Swords & Secrets || BeckFreen [Completed]

Chapter 22

Becca awoke to find herself alone, Freen absent from her side. Hastily, she ventured outside in search of Irin, only to witness guards coercing her into a carriage. Irin silently gestured for Becca not to resist, hinting that they were from Sylvanaria.

As one of the guards seized Becca's hand, the surrounding onlookers cowered in fear. Reluctantly, Becca complied, allowing the guards to escort her.

"What is your connection to Freen?" demanded one of the guards inside the carriage, his tone aggressive.

"How dare you speak to your future Empress in such a manner?" Becca retorted, though her words were met with mocking laughter.

The guard sneered, "Future Empress? Our Crown Prince would never see you as anything but a mere knight. You resemble a man in women's attire, and your skills are no match for our finest knights."

Shame flooded Becca's gaze as she replied, "I asked her to aid me in a quest. Where is she?"

"It matters not. If the Crown Prince learns of your defiance, you'll face the torture chamber. I eagerly await your execution," he spat, delivering a violent slap.

Upon arrival in Sylvanaria, the guards manhandled Becca, thrusting her before the emperor. Humiliated and bewildered, Becca pondered her transgression. Why had she been subjected to such abuse?

"Lady Becca!" exclaimed the Crown Prince, rushing to her aid. Becca's gaze met Saint's, the Crown Prince she had last encountered before departing Seraphoria for battle. Saint had once offered her a life of luxury, but she had declined due to her betrothal. And now, she discovered his true identity as the Crown Prince. "Who inflicted these wounds upon her?" he demanded.

The guards bowed, trembling. "Sire, she resisted our orders. She refused to come willingly," they lied.

"Lies," Becca whispered weakly. "They lie," she affirmed, clutching Saint's support as fatigue and pain overcame her.

"All guards responsible for mistreating the future Empress will face immediate execution!" declared Saint, his fury palpable. However, the Emperor intervened, halting Saint's decree.

"What madness is this?" questioned the Emperor. "Punishment is warranted, but not this extreme, Prince."

"Anyone who harms my Empress will face the consequences, Your Highness. I will not hesitate to deliver justice myself," vowed Saint, aiding Becca to her feet.

With the Emperor's ailing health, Saint assumed sole responsibility for the Empire, his mother also incapacitated.

In her chambers, Saint arranged for Becca's care, expressing remorse for her ordeal. He had explicitly instructed against harming her. What had prompted such brutality from the guards?

"I'm relieved you're safe now, Lady Becca," Saint murmured, gently tucking stray hair behind her ear. Grateful that her face bore no visible bruises, Becca couldn't help but wonder what had led to the guards' merciless assault.

"I'm not here for you," Becca asserted. "They took Freen. I awoke to find her gone. Where is she?"

"Calm yourself," urged Saint, steadying her. "Freen is unharmed. You'll see her later. For now, rest and prepare for dinner. All are eagerly awaiting your presence."

As Becca hesitated to inquire further, servants entered, and Saint excused himself.

---
The evening arrived, and Becca found herself seated among the royal family, the current Empress by the Crown Prince's side. Saint admired her transformation, clad in attire far removed from her usual armor.

"Join us, dear. Let us await His Imperial Majesty's arrival," the Empress beckoned, her frail form belying her determination to be present.

"I'm grateful for your hospitality, Your Majesty," Becca replied with a melancholic smile. She had no desire to marry Saint, yet escape seemed futile given the vast distance between Seraphoria and Sylvanaria.

"Hear ye! All rise for His Imperial Majesty!" proclaimed the herald, prompting everyone to stand as the Emperor entered, flanked by the Princesses of Seraphoria and Sylvanaria. "Together with the Princess of Seraphoria—Princess Saya and the Imperial Princess, Princess Sarocha."

Becca's gaze fixed on Freen, standing beside the Emperor, with Irin at her side. Irin, the missing Princess of Seraphoria? Her numerous connections suddenly made sense, from the hidden treasures to her adept archery skills. Yet, the revelation that Freen was not only a princess but also beloved by the Empire left Becca stunned.

"Greetings, Your Majesty," they chorused, bowing respectfully.

Becca remained transfixed on Freen, memories flooding her mind: their clashes, their shared curses, and the unexpected blossoming of affection. Irin had been right—Freen was beyond her reach, a mere knight paling in comparison to the Imperial Princess.