Annabelle's birthday was around the corner—her true birthday. Although according to Victoria, the woman didn't celebrate it anymore considering she was probably a million years old by now. A few days had gone by since their little excursion and Emily found herself slightly disappointed that the queen never finished her thought. She'd half expected Annabelle to come clean, to say the words 'I love you' after having them almost slipped that day.
There was a part of her that wondered if the reason Annabelle didn't say the words was because she didn't actually feel that way. Emily had countless conversations with Victoria this past year and some months and every time they'd arrived at the topic of Annabelle—the wolf spoke fiercely of her and of their experience together.
Listening to Victoria tell their stories, it made Emily love...love. She often insisted Annabelle wasn't everyone's cup of tea, and that it would take years to get to the depths of who that woman really was. Emily fished around the castle for clues on what she could gift Annabelle. What does one give someone who has everything?
She decided that the only person who remained on earth—rest Geoffrey's sadistic soul—who knew what Annabelle would like, was her ex-wife. After a late breakfast, Emily made her way towards the wolf's suite. Victoria was doing much better since including the herbal tea into her daily routine-surprise, surprise. So, she knew the woman would be awake, probably getting ready to start her day.
As Emily rounded the corner to Victoria's room, laughter stopping her at the door. Specifically...Annabelle's laughter. The large door was ajar, and she couldn't help but peek through the small opening, revealing the two women deep in conversation.
There was a nagging feeling in the pit of her stomach as Annabelle chuckled again, clutching her stomach at something Victoria had probably said before the blonde's arrival.
___
The queen crossed her legs, shifting a bit as she sat beside Victoria on the edge of the bed. She brought her tea a few minutes earlier, and it seemed to have a good effect on the wolf. Every day she watched as Victoria regained her strength, today almost fully back to her old, jovial self.
"You didn't have to do this." Victoria motioned to the cup. "That's what helpers are for."
Annabelle rolled her eyes, "Please, I can bring my ex tea if I feel like."
"I think you just like using that word...ex." The wolf smacked her shoulder. "For some reason, I don't like hearing it."
The queen chuckled, her lips parting slightly.
"Anyway, you better go. I don't want to give anyone the wrong idea. You come in here every morning like clockwork, it's a wonder your girlfriend doesn't knock you out."
The queen's chuckle turned into a full laugh, one Victoria was all too familiar with. She loved the way happiness looked on Annabelle.
"Have you told her yet?"
Annabelle's laughter ended abruptly; a frown placed on her beautiful, full lips.
"Tell her what?"
"That you love her."
The queen shrugged, seemingly disinterested in the topic.
"What's it to you?"
"Why the delay?"
"You know me, I'm a slow burn."
"You're right, I do know you. The same Annabelle who told me she loved me after about three months of 'courting'." Victoria pointed out.
The taller woman groaned, dragging a hand down her face. "I don't know. I...don't know." She stared at Victoria, as if waiting for the woman to give her a solution to the confusion she felt.
"I know what you're doing, and sorry, I'm not getting involved in this one. Figure your shit out on your own Anna." Victoria pushed the woman gently, getting out of bed.
Before she could respond, a soft knock sounded at the door, followed by Emily's blonde hair peeking through the doorway.
"Come in," Victoria spoke, a small smile tugging at her lips.
"Hey Vic," the blonde strolled in, eyes flickering between the two women. "Busy?"
"I was just leaving. I've got a meeting with the council that may last a few hours." Annabelle stood, placing a soft peck on the younger woman's lips. "See you soon darling."
Emily watched the tall woman take the room in big strides, quickly leaving them behind.
"What's up blondie? How's my baby boy?" Victoria asked after she'd stopped herself from staring after the hybrid.
Emily hummed, sitting in the couch near the window. "He's okay, does not like sleeping in the crib. It's horrible trying to put him down now." She spoke thoughtfully. "But that's not what I'm here for."
"Oh?"
"Oh indeed. I wanted to know if you had any ideas about what I should get Annabelle for her birthday."
Victoria laughed, quickly covering her mouth at her own reaction. "I'm sorry," she sputtered. "I don't even remember how old she is."
That earned a deep eyeroll from Emily. "Yeah well, I don't care how old she is. I just wanna get her something nice."
"Honestly, she doesn't like presents." Victoria concluded. "If you really want to give her something...give her your patience. Be patient with her. I think that's the only thing the queen needs."
The words resonated in a way the blonde didn't expect. "Victoria..."
