The Wolf's Queen Vows

Chapter 34: The screams before dawn

The air outside was cold and still, the silence heavy before dawn. The palace lamps burned faintly. Around four in the morning, Aveloria descended the narrow stone path leading back from Galen’s residence. She had spent two full days there, away from the world’s noise. With Galen, she had found a strange, steady, calm, and almost safe peace.

Now, as her boots clicked softly against the cobblestones, she felt the creeping exhaustion set in. Her hair was loose, falling down her back. She hadn’t bothered to braid it before leaving. The guards on duty straightened when they saw her, bowing slightly before looking away. No one spoke.

She was halfway to her chambers when a sound pierced the quiet.

A scream.

It wasn’t faint or confused. It was sharp, desperate, and filled with terror. It echoed through the courtyard and bounced off the stone walls. Aveloria froze. Her heart leapt to her throat, the echo still ringing in her ears. She considered walking away momentarily, pretending she hadn’t heard it. But the sound came again, higher, rawer.

Someone was in pain.

Without thinking, she turned and followed the noise.

Her feet carried her past the royal gardens and into the west wing, where the maids’ quarters were. The corridor smelled faintly of soap and lavender, which they used to clean linens. But that comforting scent was drowned by the tension that thickened the air as she drew closer.

Voices murmured in panic. A cluster of maids stood at the end of the hall, their nightclothes rumpled, their faces pale with fear. They huddled together, whispering and pointing toward something on the ground.

Aveloria pushed through the crowd. "Move aside," she said firmly. Her tone left no room for hesitation.

The women parted, their eyes red from tears, their hands trembling. And then Aveloria saw what they were staring at.

Her breath caught. On the ground lay a body twisted in an unnatural position. The neck bent at an impossible angle, arms sprawled, fingers curled as if still trying to grasp something. The eyes were open, glossy and pitch black, like tar. A dark mark trailed from the corners of her lips down to her chin, and her skin had lost all warmth.

Aveloria took a slow step forward, her stomach tightening as she crouched beside the corpse. Her hand shook slightly when she reached out to close the woman’s eyes.

"Who found her?" she asked, her voice low.

No one answered immediately. The silence hung thick until a trembling voice whispered behind her, "I—I did. It’s Alin."

Aveloria turned. Her chest tightened when she recognized the speaker. Seren. And the dead woman on the ground—Alin.

For a moment, she just stared, unable to process it. Alin’s face, though frozen in death, still carried traces of the lively, bright-eyed girl who used to tease Seren about her nervousness. Memories came rushing back: Alin’s laughter, loyalty, and quiet defiance.

Her throat felt dry. "Alin," she whispered under her breath.

It was too familiar. Too much like before. She remembered another lifetime, another version of tragedy, when it was Seren’s lifeless body lying in her arms during the siege. But this time, fate had chosen differently.

Aveloria straightened, her face tightening. "Get the guards," she ordered one of the maids. "Now."

The maid nodded and ran off.

To another, Aveloria said, "Have the royal examiner and the morgue attendants prepare immediately. The body is to be taken to the Royal Morgue. No one touches her until then."

The women nodded, their eyes wide with fear.

Looking down again, she noticed something she hadn’t seen before. A faint trace of ash near Alin’s fingertips. She leaned closer; it wasn’t ash exactly. It glowed slightly, dark and powdery, with a scent that made her skin crawl.

Witchcraft.

The realization sent a chill through her. She’d felt something the moment she entered the corridor, a subtle pull in the air that didn’t belong. It wasn’t just death, it was residue. Magic. Dark Magic.

Aveloria rose and glanced at Seren, crying quietly as she looked at Alin’s body. Her hands shook as she clutched the edge of her gown.

Aveloria went to her. "Seren."

Seren looked up, her face blotchy and wet. " I-I don’t understand," she stammered. "She was fine last night. She said she was going to check something before sleeping. I didn’t think—"

Aveloria placed a hand on her shoulder. "Calm down. You need to tell me everything."

"I can’t—" Seren began, her voice breaking.

"Yes, you can," Aveloria said firmly. "But not here. Come with me."

She led Seren out of the corridor, ignoring the whispers behind them, and back toward her chambers. The guards saluted as they passed, clearly alarmed by the tension in her expression.

Inside, Aveloria closed the door and gestured for Seren to sit. For a long moment, neither spoke. The room was quiet except for the soft crackling of the fireplace.

