A sheen of tears fuzzed up Zipfarah’s eyes as she stared at her daughter sporting a winning smirk on her lips.
Did she have to do this? Zipfarah thought, wondering how they had come to this point-where she would kill her successor.
“I didn’t lie, Leonarya. You are my successor. You are the oldest.”
Leonarya shook her head with a sad laugh. “If Tempest was still alive, would I have being your successor, mother?”
Zipfarah didn’t bother answering, didn’t bother lying. Tempest would have been the successor, and they both knew it.
Zipfarah wasn’t sure how to feel about that. Yes, she was still angry that Leonarya had killed Tempest, but she had never thought it worth her own head. How could she lose two of her daughters over a human male?
She didn’t understand the complications of their relationship but her daughter, Leonarya, wasn’t one to deal well with rejection. Yet, Zipfarah found it stupid that all this feud had been because of the man. She had thought that she had taught them better. A man that they would have outlived later on, if things hadn’t gone south.
“Aren’t you thirsty for my blood, mother? You know, for killing your favorite?”
Zipfarah shook her head, and stood up. This conversation was heading nowhere. There was no need letting Leonarya know that she had been her favorite. Yes, Tempest was perfect. But it was Leonarya who reminded her of who she had been when growing up, who she had been in the arms of her husband.
Zipfarah didn’t want that soiled, and so didn’t rise to the bait. Rather, she warred between the two choices in her head. Take Leonarya captive or kill her. Her heart burnt when the latter option seemed to be the best.
The world was on the brink of chaos, on the brink of war, something she had never seen in her almost hundred and fifty years. She couldn’t let her love for a person lead to the death of billions, both humans and supernatural. One factor of being a ruler was the ability to make costly decisions, even to your own detriment.
“Are you thinking of killing me, mother?” Leonarya asked after a beat, seeing the shades of emotion on her mother’s face. She quickly stood up from the chair, seeing the two options that her mother had silently laid before her. Follow her home, or die here.
Leonarya chuckled. She stretched her hands wide, as if beckoning on a hug. “Do your worst, mother. Because I am going nowhere with you.”
A tear slipped past Zipfarah’s left eye as she heard the conviction in Leonarya’s voice. Without much ado, she lifted her hand to strike a magic, her face contorting in confusion when her hands refused to move with her mind commands, when her magic froze within her and refused to do her commands. She scowled at Leonarya. Leonarya laughed, walking toward her.
“Did you think I became a queen overnight because I was your daughter? No, mother. I paid my dues, even with my blood. When Kyran had told me that you were here, I had panicked first, you see. After all, the only way I could kill you had been through underhanded tactics like poisoning you through a close associate. But then, I had submitted important information to Legardo, and he had given me a gift. A gift that I had kept specially for this moment-although I would have to agree that I hadn’t expected it to be this soon. So, when I heard of your presence, I activated the gift. You don’t need to know what it is. Just that there are mages more powerful than you, more powerful than us. At least I was smart enough to acknowledge my shortcoming and work with him, instead of losing with the losing side.”
Leonarya didn’t mention the information she had traded, or rather shared. She had heard of Legardo’s conquest plans by mistake, and had met him for alliance . But the man had been too proud, until she had told him of the triplets, or the one that was in her care. He hadn’t believed her about the prophecy, about the triplets, until she had shared the memory with him, the memory that had consisted of her eavesdropping as Sheila told Tempest about her pregnancy and who she believed was behind it. About the prophecy she had seen in her dream, and about the research she had conducted. About the plans to escape from the pack, and about the names of the triplets.
Leonarya had bided her time, keeping tabs both on Sheila and Tempest, unknown to them. Yet, somehow the other two children had invaded her grasp. She hadn’t banked on Tempest to be aware of the children being in danger at their birth. But Freya had been enough to hold Legardo’s attention, had been enough to include her in his plans.
She laughed again when she noticed Zipfarah fighting against the magic.
“Don’t bother mother, you can’t win against it.”
Zipfarah maintained a cool facade, even when her emotions were warring within her. She felt the black magic restraining her, and couldn’t believe that it existed. To what extent had Legardo gone for his foolish desires? Did he know what he was doing, involving evil mages to his agenda? But then Zipfarah also knew that it was the least of her concerns now; it had been expected, considering the dream that she had.
“You know, for a moment, I had thought you wouldn’t do it. You know, try to kill me. Motherly bond and all that. Seems I was wrong again. Seems I overestimated my importance to you.”
There was a dry laugh filled with so much sadness that Zipfarah almost bawled out tears. The despair was so thick in the air, so thick in her daughter’s statement.
She thought to explain that the magic forthcoming from her had been to cage her daughter, but she didn’t think the latter would believe her. Leonarya would think she was doing it to save her hide.
“I would have repaid you in the same coin, but I think that Legardo will have more use for you.”
Anything for the safety of her unknown children.