"Hm?" the wolf looked up from fumbling through the drawers of her dresser.
"I have so many feelings for this woman, feelings I can hardly explain. It makes me want to please her, to do everything in my power to make her happy." Emily sighed. "She was my first sexual experience, the mother of our child. I've never even been in a relationship before this one."
Victoria raised a brow, unsure of where the conversation was going.
"But...there's this nagging feeling, one that I've been avoiding, one that claws at me ever so often, that I may never be enough for Annabelle. I've ventured out of my comfort zone; done things I think she'd enjoy—"
"What about you?" Victoria cut her off. "What about making yourself happy? Pleasing yourself? Finding yourself, loving yourself?" she held the blonde's cheek, concern on her face. "You're no longer her pet Emily."
The taller woman sat beside her on the couch, giving her hand a tender squeeze. "I don't have the answers you're looking for." Maybe that was too direct? She sighed. "If something doesn't feel right, the only advice I can give in good conscience is maybe you need to address why you feel that way."
Emily gave her a small nod before insisting she should go check on the baby. The wolf tried her best not to be too harsh, but boundaries had to be set, it was a necessary evil. They would have to figure out their troubles on their own. She had more than enough on her own plate.
There was so much Victoria could say about the relationship the two women had—but she'd promised herself to stay out of it. She returned on the day of the war and the two seemed to have been in perfect sync. Their dynamic had changed so much since the day Victoria went down, and it did come as a surprise to her—at first. But she'd quickly accepted that they made each other happy. Emily having grown on her as well, she just wanted them both to be happy. Annabelle had her ways; grief ruined her. She'd slowly arrived at the conclusion that the Annabelle she knew, the princess she fell in love with was nothing close to the woman Emily experienced. She almost felt sorry for the younger woman.
And it made her feel guilty.
Victoria obviously decided to keep the baby. It wasn't a decision she took lightly, and Tristan had expressed his understanding with whatever she would decide. The fact was, she'd gone almost eighty years thinking there wasn't even a chance of her ever having a child of her own.
She chuckled dryly at the thought as she continued to get dressed. Life is funny, she decided. It's funny in a way that's almost cruel. She literally had to die for this to happen. Having only ever been with other women, she would have never found out...it wasn't her fault.
Considering what she'd gone through, there was no way she wouldn't keep the child. A drunken, depressive state left her with what she now considered to be a gift. Tristan was an amazing man after all, and a part of her knew he would be a supportive co-parent. Maybe it's also because she also knew if he wasn't, Annabelle would string him up.
She rubbed her abdomen that was still as flat as it was a week ago. Regardless of what may come, she looked forward to motherhood—to finally having something she's desperately wanted.
♕
Emily just finished feeding Gideon—again. The appetite on that boy was abominable. His other mother still hadn't returned from her meetings for the day, so the blonde wandered around with much on her mind. Once fed, Gideon nodded off. Oh, to be an infant again, eating and sleeping must be a full-time job for him.
She put him down in the crib, sticking one of his stuffed animals nearby and his trusty blanket tucked him in. The blonde called out to the nanny, letting the older woman know she'd be stepping out for a few minutes. Lorna nodded, quickly taking Emily's place in the rocking chair.
Lorna was new—perhaps in the business about a month now. She'd proved herself capable of taking care of Gideon. The walls in the castle were too thick and the building itself was far too vast for baby monitors to work, so caring for Gideon was a very direct and hands on job.
Emily walked the halls with no destination in mind. Her legs simply carried her while her mind remained a jumbled mess. It took her by complete surprise when her eyes shifted from the waxed floors to the wall ahead, the words 'East wing' embossed in gold marked the entrance to the other end of the large castle.
Goosebumps immediately found her flesh, the skin of her arms prickly as she'd unconsciously arrived at the place she'd been avoiding for months. She reached out, her fingers tracing the words of the sign. The blonde's heart rate sped up without her permission, anxiety creeping on as she entered.
She was immediately transported to the past. Everything was as she'd left it that day—despite being slightly cleaner than before, the small suite remained the same. Considering the castle had gotten a complete face lift just weeks ago, it was surprising the East wing remained untouched.
The small kitchen with a quaint counter the maids placed her meals on due to them avoiding her. She had been an outcast after all—her punishment being solitude. Emily's hand ran slowly across the granite counter, memories flooding her mind as her eyes squeezed shut.