Then Seren wiped her eyes and whispered, "There’s something I must tell you." She paused, thinking for a moment. "But it’s a secret."

Aveloria’s expression remained steady. "Go on."

Seren swallowed hard, her fingers twisting in her lap. "A few days ago, Alin found something strange in Eirene’s room, a small glass vial. It had a dark substance inside. She said it smelled wrong, like burnt herbs. She said she would report it to you, but wanted to know what it was first. Yesterday morning, she told me she found burn marks on one of Rowena’s dresses. She thought maybe the two were connected."

Aveloria frowned. "Burn marks?"

"Yes," Seren nodded. "She said it looked like someone had spilled acid or poison, but the fabric didn’t just burn; it changed color. She thought it was some poison remains. I told her not to get involved, but she wouldn’t listen. She said she couldn’t ignore it."

Aveloria leaned back slightly, thinking.

Seren continued tremblingly, "She said she would investigate and ask Rowena about it. But when I woke up to that scream...it was too late. Alin was—" Her words hung in the air. freēwebnovel.com

Aveloria’s mind raced. The strange feeling she’d felt earlier, the darkness in Alin’s eyes, all pointed to something unnatural. Witchcraft wasn’t everyday in the palace, but she had learned enough to recognize its traces. If Eirene truly possessed such a vial, this wasn’t just an accident.

Someone had silenced Alin.

Aveloria stood slowly and walked toward the window. "Seren," she said quietly, "does anyone else know about this?"

"No. Only Alin and I." She whispered.

"Good," Aveloria said. "Keep it that way."

Seren looked startled. "Your Grace, what do you mean?"

Aveloria turned to her, her expression calm but serious. "If Eirene and Rowena truly have ties to dark magic, then Alin’s death was a warning. Whoever did this doesn’t want anyone to uncover the truth. You must not tell anyone, not a maid, guard, or even one of my mates. Do you understand?"

Seren hesitated, then nodded. "Yes, Your Grace."

"Good."

Aveloria moved toward her writing desk and opened a small chest. She took out a small ornate box, made of carved wood and lined with silver. Inside were several jewelry pieces, rings, pendants, and bracelets. She closed the lid and handed it to Seren.

"Take this."

Seren’s eyes widened. "I can’t—"

"You can," Aveloria said firmly. "Inside are jewels you can sell. Go to the old trader’s village outside the southern gate. A woman named Vessa is there, and she’ll take you in. Tell her I sent you, and she’ll know what to do. Stay with her until I send word."

Seren shook her head. "I can’t leave you. What if something happens?"

"Something already happened," Aveloria said quietly. "And I can’t have you next. You’re not safe here, Seren. If Alin found something dangerous, the person behind it will come for you next."

Seren bit her lip, tears threatening again. "Please don’t make me go."

"I’m not asking," Aveloria said softly. "I’m telling you. This is for your protection."

Seren looked down, then finally took the box with trembling hands.

"I’ll find out what happened to her," Aveloria promised. "And I’ll give her a proper burial. You have my word."

Seren nodded weakly, unable to speak. She stood, clutching the box to her chest. "Thank you, Your Grace."

Aveloria watched her leave. When the door closed, the silence returned.

She exhaled slowly and sat on the edge of her bed. The image of Alin’s lifeless face wouldn’t leave her mind. Her eyes’ blackness and dark magic residue were all too specific to ignore.

She needed proof.

Her gaze shifted toward the drawers where she had kept the carved pendant charm Eirene had once gifted her, claiming it was for protection. Aveloria hadn’t worn it much since, but now, as she picked it up, a strange sensation ran through her hand.

Her skin prickled. The same faint pull she’d felt earlier near Alin’s body returned. Her pulse quickened.

She turned the pendant over in her palm. It was cold, colder than it should be. The carvings were faintly glowing, so faint that she wouldn’t have noticed them in brighter light. She ran her thumb across the center and felt the same residue she’d sensed in the corridor.

The same kind of magic. Her chest tightened. Eirene’s gift wasn’t just a charm. It was something else, something darker.

Aveloria set the pendant down and sat in silence, staring at it. Her mind is turning over every detail.

Someone within the palace was playing with forces they didn’t understand, or perhaps they understood all too well.

Either way, the danger was no longer distant. It was here, within her own walls.

And Aveloria knew one thing: Alin hadn’t just been killed. She had been silenced.

With her fists clutched to her sides, Aveloria swore she would uncover the truth, no matter who she had to face.