Chapter 31: The Queen’s Request and Isabella’s Reluctance
"What is this?" Olivia’s voice had a note of genuine bewilderment as she stared at the structure before them, her trained knight’s eyes taking in every detail with growing amazement.
The house stood like something from a fever dream in the midst of the modest village dwellings that seemed to mock the humble cottages surrounding it.
It reminded her of Lord Aldan’s estate in its grandeur, yet there was something distinctly different about it—something more personal, more intimate in its design. Where Aldan’s mansion spoke of inherited privilege and generational wealth, this house whispered of careful planning and individual vision.
I could practically see the gears turning in her head as she tried to reconcile what she was seeing with what she knew about our simple village life. The truth was, I had built it myself—every stone laid with my own hands. But explaining that to a royal guard who barely believed a village boy could rescue a princess? That conversation could wait.
"Come in," I said, moving toward the front door. My fingers found the brass handle—another detail that would probably raise questions—and pushed the heavy oak door open.
Mom wasn’t here, which meant she was likely holed up in her laboratory hut again, probably bent over some new experiment or potion that had captured her attention.
As for Rosaluna, she was still with Isadora.
"Take a seat, I’ll be right back," I told Olivia, gesturing toward the sitting area where comfortable chairs were arranged around a low table.
I left her there, taking in her surroundings with those sharp knight’s eyes, while I went to fetch Isabella.
How exactly was I supposed to explain this situation? How do you tell your overprotective mother that the Queen of Briaran wants to borrow her son for what could be a dangerous mission?
Because if there was one thing I knew with absolute certainty about Isabella, it was that she was fiercely protective of both Rosaluna and me. If she had her way, we’d never leave the village boundaries—never venture beyond the safety of familiar streets and known faces. We’d live our entire lives within these walls, safe and small and completely isolated from the world beyond.
The problem was, I still didn’t fully understand what had made her so afraid. What shadows from her past made her flinch at the thought of us leaving? What dangers did she see that I couldn’t?