Author's Note: Hello everyone! Another chapter up because it's summer vacation from where I am from now! Woohoo! Stick 'til the end for some stuff I wanted to say. Anyway, enjoy this chapter! (I still DO NOT own Game of Thrones)

Long Live the Boy-King

Chapter Twenty-six: Mother of Mine

When I am sad, I dash off to the pond far from my house, a place that only my mother and I know about because it is hidden from the eyes of the city. I often bring my makeshift sword with me, the one that mother crafted so I could fight the monsters that roam in the dark. I never did find even a single one but I still keep it tucked inside my pocket just in case of an attack. There on the pond, I cry to the silent water and talk to my own reflection for hours on end. When I am wounded, I scoop some water with both my hands and relieve the pain on my limbs. When I am dirty, I bathe and swim around with the fishes and frogs. But sometimes, when there was nothing that the pond could provide me, I only pray.

Earlier today, I was helping Mother brew antidotes and potions used as medicine for the wounded soldiers from the war. I helped in picking the berries and gathering the leaves she needed. I also stirred the concoctions as they boiled. Making them requires meticulous efforts and appropriate time management. Some take two hours to complete. Sometimes one small bottle takes up a whole day. When I get bored in counting the bubbles that surface at the top of the liquids, I leave the house and play pretend with my sword.

But Mother wasn't like me. She was a very patient woman. She never complained at how warm the kitchen was getting from the multiple antidotes she was concocting. When she burns her finger, she makes an effort not to yell in pain because I get anxious about it. Instead, she smiles at me, puts her finger on her mouth, and mend the pain silently inside her room. Our neighbor, Lady Ophelia, is the meanest and loudest person I've ever known. That woman made mine and my mother's life a living hell by asking for more potions than we could ever make. But Mother, she only nods her head and never refuses the Lady's inquiry. My mother would work all throughout the night to make medicine only to be paid with less than half of what her work deserves. And until then, she never told me how hard life is. She always reminds me that life is beautiful and I should cherish it until I die.

"Why is Mother leaving me? All of this is my fault!" I shouted to the gods above, my eyes shut tightly to prevent the tears from coming. I never liked crying. Men don't cry, right? I don't want to be weak but my efforts were useless and a single tear rolled off my cheek followed by another and another until I couldn't stop them anymore. "If I didn't leave the house she would have been… she would have been…" I started to choke from the guilt. "This wouldn't be happening right now if only I stayed with her!"

The only thing I heard were screams when I neared the house followed by the sound of breaking glass. Lady Ophelia wasn't a kind Lady. The reason why she kept my mother working nonstop was because she was scared for her own marriage. Mother was the most beautiful woman in all of Bedoco and everyone wanted her to be their wife. But she always refuses, saying that her heart belonged only to my father, the one I've never even met. Lady Ophelia's husband grew fond of my mother's beauty and kindness. The Lady started speculating that maybe her husband was cheating on her with my mother. But I know for certain that he isn't because my mother isn't like that and the old Lord was kind to us and never took advantage. But now I know that the hearts of men, women, rather, are easily tainted with jealousy and envy which results to nothing but wrath.

"Run away! Run as fast as you can and never look back! I will come for you, my love. I promise." The sight of her bloody and almost lifeless made my blood run cold. There were no words that escaped from my mouth and I stood there, frozen, exposing my cowardice. With another plead for me to run, my feet found their way out of the house and to the place that only we know about.

"I am nothing but a coward. I should have been the one to die and not her. She's not coming back!"

Big but soft hands cupped my cheek and I felt a thumb wipe away the salty streaks on my face. I did not dare look at him, I can't. At least not yet when I am at my lowest point. "This is not your fault, my child," his deep voice penetrated my ears and only made me cry more.

"It is. Even if you say it isn't, it is," I protested, now openly sobbing in a very pathetic way.

"Open your eyes," he whispered. I took a deep breath and tried to calm myself down before I peeked through my lashes so that my blue eyes meet his. "Everything happens for a reason."

I pushed him away in frustration. "It's easy for you to say," I started with anger clear on my voice. "You are a god, you are immortal, and you have this world on the palm of your hands." He looked at me with a straight face but I know he was upset judging by the darkness that his eyes behold. "She was everything I have and now she's gone. I never knew my father and Mother worked very hard to fill in both roles just to raise me. You don't understand me. You don't understand what it feels like to have the only one you love be taken away from you by selfish people."

I was seething with anger and he knew it, too. He started standing up and I watched as he towered over me. His height was nothing like that of a human's but then again, he wasn't. "What do you want to do, my child?"

"I want revenge. I want everyone who killed my mother die. And I want Lady Ophelia to beg for my mercy."

