DEMON CRY

74.

A chill ran down Felicia's spine as she walked through the castle gates surrounded by many warriors. Before this would be precisely how they would welcome her after a conquest but with much fanfare. There used to be trumpets, flowers, and a lot of cheers. Now, they were all reduced to hoarse whispers. 

She clutched Alistair's hand and made sure he was right behind her. On the other hand, was the scroll the Crown Princess had given her. It was the only immunity Felicia had- or else she would be executed. 

'Mother,' Alistair whispered from behind her. 'Why are they staring at us?'

'I-ignore them,' she stammered. 'Don't look at them.' 

'But I'm scared.' 

She squeezed his hand and summoned a smile. 'Don't be. I'll protect you.' 

Protect him? The voice inside her sniggered, you can't even protect yourself. 

That was true- but Amara's words meant something, right? She was the Crown Princess! It had to mean something!

The Throne Hall was colder. Felicia was once adored by the Queen but now the sovereign appeared to be completely detached. The former Frisir was barely able to muster the courage to inquire about her baby. 

She knelt before the Crown and ushered Alistair to do the same. She had instructed him not to speak while they were in there. Lucky for her, he was an obedient child. 

'My King, my Queen,' she spoke. Her voice wavered. 'I have returned.' She let go of Alistair's hand to hold up the scroll in both her hands. Bowing her head and lifting her arms, she said, 'The Crown Princess sends her regards. She will soon conquer the Demon Kingdom and avenge those who have fallen.' 

Someone walked up to her and took the scroll. She didn't dare look up but judging by the red boots, she knew that it was Phoebe. She felt sick again. During her pregnancy, they bonded deeply. Did she think that Felicia was a traitor as well?

The daughter of a traitor is a traitor. 

What's worse is- the wife of the traitor is a traitor. 

Then what about their children? Were they traitors as well?

Rage bubbled in her chest. She wanted to storm into the dungeons and demand an answer from her father... and Jeremiah! What was that foolish man thinking when he decided to get into this madness? The duo had doomed her!

Her heart raced as she thought about the newborn she had left under the care of the Queen. Would she ever see him again?

'Who is the boy?' The King's voice was calm and yet at the same time, it struck her with fear.

She lowered her head. 'His name is Alistair, my King. I have adopted him.'

'You harbour demons now?'

'My apologies, my King but he is but a child.'

'Children do not remain the children forever.'

It was a precarious situation. Alistair shuffled on his knees beside her. Beads of sweat rolled down the side of her forehead. 

'You should be grateful to the Crown Princess. Without her kind words in your favour, you would die, along with the men in your family.'

She blinked.

Did that mean...

'Felicia Starfire, the Frisir, the First Warrior, hear the verdict,' Phoebe began, 'You are hereby stripped of your titles and your merits. You are never to step into any Dithrai fort or associate yourself with the royals. Your heirs will be raised by you, never to associate with the royals ever again.'

Felicia cried.

More than tears of sorrow, they were tears of joy. Alistair glanced at his mother and fisted his hands. She noticed this and hugged him. 'I'm not upset,' she whispered.