The west wing of Verita's fortress was a simple rectangle made of stone. To eliminate the threat of monster's breaking into the royal bedrooms, windows had been placed sparingly – but as the air couldn't flow, the rooms were cold and musty. Although Elanthin had grown used to it over the years, her bedroom wasn't her favorite place to be.

Elanthin took a long look at the suitcases standing by the foot of her fur-covered mattress. They were barely held together by a couple dozen worn-out straps and clasps. The maids had done their best to pack whatever official clothing they could find into these few leather cases. Elanthin had never requested for more, because packing light was preferable, when you had to be prepared for a fight – or flight – at all times.

"What will I do with all this baggage?"

Myrel twitched. "Whatever does Your Majesty mean?"

She knows, Elanthin thought to herself, but she is too scared to speak about it in front of me. Even though Myrel had served her since childhood, the maid had never dared to defy her. No matter how lenient Elanthin had been with her, there had always been a decided distance between them.

Of course, that didn't apply only to Myrel. It was of no use to treat anyone in this castle as a friend, because as long as she carried the surname Verita, she would never have any. The blood in her veins made her royalty amongst the discarded and exiled – but it also frightened people who had heard the stories of House Verita's talents. Her heritage was a gift and a curse but her education had made her strong. Thanks to a childhood spent between steel and blood, she'd been able to survive countless battles against the monsters from the Deep, while unluckier ones had been slaughtered like cattle.

Elanthin could feel the slight tremor in her hands growing. It had started a few weeks ago, when she'd stood on the endless cliffs which separated the Plains from the abyss. Whenever she thought about the darkness lurking within, the tremor became more noticeable. Elanthin was unsure about the cause; maybe it was rage about the soldiers who had fallen to defend their kin; maybe it was fear for her own life. How much longer would she have been able to hold out for?

She would never find out.

"Never mind", said Elanthin calmly. It was easy for her to hide her emotions as she'd been trained in it from early childhood on. Royalty wasn't supposed to appear weak, especially when they were surrounded by mortal threats. "Are the servants done with their preparations?"

Myrel nodded and the tension left her body. Her duties must be a topic she was more comfortable with – at least in this aspect, nothing differentiated the maid from her master. "Everything is ready for Your Majesty's departure. Unless ... the plans have changed?"

Elanthin looked at Myrel with a faint smile. "Thank you. But there will be no changes."

"No one would mind, I'm sure. I for one think that this whole deal is unfair to Your Majesty." The maid's round face had gotten scrunched up with frustration. "Why should Your Majesty have to risk being imprisoned by these bastards all by herself. What if you can never return?"

Suddenly, Elanthin felt like laughing. The thought that Myrel chose this situation to challenge her words for the first time was strangely funny to her.

"I appreciate your concern, Myrel, but my decision is final." And imprisonment was the smallest of Elanthin's worries.

The maid did not return the smirk, which Elanthin offered her. Instead, she tugged at a loose thread on her sleeve.

The servant's uniform was a simple dress held together by a short leather corset made out of monster skin – like most of the commoner's clothing–, and it was slowly falling apart after being worn everyday for months. The Plains didn't offer their residents much of anything so the state of Myrel's uniform couldn't be helped.

"If Your Majesty forgives my insolence ... what exactly will happen if you surrender to Gratia?"

She already knows, thought Elanthin wearily. But as she knew what Myrel wanted to hear, she kept her smile and answered in a light tone.

"I don't know exactly. Since they'll be happy to finally get a hold on house Verita, I suppose they might treat me rather nicely. Perhaps I'll be allowed to return and live on the Plains quietly."

The sigh of relief which escaped Myrel's thin lips was barely audible but Elanthin caught it. She didn't feel guilty for lying. After she'd handed her crown and life to the Gratians, the maid would be told about the truth anyway.

Hopefully they will treat our servants kindly, Elanthin thought. There was no way of knowing if her personal maid would be punished alongside the last of house Verita. Even though the letter had contained assurances about the people's safety, she couldn't rely on a stranger's words. If the situation had been less hopeless, Elanthin would've never considered the offer, but the way that things were, a fighting chance was all she could give her people.

Even if it meant to sacrifice her own life.

Her stomach felt like a bottomless pit but it didn't matter. She knew what she had to do as queen and nothing would stop her; not advisor Vax, who'd used every chance he got to lament about her decision; nor the confusion amongst her people, after she'd given a statement about her intentions to surrender to the Gratians in return for protection. She understood their emotions since House Verita had always prided itself in the fact that they never gave up – not even when they were faced with exile. Still, their disappointment wasn't allowed to deter her.

Thankfully she had no friends, who could come to her crying and knowing her weaknesses – a small relief, as it had caused her much loneliness as a child. All in all, her decision had been received for what it was: a direct and irrefutable order from the sole ruler of the Forlorn Plains.

Elanthin was glad that there hadn't been direct opposition from the royal guard but Phygras' content nod hadn't felt right to her either. Did he fully understand what her surrender meant? That she would lose her life to satisfy an enemy ruler?

With this, house Gratia would finally achieve their ultimate triumph over Verita and rule over the whole continent.

As she brooded over her desperate decision, an unwelcome thought gripped Elanthin. Maybe this outcome was for the best, even if it meant the end of Verita's bloodline. If her people were allowed to take residence in the kingdom of Gratia, they wouldn't need to fear monsters anymore. The Eternal Barrier would protect their crops and children from the Deep's darkness.
How could she ever compare her selfish wish to live against these benefits?

Elanthin gestured for her maid to come closer and Myrel obeyed promptly.

"Her Majesty wishes for something?"

"Her Majesty wishes to leave." Elanthin did not care that her tone could be interpreted as mocking. She was tired and after all, this day could be her last as queen of the exiles. She would end her reign publicly with honor and dignity but that did not mean she couldn't mope around for a bit in private. Especially in front of Myrel, who'd seen her grow up.

"Then I will accompany Her Majesty to the carriage."

Myrel's answer carried a slight resemblance to her own cocky tone and Elanthin smiled. For the first time in days, it felt genuine.

"Forget the wagon, Myrel, and let's go by horse. I want to feel the wind in my hair."

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