The Lost Prince and The Demon King [BL]

The Queen's carriage rattled as it made its way through the woods. The baby cradled in her arms fussed and scrunched up his tiny face. 

"Hush, my love," the Queen said, caressing the baby's cheek lovingly.

She drew back the velvet curtain to peer into the darkness. The ancient oaks loomed overhead, their branches twisting together to block out what little moonlight remained this close to dawn. The wheels jolted over a root, and her son let out a thin cry.

"We're nearly there, Your Majesty," her driver called from outside, his voice too loud in the otherwise silent night.

The Queen nodded, though he couldn't see her. Her fingers tightened around the silk blanket wrapping her youngest son. Second-born, second-loved – but no less precious for it. If only there had been another way.

The carriage slowed to a halt in a small clearing. Here, the trees grew so close together that their trunks seemed to merge. The air felt different – heavier, charged with something that made her skin prickle.

"Wait here," she commanded her driver as she stepped down, clutching her baby to her chest. Her silk slippers sank slightly into the damp earth, mud dirtying the hems of her dress. 

Walking through the uneven terrain after giving birth only a few hours ago wasn't good for her. Her legs ached, and her back felt as if someone had taken a hammer to it. 

She wiped the sweat from her brow and kept walking, ignoring the way her body protested. This was too important. This was necessary. 

The Queen lost track of time as she walked. She silently begged whatever gods were watching to please help her.

Just one more step. Please, just one more. 

The tight circle of oaks finally gave way and she almost stumbled into an uneven patch of forest where nothing grew, clutching her baby tightly to her chest. Moonlight spilled over her, revealing small white blossoms lining the otherwise barren space. 

"Your Majesty."

A figure emerged from between the trees, tall and lean, wearing robes that seemed to shift between deep purple and absolute darkness. His long beard moved as he walked slowly toward her. The Clan Leader's face was partially obscured by a hood, but she could see the gleam in his eyes.

His voice was smooth as honey but with an underlying current that reminded her of a snake moving over her feet. "I must admit, I didn't expect you to come," he mused.

"You know why I'm here." The Queen lifted her chin, summoning every ounce of royal dignity she possessed, ignoring the bead of sweat that rolled down the side of her face. "You're the only one who can help."

He circled her slowly, and she forced herself to remain still. "The great and honorable clans shun us. They call our magic corrupt, unnatural. Yet here you are, seeking that very magic." A smile played at the corners of his mouth. "How desperate you must be."

The baby stirred, and the Queen adjusted her hold. "Speak plainly and name your price. I do not have time to banter with you."

"Straight to business then? I imagine our esteemed king must be anxious for news of his son and heir." He stopped in front of her. "Very well. I want legitimacy. Recognition. A seat at court and the Queen's public support for my clan's... unique abilities."

She had expected as much, but her heart still clenched. To endorse their magic would scandalize the court, alienate her allies. The other clans would be outraged. The Western Capital would gain even more power. Supporting him could destroy everything. Yet when she looked down at her son's innocent face, she knew her answer.

"You'll have it," she said firmly. "But only after you keep your end of the bargain."

He raised an eyebrow. "You don't trust me, Your Majesty?"

"Would you, in my position?"

He laughed, the sound echoing strangely around them. "No, I suppose not. Tell me again what bargain you made with… it."

The Queen swallowed hard. "It promised to preserve my husband's bloodline, to ensure our dynasty would continue. But the price..." She closed her eyes briefly. "The price was one I cannot pay."

She remembered the precise words. Remembered thinking the terms were simple. But then the unexpected had happened, and she found the price wasn't one she could stomach.

"And now you seek to cheat fate itself." He sounded almost admiring. "By sending him to a place devoid of magic, where it cannot reach him."

"Can you do it?" She tried to contain the desperation in her voice, but failed. 

"Oh yes." He reached out and traced a symbol in the air with long and practiced fingers. It hung there, glowing faintly purple. "There are other worlds, other dimensions. I can send him somewhere safe, somewhere he can grow up free from the claim you subjected him to. But..." His eyes glittered. "Are you certain? Once done, it cannot be undone. I cannot reach him in that place. You will never see him again."

The Queen's eyes prickled with tears, but she forced them back. "Better never to see him again than to lose him to my hubris. Better to know he lives somewhere, even if I cannot hold him than to watch him..." She couldn't finish the sentence.

He nodded slowly. "Very well. Give him to me."

This was the moment she had dreaded. Her arms seemed to lock up, refusing to release their precious burden. The baby opened his eyes – so like his father's – and looked up at her trustingly. 

"I love you," she whispered, pressing a kiss to his forehead. "I will always love you. Remember that, please. Please remember that." Then, before she could change her mind, she handed her precious bundle to the man.

The Clan Leader cradled the child with surprising gentleness. He began to move his free hand in intricate patterns, leaving trails of purple light in the air. The symbols he drew were like nothing the Queen had ever seen, twisting in ways that hurt her eyes and made her want to recoil. The air grew thick, heavy with power, and a high-pitched whine filled her ears.

This was dangerous and forbidden magic. No human eyes should be allowed to witness such a thing, let alone wield it. This was something left for gods and abominations. 

When he stopped moving his fingers, the forest around them had fallen completely silent. There was no sound of birds or insects and the very air around them seemed to have retreated. It was as if they hung suspended in a bubble devoid of all life. 

"Remember our bargain," the Clan Leader said, his voice distorted as if coming from very far away. "Your backing, Your Majesty. Your complete support."

The Queen swallowed, trying to find her voice in all that unsettling stillness. 

"You have my word," she managed to say, her own voice echoing hollowly.

The symbols around them flared almost blindingly bright. With one final flourishing gesture of his hand, the baby was gone. No sudden flash of light, no sound. Simply there one moment and gone the next, as if he had never existed at all.

The Queen stood frozen, staring at the Clan Leader's now empty arms. The air gradually returned to normal, the strange symbols fading away to nothing.

Sounds slowly trickled into to where they stood, the forest timidly reaching out to see if the threat had passed. 

"It is done," the Clan Leader said quietly. "He lives, Your Majesty, but in another world entirely."

She nodded stiffly. "I thank you, Clan Leader. And I trust the bargain struck here will be discreetly remembered."

He smiled in what she thought was a reassuring way. It was a poor attempt. 

"Of course, Your Majesty." He bowed in deference. "I am, after all, your loyal and devoted subject."

His words made her skin crawl, made her want to run away. She did neither of those things. 

With whatever dignity she could muster, the Queen turned and walked back to her carriage. Her dress got caught on a fallen branch and when she pressed one hand against the trunk of a nearby tree for support, something sharp sliced across her palm. She righted herself, ignoring the tearing sound and the blood trickling down her fingers as she pulled herself free. 

The driver helped her in without a word and handed her a clean handkerchief. The Queen numbly pressed it against her palm and barely registered as the carriage began to move again, leaving that place and its unsettling magic behind. 

Only then, hidden behind the carriage's curtains, did the Queen finally break. Silent sobs wracked her body as she clutched her chest, her arms, looking for the warmth of the baby that had been there. 

She had saved him – but at what cost to her heart? She alone would bear this horrible secret and the bargains she'd made in the dark. 

The carriage rattled on through the night, carrying her back to a palace where she would have to lie to her husband, her King, and pretend her second son had never existed at all.