Villainus || Folkelore

Epilogue

Research consumes me. I need to know what this— this thing is that sits on my shoulder day and night and only seems to be visible to me. It's creepy.

The only thing that takes me away is Demia, my beautiful daughter. She came into this world exactly four weeks from the day Demetrius— the day he—

I still can't even think of the word. A ceremonial funeral was held for him, but I didn't go. I couldn't. It would've been too much.

Demia, however, is a little ball of sunshine. She makes me smile every day.

I'm sitting on the floor beside her curb while she naps one day, flipping through a book on Extier history. Maybe there will be some answers on this creature.

A rustle at the door draws my attention. Freya stands there, surveying the room with a look of disgust.

"What are you doing?" I ask, tucking the book behind my back. I don't trust her.

She looks down at me, a spark of pity in her eyes. "It's not right keeping a great aunt from her niece! I hope you were planning on letting me see her sometime."

I scowl at her. "You're not welcome here."

"Well that's not any way to treat family," she chides with a pout. "But I guess I should thank you."

"Thank me?" I cross my arms. "What would you thank me for?"

"For ridding me of my brother." She smiles, stepping forward. "I'm sure you weren't expecting that. Still, it was nice to have that pesk gone without getting my hands dirty." She wiggles her fingers at me.

"What do you want, Freya? It's not to meet Demia. I'm not clueless."

"Ah so that's the pretty thing's name. And I really did come to meet her."

"Don't lie to me," I hiss. "You want something from me."

"So your worthless father did teach you a thing or two. I'm impressed." She crouches down to look at Demia. "And you're right, I did have an ulterior motive in coming." Turning her head, she fixed me with a sharp stare. "I want to know how you made it out of the middle of a battle with no bodies but the Scle King and Lecander."

I raise an eyebrow, tipping my head haughtily. "If you can't figure it out yourself then you don't deserve to know."

"So it was a Regalia," she presses. "Interesting. How did you get one of your own? Only true royals are chosen, and it can't be the King's. Regalia's die with their masters."

"You don't know what you're talking about."

She slams her hand against the rail of the crib. "I would give me what I want if I were you."

"And why is that?" I drawl.

"You see, you need my help—"

"I do not need your help," I argue, but she continues as if I hadn't said a thing.

"You've been in quite the state since the battle at Boistan and it's not fit for a mother or a Queen. So, I'd suggest you give me what I want," she says sharply.

I pull in a deep breath. "If you think you can just waltz in here and threaten me—"

"I never threatened," she laughs. "See, you can't even think properly. An intervention is necessary." Looking down at my sleeping daughter, she runs a finger along her cheek. "I think my great niece will enjoy living in the Aeryan palace, what about you?"

"You can't take her! She is my daughter and my heir!" I sneer, pushing to my feet. "You don't even know how to be a mother."

Her face whitens, and her jaw tightens. It's rare that Tierans struggle to have children, but Freya and Axar have been married for decades and have had no heir. I placed a low blow, but I will do anything to keep my baby.

She sniffs, her hands coming to rest on her stomach. "It's no matter, I will have an heir soon. However, the High King and Queen agree that you're not fit to motherhood in your condition. They have granted Demia to me as a ward until you are of sound mind and body. Try to fight me, and you'll find the whole world against you."

The world freezes. The High King gave her permission to take Demia. She's going to take Demia. I want to rush her and get her away from my baby, but my body ignores my commands. All I can do is watch as Freya scoops up my precious child and escapes through a door in the next second.

Muffled sobs rack my body, and I fall to the ground. Demetrius had one request, and I failed him. I failed Demia. I won't fail again. I know the punishment for failure.

And whatever it takes, I will get my daughter back.

Octavia will return in Folke.
Demetrius will return in Aeress.
Demia will return in Aeress.