Alva? My eldest daughter? No. I never married her mother, which meant neither she nor her sister could claim the throne. They were illegitimate, bastards. If I named Alva as my heir, the people and the nobles would revolt, and I couldn't put my daughters in danger of being killed by an angry mob.

Bergil? My trusted friend, my noble knight and the one I've consulted more than once on this or that matter of diplomacy or Kaldwind's needs?

– Bergil," I said quietly.

– What?" he said.

– Bergil will be my heir," I said firmly.

– Over my cold corpse! – Bergil coughed, choking on his wine.

– That peasant? The king? Oh, that's funny! – Vit laughed.

– I've made my choice. When I die, you will be king and protector of Kaldwind," I said in an unapologetic tone and turned to my friend. – You will be a great king, my friend.

– No way! I am not ready to take on such a responsibility! You're crazy, Derek!

– When King Juris gave me the crown, I wasn't willing or ready to take on the responsibility of an entire kingdom, either," I grinned. – But you yourself told me more than once that I was a worthy and wise king.

– I have, I have not… I refuse! You will not make me…

Suddenly the door of the chambers opened wide, and a panting warrior dressed in heavy ceremonial armor stood before us.

– Your Majesty… Your daughter! Your eldest daughter! Alva, my King… Your daughter…" he breathed out, leaning against the wall.

The blood in my veins froze with horror.

My daughter! My Alva!

– What? What's wrong with her? – I jumped at the messenger.

– She… My lord… You must go! – I heard in reply.

Realizing the poor man was not himself, I asked only one question:

– Where is she?

– In the nursery, my lord. With your mother and–

But I didn't listen and ran out of the chambers in silence. But before I reached the stairs, I was so out of breath and tired that I collapsed on my knees. My body had betrayed me once again, and now I couldn't even get to the nursery to save my daughter. I knew: something terrible had happened! Perhaps she had hurt herself badly, or a burning spark from the fireplace had gotten on her dress and it had caught fire and left Alva with terrible burns… Anything! "You must go!" the messenger said, and they were terrible words, prophesying tragedy.

– Come, Derek! Come on! – I heard Bergil's voice beside me.

He lifted me up, put my arm around his neck, and dragged me down the stairs to the floor where the nursery was.

– God, what's the matter with me-I feel like a cripple! – Bergil, my faithful friend… What would I do without you! Alva… My Alva!

– I'm sure it's not so bad. Don't worry, Your Majesty! Children are like that… They climb everywhere, pick up all sorts of dangerous objects… Maybe she fell and broke her head? – He answered cheerfully, dragging me as easily as if I were a blind kitten.

– I hope nothing terrible happened! – I moaned softly.

– Hey, what are you looking at! Go away, you lazybones! You're useless! – Bergil bellowed irritably, and only then did I realize that as we descended the stairs, the courtiers on our way down were staring at me in amazement, and some of them were even crossing themselves. And I understood why.

– Is His Majesty ill? – One of the young ladies of the court, who, I confess, had once been in my bed, asked puzzled.

– Go about your business, woman! – Bergil snapped back at her.

– Rude! – The lady shouted after us, but my friend did not think it necessary to answer her, though I could see from his face that he could hardly restrain himself from hurling a sharp swear at the insolent maiden.

Usually I laughed at Bergil's misogyny and never missed an opportunity to poke him with jokes, but this time my head was filled with thoughts of my daughter and speculation about the harm that had been done to her. Andrada must heal her. She possesses inhuman wisdom and has a unique talent for concocting potions that not only cure and heal wounds, but also bring the dying back to life. Yes, those potions didn't work for me, but that was due to the poison that was killing me and which can only be defeated by an extremely complex antidote.

– Andrada will help her… She knows everything, she can do everything…" I said to myself.

– Yes, yes. You know how I feel about women and their foolishness, but I respect Andrada," Bergil said. – But you'd better be quiet, Your Majesty, save your strength!

When we got to the right floor and walked down the corridor towards the nursery, we were met by loud screams and sobs. Something terrible had happened in the nursery, and I wished I could be there as soon as possible to hug my daughters and protect them from everything.

Could it have been Hund? Had she returned to the palace and tried to kill my family? Taken advantage of my weakness?

"No, it's not her. I don't sense any dark magic here. There's something else here! There's weeping!" – Vit answered my thoughts.

– Alva! My girl! No, no! It can't be! – suddenly a loud cry from my mother pierced the corridor, followed by a loud shriek from Willa.

– Oh, my God! Alva! Save and keep her! – followed by Hedda's nervous, terrified cry.

– Quickly, Bergil! Hurry! – I moaned, filled with the horror of ignorance.

– Run as fast as I can! We're almost there! – Bergil answered me.

When we finally burst through the open door of the nursery, we saw my mother, Willa, Hedda, and Alva.

My mother was sitting on the floor, cradling Alva in her arms. My daughter's head rested on my grandmother's shoulder, and her face, turned toward the door, was whiter than snow. A white liquid mixed with blood was streaming from Alva's mouth. My girl's hands lay lifelessly along her body.

– No… No!" I screamed in pain and despair.

– My king… I don't know what's happening! But something terrible! – Hedda said to me, stammering. She held Vilja in her arms and cradled her head against her chest, preventing her from looking at her sister.

– Run after Andrada! Now! – I shouted to Bergil, freeing myself from his tight grip and running up to Alva. – Only she can heal her! Run, Bergil! Run as fast as you have never run before!

– Right away! – threw my friend and ran out the door.

POV Sylvia

We were literally pushed out of the house. I couldn't figure out what was going on or who the mages were, but I knew one thing for sure: they had some kind of power in their hands that they were happy to use.

Evans was a mystery to me as well. We wouldn't be put in magical chains for no reason-it was only for those who were guilty of crimes-but even if my friend had done something wrong in the past, I couldn't understand why I had been captured along with him.

Was it possible that I had been taken prisoner simply because I knew Evans? But then how powerful must the authority of the one who gave the order be? For this disguised wizard's shenanigans to go unpunished, he had to be close to the King of Emmerlend.

The only thing that wasn't hard to guess was that the lanky, purple-haired mage was no ordinary guard: the long hair, the jewelry, the dress… Everything indicated that he was a member of a noble family, but at the moment I was less interested in his origins.

Maybe he thought I was Evans's accomplice. And that's why they'd captured us both? But if so, what had this mysterious court healer done?

We approached a tall, noble, majestic stag with huge emerald-colored antlers. I had only ever seen these beautiful animals in books before. I loved to look at the pages with their colorful pictures, but the pictures were only a pitiful semblance of them: the Emmerlend deer were much more beautiful, more gentle, more proud. The sight of them was breathtaking.