"Oh, young child, you are nothing but impatient and foolish," he said with a mischievous smirk on his face. His expression made my blood boil. I could feel the heat burning inside my chest rise up even to my cheeks. "How do you suppose you get your revenge? With your stick for a sword and weak knees?"

"How dare you mock me?" I shouted on top of my lungs. This time, he was the one to get angry.

"Silence!" I felt the earth rattle below my feet, I almost lost my balance because of the power brought on merely by his voice. "You will get your revenge. When your son is brought into this world, you will be the one to craft his sword that will bring nothing but danger. He will strike down his enemy on the War of the Blue Moon and you will not be there to witness the glory he brings you and your name. And still, he will avenge the beauty and kindness and power of the one you love. And when he dies, along with his legacy, you will find peace up there with me."

"You are making a fool out of me!" I yelled at him after he finished stating that ridiculous message of his. "I want to avenge her now. I want to kill Lady Ophelia now!"

"All in good time, Minton. All in good time."

Edvige's Point of View

The waves of the sea lapped against each other making soft noises as the dawn breaks. The salty taste of the air lingered on my tongue and if I stuck it out more, I might shiver from the flavor. Though the wind feel like the gods' salty tears, it was still cold judging by the goosebumps forming on my skin. It was also sharp for it pierces the insides of my nose whenever I take a breath. On the balcony where I stood, a yellow canary with a piece of thin twig between its beaks landed in front of me. I stared at the bird and it stared back, turning its head to the side as if observing me, studying and predicting my next move. I only stood there with a blank expression on my face and only moved when the little bird flapped its wings and flew back to where it nests. It must have been a mother taking care of her young chicks, building up a warmer nest for the cold nights. I wonder where she came from. Does she live on the gardens' trees? Was she looking for pieces of dried up straws ever since the night? Did she have to scrape various dirt just to find food? I guess I will never find out.

But it never ceases to amaze me how a mother could give so much to her child without expecting anything in return. From the day her child is conceived, to the struggles she had to overcome for many months of her pregnancy, to the challenges she had to face for the early years, until the day she is certain that her child is safe and sound. It is a job without pay yet a child's smile and satisfaction is enough to let herself know that she is doing great, that she is being a good mother.

There are times, however, when a mother loses her temper. There are times when a mother doesn't understand her child. There are times that no matter how much she works hard, no matter how much sacrifice she gives, no matter how much knowledge she teaches, a child still doesn't listen. There are times like this – salty as the sea, cold as the wind, and gray as the sky.

The sun started peeking through the horizon. Its early glow painted the sky and clouds in splashes of amber. Back in Bedoco, the whole city would rejoice at a majestic sight like this. People, old and young, would rise from their slumbers just to see the earth's wake. I would smile at the beauty that Mother Nature is presenting me. But I couldn't. Not when half of my firstborn's soul plays tag with death.

I turned away from the balcony and reentered the dark room where Corabella rests. With slow footsteps, I made my way to the wooden chair beside her bed and sat at it again, letting my worries weigh me down. My eyes started tearing up for what felt like the hundredth time when I saw her face. She looks like a breathing corpse of a goddess. Yes, she is still beautiful with her dark hair, long lashes, and full lips. But her skin was cold as ice and even paler than the first snow that lands on the start of winter. Her lips started turning into light shades of blue yet she was still breathing.

She passed out three days ago just after her duel with the Rosby boy. It was Cosimo who noticed the blood starting to pool around her head. The healers said it was from the impact brought by her fall. They stitched up the wound but she still isn't waking up. Every day, my faith slips and slides, threatening me to just give up hoping that my daughter would turn out alive and healthy. I wasn't speaking to anyone, not even my husband. My days and nights are spent here on her quarters. I will search for any sign from her that will assure me that she is okay. Her breaths are still shallow and there were times when she eventually stops. I will cry out for help and my thanks go to the gods when the healers revive her. Still, she lays there unconscious and oblivious from the past three days' events.

Shortly after the duel, we rushed Corabella to the castles to heal her. The Rosby boy was there, too, but Gino punched him hard on the face and yelled for him to stay away from his sister. So he did. Two hours after that, Lady Margaery arrived along with her brother and some soldiers. I was heartbroken when I found out that the people who witnessed the duel welcomed her in a clamorous and joyous way as if a tragedy did not just happen. The next day, the wedding and the King's birthday was held in the Great Hall. Everyone attended except me and the twins. I urged Ferardo not to go but Lord Tywin insisted. The latter sent his condolences but that only made me feel worse.

On the third night, the Rosby boy visited just after dinner. In his hand, he held a bouquet of carnations and a piece of pastry on a plate. When he came in, he didn't do or say anything. He just stood at the doorway like a lost child waiting for help to arrive. I only glanced at him with sorrow in my eyes and a hint of resentment for what he did to my daughter. Then, I continued looking forlornly to my daughter deep in slumber.