She walked deeper into the flat, finally arriving at the doorway of the quaint room she'd spent at least four months of her life. The sheets and curtains were changed, but the room was otherwise the same as she'd left it. The last book she read still neatly placed on the nightstand. The pillow she'd spent countless nights screaming and sobbing into was fluffed and perfectly placed.
Emily could almost hear the screams and cries that echoed in the hallways all those months ago, the fear she'd felt back then rising at the back of her throat like bile she just begging to be released. The blonde swallowed, remembering the loneliness, feeling like it was her and her unborn child against the world because of the Queen's jealousy. The hatred and anger she'd felt back then locked in a cage in a part of her mind that now rattled to be released.
Her nails dug into her palms unconsciously, not feeling a lick of pain as it happened. Emily only realized what was happening when she felt the moisture on her cheeks; she was crying. The furniture in the room shook, starting light before progressing into a full-on quake. Upon realizing that she was the cause of the furniture suddenly having a mind of its own, Emily released a breath she didn't know she held.
The blonde ran from the room and out the doors, her legs almost giving up as she leaned against what became her favorite old tree all those months ago. She fought to catch her breath, what felt like a panic attack rearing its head, triggered by the memories she'd tried so hard to bury.
If her mother wasn't such a sadistic bitch, she would have never met Annabelle. The fact that their meeting and the events that transpired between them were all planned out still haunted her to that day. From the day she was born, she was destined to be with the queen, in one way or the next. She was destined to carry her child, destined to be a pawn in her mother's sick game of revenge. Her mind was reeling. Thinking that maybe what they had was remnants of whatever force brought them together for her mother's purpose. Emily cared for Annabelle deeply, maybe even had love for her—but the fact was her life was never hers to begin with.
She was spiraling.
"Emmy," her brother ran to her side. "Are you okay?"
After taking a few deep breaths, she turned to face him with a small smile. "Oh, I'm fine." "You're crying." He pointed out. The boy fished in his pocket and pulled out a wad of napkins, handing them to her.
Emily gladly took them, cleaning herself up. Her cheeks were slightly flushed in embarrassment that he'd even seen her like that. "What are you doing out here?"
Manny held his other hand up revealing a large brush. "I was in the stables about to get fresh water for Rain."
She shook her head, a true smile finding its way to her lips. "Let's go then."
He nodded excitedly, tugging her behind him as they walked up the slight incline to the massive horse stable. Tristan had been teaching Manny horseback riding and the boy took a liking to the animals almost immediately. He was always a fan of animals though, having grown up on a farm. It didn't surprise Emily that the boy was so good at caring for them.
Manny was especially taken by a specific horse. A fully black steed with such a neat coat, it always looked like it was glistening. Manny decided to name him Rain, that's what the horse reminded him of.
"Here," he handed her the brush as they entered the building. "You can brush Rain while I get his water. Brushing him always makes me feel better." The shaggy haired boy shrugged.
Emily tried to be enthusiastic as she took the brush, heading over to the large animal's bay.
"Hey Rain," she whispered, pulling the small wooden gate open. "How you doing boy?"
She pets him with her bare hand first, indeed feeling some of the tension leave her shoulders while interacting with the majestic animal. Rain huffed in what appeared to be pleasure at the contact, bobbing his head back and forth when she replaced her hand with the large brush.
Maybe Manny was onto something. Brushing Rain was almost...therapeutic.
The boy appeared five minutes later with a fresh bale of hay in one hand and a bucket of water in the next. "When did you become so strong?" she asked, causing his cheeks to heat up.
"I'm always strong Emmy."
She continued to brush the horse, a comfortable silence between them as Manny continued his routine of caring for the animal.
"Emmy..." he finally spoke up, leaning against the wooden rails of the horse's bay. "Are you and the queen...together?"
Emily had only realized in that moment she'd never actually had a conversation with Manny about the direction life took her in after leaving home. Of course, there was a lot she couldn't say due to his age—but some things, he did deserve to know.
"Well...yes we are." Before she could get into any details the boy turned to his attention fully to her, a serious look on his face.
"Dad told me what happened," he started. "He told me that she took you...that you didn't want to leave us."
She was speechless.
"Why would she do that Emmy? If someone loves you...why would they take you from your family?" he asked, genuinely confused.
Emily stared at him for a moment, shocked at just how much he'd matured since they were separated. He's right though, she thought to herself.
Something was terribly wrong.
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-Hey readers! I've written so much these last few days, the ending and remaining chapters are drafted, being fine tweaked for uploading. Thanks for reading this chapter and of course the last bit of drama has begun. See you again soon for another update.
-Reese