare she?" Brandt scoffs. "I need you to find the whereabouts of Gary. I reckon that they ran together. They were spending too much time together." The prince runs a hand in his hair in frustration. "I bet you they are planning to elope."

"But Your Highness-" The assistant tries to contradict him.

"I don't need you to say anything right now, Shelby." Brandt interrupts. "Just do as you are told."

"Yes, my prince."

"Where is the king and queen at the moment?"

"They are in the throne room, Your Highness. They are meeting with the Dowager Duchess."

"Then, I will be joining them."

"What about your meeting with the Prime Minister of Jyvaskyla?"

"Postpone it." The prince orders as he storms out of his study.

"Yes, Your Highness." Shelby bows.

***

"Your Grace, you have been summoned by His Majesty." Thyra's maid reports.

"I believe it is about time." She takes one last sip of her jasmine tea and pushes to her feet to head to the palace. She had feared this moment for years, but it cannot be helped. Decisions always have consequences, and this is one of them. "It is inevitable."

Thyra is guided to the throne room as soon as she arrives. The room is usually used to conduct official business. Mostly when other royals from other countries or official envoys are visiting. So choosing to have the conversation there is on its own a statement.

"Your Highness." She greets the king and ignores Ylva which irritates her greatly.

"Your Grace." Ylva takes the lead. "Your granddaughter had run away."

"Is that so? And how did you come to the conclusion?"

"She left a letter behind." Ylva waves a piece of paper. "Would you like to read it?"

"No, but I am sure you will for me." The queen grins.

"It says; I do not wish to marry Brandt any longer. So, I am leaving. Don't look for me because I do not wish to be found. I just want to live a simple life and marry who I want. Farewell." Ylva throws the duchess a condescending look. "Quite scandalous, wouldn't you say?"

"And how did you figure it was her handwriting?"

"Her maid Veda confirmed it. She also saw her leave in the middle of the night." The duchess looks at the maid standing in the right corner of the room. "Speak." Ylva orders.

"L… lady Siv, left last night. I… I saw her when I was checking on the... fire in her room. She left that... letter on her vanity." Veda stutters.

"Is that so?" Thyra utters calmly. "Quite a scheme has been webbed."

"Scheme?" Ylva is losing her patience. "Then where is your granddaughter? Unless you have helped her run away."

"What about you, Ronald? Do you have anything to say?" He has been looking down with a frown since she entered the room. "Do you also think that I helped Siv run away?"

"Maybe you wanted her to marry Gary instead." Brandt says as soon as he rushes into the room. "You have been pushing for them to spend time together."

"Brandt." Ronald calls.

"Now that I think about it, seeing how close they were, maybe they were already lovers and they-" Thyra slams her cane on the marble floor. The loud sound silences the angry prince.

"I suggest you choose your next words carefully, boy." Her glare makes the hair on the back of his neck stand. "I will not stand here and listen to you tarnish my granddaughter's reputation."

"Is that a threat?" Ylva finally finds an opening.

"You can take it however you want, dear." Thyra's eyes meet Ronald.

"It seems we have given you too much freedom, maybe you have forgotten who you are speaking with." Ylva motions to the guards who surround the duchess in a blink of an eye. "You are not above the law, Your Grace."

"Ylva, you have taken this too far." The king pushes to his feet.

"Ronald, do you remember what your mother told you when she was on her deathbed?" He stares at her for a moment trying to recall the memory, but he can't. "It was about Erika."

"Enough." Ylva screams. "Seize her at once." She orders.

The guards move to obey, but Thyra strikes the floor again with her cane. This time the sound is different, because the floor cracks under it, surprising everyone in the room.

"I believe you are the one who forgot who you are addressing, Ylva." The queen's face is red with anger. "And yes, I am above your law." The duchess takes a few steps closer to the throne.

"Get her, now!" Ylva orders again. But none of them moves. "Why aren't you obeying?"

"We can't move, Your Majesty." One of them answers, struggling to even speak.

"Ronald, it is really disappointing to see what you have become." Thyra looks at her best friend's son with gentle eyes. "I am afraid I am cutting all ties with you, and Pyama." The king's eyes widen. "From this day on, Dragor is not your ally anymore."

"Are you… are you declaring war?" He asks.

"That all depends on the decisions you make in the next few weeks, Ronald." The duchess gives him a weak smile. "I do pray to the Gods that you regain your memory."

"My memory?"

"Maybe, this will help." Thyra hits the cane against the floor again, and this time, blue light emerges. "This is magic, Ronald." She slowly starts fading. "I hope the next time I see you, we don't stand on opposite sides of the battlefield." The duchess utters before completely disappearing.