Swords & Secrets || BeckFreen [Completed]

Chapter 23

"Well, Lady Becca, please enlighten us about your experiences on the battlefield. They say you were merely fourteen when you ventured there, correct?" inquired the Emperor.

Becca nodded, a soft smile gracing her lips. "The battlefield is a realm distinct from the tales spun by storytellers during my youth. They painted it as a domain ruled by swords and veiled intentions."

"Swords and secrets?" echoed the Empress, her brow furrowing. "What sort of secrets?"

"Indeed," Becca affirmed, her gaze thoughtful. "In warfare, one must unravel the hidden strategies of their adversaries. What appears as a plan may be a decoy, a ruse to deceive. Only by uncovering their secrets can one discern their vulnerabilities."

"Remarkable insight," remarked the Empress, her tone contemplative. "My own health has barred me from the field of battle, yet your perspective sheds new light on its complexities."

Freen, by her mother's side, tenderly caressed her shoulder, eliciting a smile from the Empress. Observing their bond, Becca couldn't help but wonder about past conversations regarding Freen's parents. Had she spoken ill of them? The details eluded her, lost in the recesses of memory.

"I was unaware of your acquaintance with the Imperial Princess," interjected the Emperor, breaking the momentary silence. "How did this come to be?"

"I requested the princess—Freen, that is—to accompany Lady Becca here," Saint explained with a smile directed at Becca. "Considering the princess's desire to visit Seraphoria, I acceded to her request on one condition."

"The princess is ever the cunning diplomat," sighed the Emperor, addressing Freen directly. "When will you heed the lessons of restraint?"

"My travels have afforded me valuable insights, Your Majesty. I would urge you to consider visits to realms like Celestria and Seraphoria; they offer much to behold," Freen suggested warmly.

Becca noted the shift in Freen's demeanor. Once stoic and aloof, she now exuded a newfound modesty. It was a transformation that left Becca puzzled, altering her perception of the princess she once knew.

Throughout dinner, the conversation turned to Irin and her journey to Valeria. Becca, mindful of omitted details and a commitment to truth, chose restraint over falsehoods.

Later, while others retired to their chambers, Becca sought solace in the palace garden, gazing upon the night sky. Amidst the chill, her thoughts wrestled with unanswered questions. What machinations had orchestrated Irin's clandestine voyage? Did the King of Seraphoria harbor knowledge of his daughter's whereabouts? The enigma gnawed at her consciousness.

"Lady Becca," called a familiar voice, drawing her from reverie. It was the crown prince, her betrothed. "What brings you to these gardens at this hour? Are you lost?"

"I am quite well, Prince. I require no assistance," she replied, her voice subdued.

"You appear troubled, my lady. What weighs upon your mind?" he inquired gently.

A multitude of concerns flooded her thoughts: impending nuptials, Freen's concealed truths, and Irin's mysterious journey. How could she confide in the crown prince?

"Are you still pondering Freen's past transgressions?" Saint's words interrupted her turmoil, his gaze meeting hers. "Allow me to accompany you to your chambers; I shall elucidate her tale along the way."

Becca acquiesced, her curiosity piqued. As they walked, Saint recounted a narrative woven from intrigue and obligation, beginning with the demise of Becca's father.

"His Majesty learned of your father's possession of the stone—a gem of unparalleled significance, rumored to confer dominion upon its holder. Though your father declined the throne, my father proposed a union between you and him, with you as the conduit for the stone," Saint explained, a wistful tone coloring his words.

"So, I was meant for your father?" Becca interjected, her astonishment palpable.

"Yes," Saint confirmed with a chuckle. "Your father's passing ignited a frenzy, with rumors swirling that you bore the stone. Fearing for your safety, I entrusted Freen with safeguarding you, tasking her to secure the necklace to divert suspicion."

Becca's realization dawned, her heart heavy with newfound understanding. "Her deception stemmed from a pledge, not malice."

"Indeed," Saint affirmed, offering reassurance. "Rest now, for tomorrow holds meetings with ministers and introductions to our people."

As Becca retreated to her chambers, a solitary figure caught her eye: Freen, tears glistening in the moonlight.