A few silent seconds passed when he eventually gathered up the strength to utter a few words. "It was brought to my attention that you haven't eaten yet, my Lady, so I brought you a cake from the kitchens. This was the only thing decent left," he said softly but I could hear his voice tremble underneath the faux confidence. "I also haven't visited her yet as your sons kept me out so I'm taking this opportunity now that they aren't around."

"Do you have siblings, boy?" I asked him silently. "A sister perhaps?"

He was taken aback by my question and stood there deliberating if he would answer or not. At first he stuttered, almost hesitating to give his reply. "Y-yes, my Lady. Three older brothers. No sisters."

"And your mother, is she still alive and well?"

"Yes, my Lady."

"Good for her," I said sarcastically. "I wonder, though, if she sleeps peacefully at night knowing that her son almost killed a strong yet innocent young Lady." I heard him gulp down what seemed like a big lump on his throat. "I can't get much sleep, you know. Not even a wink. I kept worrying about my Corabella. When I close my eyes all I could see is her face, laughing and alive. Then the images behind my lids gradually become grotesque that I find myself startling myself awake. I am afraid that if I somehow fall asleep, I wouldn't notice how she wakes up from her deep sleep. It terrifies me that if I don't keep an eye at her, I wouldn't keep track of how many breaths she takes. What if she stops breathing entirely, at all? I wouldn't forgive myself if that ever happened." Hot tears started welling up in my eyes but I forced them back in. If I kept crying, kept giving up, then I am not a good mother at all. "I wonder if you sleep at all."

In my periphery, I saw the tall young Lord walk over to the table near the window. I heard the rustling of leaves and petals as he started changing the flowers on Corabella's vase. She awfully loved carnations. After that, I heard an almost-silent clink of a plate against the wood as he put down the cake. "I'm sorry, my Lady. But she will wake up, I am certain of it. She is a strong Lady and she will fight death as long as she could."

I almost chuckled at his naivety. "You don't know my daughter, Rosby, so I suggest you keep your opinions to yourself," I retorted. Yes, I want to believe that my daughter will be fine, that she will return to this world, but the assurance coming from the one who did this to her felt somehow taunting to me, like a bad joke of sorts. "If you didn't play hero, she wouldn't have been lying her like a corpse."

Rosby stood on the other side of the bed, across from me. This time, I looked at him straight in the eye. I was full of rage now. "Maybe I shouldn't have, my Lady. Maybe I should have held my ground and let Massey have her as his wife," he started. His face held a stony expression but his eyes shouted passion – a very dangerous thing. "But I couldn't just stand there and watch someone as idiotic as Massey take away someone strong and passionate like her."

"We would have made some kind of compromise."

"Would you?" he countered in an instant which made my eyes grow wide. "You don't listen to her, my Lady. She doesn't want to marry, yet you send ten different Highborn men on an arena to fight for a hand that doesn't want to be taken."

"How dare you accuse me of such things when you do not know an inkling of what you are talking about?" I spat in frustration. I wanted to slap him right there and then but I don't know if I have the strength to even do something so rash. My energy is all drained I am tired and I haven't slept.

"I love your daughter, my Lady. And I don't expect you to believe anything I say in an instant but I promise you this, I say nothing but the truth." He bowed his head down to look longingly at Corabella then back at me. "Even if I die a thousand times, I will be reborn to a thousand more and, still, I will fight for her even if she doesn't want me to." I felt something prick on my chest, like little pins attacked my heart the second those words left his mouth. "There is nothing I could do to bring her back right now, my Lady, but please, do me and your family a favor and not kill yourself. Even Corabella doesn't want that to happen."

Then, he turned on his heel without so much of a goodbye and exited. His foosteps grew fainter as I heard him walk in the distance. With careful gestures, I shifted on my seat so I could see the thing he brought me and sure enough there was a piece of chocolate and strawberry cake sitting on the table, the flavor that Corabella likes. Maybe he does know my daughter after all.

Author's Note: Hello, everyone! Thanks for reading that chapter. I actually like writing this one because I feel like I am revealing to you more about Edvige's personality and her relationship with Corabella. And yes, my recent chapters have been short because writing longer chapters requires more time and I feel like it's kind of tiring for you guys to read an obnoxiously long chapter. Anyway, I'm actually looking for editors around wattpad and ffnet to do some book covers for my work. You can send me a private message if you're interested to submit. I'm also accepting fanart, song recommendations, or anything fan made that is related to my works. Send me PMs for that as well. All those people who are going to submit will be credited and chapters will be dedicated to them. Thank you!

Qs:

- How do you feel about a brief look on Minton's life?

- How do you feel about Edvige and Lorcan's exchange?

- What would you like to happen next?