We'll Stay

Liora caught on instantly. She did not waste a single second. Stepping out into the cool night air of the corridor, she hailed the first two passing servants she saw. She delivered Kaelen's cover story with a breathless urgency that masked her calculated intent. She told them the master of the house had returned from the royal palace battered, bleeding, and unconscious, demanding they fetch Helena and the young widows from the other courtyards at once. As the servants scrambled into the darkness, Liora slipped back into the dimly lit bedroom.

Kaelen lay on his stomach, his breathing tight and shallow. The scent of copper and medicinal herbs hung heavy in the air. The tension in the room felt suffocating. He turned his head slightly to look at her against the glow of the flickering candlelight.

"When they arrive, I am giving them an order, and I am giving you the same one," Kaelen said, his voice carrying the authoritative weight of a battlefield commander. "You and my brothers' widows must pack whatever you can carry and return to your maiden families immediately. Tonight. Before the sun rises."

He wanted to minimize the body count. Right now, his single, unwavering priority was keeping as many innocent people out of the impending political ruin as possible.

Liora met his gaze and did not argue with his noble demand. Arguing took time they did not possess. She had not spent much time with the eight young women since her arrival, but she could tell they possessed genuine, kind spirits. Being widowed at such a young age was already a heartbreaking burden. Dragging them into an execution yard alongside a condemned family seemed like a profound injustice. As for herself, Liora harbored a quiet, stubborn hope. She carried knowledge from another era, a modern understanding of strategy and survival. Deep down, she believed her foresight might save him from dying young. She refused to run.

Footsteps soon echoed across the stone pathways outside. A chorus of frantic, hushed voices broke the midnight silence. Helena rushed through the doorway first. Her usual iron-clad composure vanished the moment her eyes locked onto Kaelen's bandaged back. Seeing the fresh blood seeping through the white linen, tears pooled in her eyes. She gripped the edge of the bed frame to steady herself.

"Kaelen? You are awake," Helena said, her voice cracking. "What happened to you? Are you alright?"

"Mother, I am fine. It is just a few cuts and bruises," Kaelen lied smoothly, though his voice strained with the physical effort.

Behind Helena, the eight young widows flooded into the room. They crowded around the bed, their faces pale and drawn. The genuine, frantic concern radiating from them filled the tight space.

"How did you sustain such injuries?" Mabel asked, her voice trembling as she stared at his ruined clothes.

Kaelen lifted a hand, asking for patience. "I will explain everything once everyone is inside."

No one pushed him for answers. They hovered near him, their attention focused on the brutal state of his wounds.

Liora read the room and knew they needed privacy for the truth. She thoughtfully stepped backward toward the threshold. "I will stand guard outside," she murmured. "I will make sure the servants keep their distance and no one else comes in to spy."

She pulled the heavy wooden door shut, putting her back to the hallway. Inside the room, Kaelen watched the door close. A flicker of newfound respect flashed in his dark eyes. He had expected his new bride to panic under the pressure. Instead, she secured their perimeter with a sharp, tactical mind.

Kaelen snapped himself out of his thoughts. He forced himself up onto his elbows, ignoring the sharp sting of his torn flesh. He looked at his mother, then at the women who had lost their husbands to the kingdom's endless wars.

"Listen closely," Kaelen began, his tone dropping into a grim register. "I went to the palace today. King Osric singled me out in the great hall. Without any just cause, he ordered the royal guards to give me fifty lashes."

Gasps filled the room. The young women were visibly shaken by the brutal news.

"Fifty lashes?" Vera choked out, stepping forward. "Why would the king do that to you?"

"What did you even do to provoke him? Fifty lashes is a death sentence for most men," Greta demanded, her hands balling into fists.

Kaelen let their alarm wash over him. Even a man as stoic as Kaelen felt a warmth bloom in his chest hearing their desperate concern. A family this close might never be the same after tonight. It pained him to say it, but he had to deliver the harshest, unvarnished truth.

"It was not about what I did," Kaelen continued. "After what happened in the hall tonight, it is clear the king will no longer tolerate the Vane family's existence. He wants us gone."

Silence slammed into the bedroom.

"His mind is made up," Kaelen stated flatly. "A royal decree is imminent. With any luck, we will merely be stripped of our land and exiled. But knowing Osric, this could easily end with our entire bloodline standing on the gallows by tomorrow afternoon."

He deliberately painted the worst possible picture, hoping these eight young women would realize the danger and flee.

The widows froze. Slowly, one by one, they snapped their attention toward the closed door where Liora stood guard on the other side. Earlier that day, Liora had tried to warn them. She had spoken of a dream, of soldiers breaking down the gates, of sudden ruin. They had dismissed her warnings as the anxious rambling of a nervous girl. Now, hearing Kaelen confirm the exact same doom, they realized her seemingly foolish predictions had been accurate all along.

Liora pushed the door open a fraction, meeting their searching gazes through the crack. She gave them a single, solemn nod. That was all the proof they needed.

Helena staggered back a step. She clutched her chest, her breathing ragged. A harsh, deeply hollow laugh tore from her throat. It held no warmth, only a bitter, suffocating despair.

"The Vane family has served the crown for generations," Helena said, her voice shaking with a potent mix of grief and unadulterated rage. "Our men bled into the mud for this kingdom. And this is how we are repaid? I begged your father to put down his sword. I pleaded with him to retire, to stay home where it was safe. I told him peace in our own halls was worth more than any military glory. But he refused to listen. He told me our sacred duty was to protect Aethelgard. He told me the kingdom needed us."

She wiped a stray tear from her cheek, her eyes burning with a fierce sorrow. "That blind belief cost me my husband. It cost me eight of my sons. Was it worth it? What a cruel joke."

The eight widows erupted into furious whispers.

"This is madness. What did the Vane family ever do to deserve this kind of betrayal?" Dinah spat out, her voice full of defiance.

"We cannot just sit here and take this," Mabel said, pacing the floorboards. "I am going back to my parents' estate right now. My father holds influence in the court. I will ask him to pull some strings for us."

"I will reach out to my brother as well," Cora added quickly. "Maybe he can find a political loophole or bribe the right officials to reverse this outcome."

"No." Kaelen shook his head, swiftly shutting the idea down. "None of you will do that. King Osric has already made his decision to wipe out the Vane family. His mind is set. Any interference from your maiden families will only drag them down onto the execution block beside us. You will not pull them into our grave."

"So what?" Dinah shot back. "We are supposed to just sit here and let them pin some made-up treason charge on us?"

Kaelen did not answer her directly. Instead, he turned his urgent gaze to Helena. "Mother, listen to me. Instead of letting them get dragged down with the Vane name, we must send them away. Send them back to their families now, before the royal guards surround this compound. Sever their ties to us permanently before it is too late."

Helena paused. She looked at the eight young women. They had buried their husbands. They had worn mourning clothes. They had given their youth to a house marked for slaughter.

"Kaelen is right," Helena said solemnly, her shoulders sagging under the immense weight of the truth. "You have all suffered more than enough. We cannot let you suffer further because of a paranoid king." She looked toward the doorway again. "And Liora... she literally just married into this chaos today. She is caught up in a treason plot on her wedding night. It is truly unfair to her. You must all pack your belongings and flee."

"No way am I leaving," Vera declared. Her voice did not waver. She stood tall, her chin raised in steady defiance. "I married a Vane. I was already a Vane. If I must die tomorrow, I will die as one."

"Same here," Greta snapped, stepping up beside Vera. "Even if the whole family gets executed, I am sticking with you till the very end."

"I am not going anywhere. I will stay and go down with the ship, no matter what."

"I promised my husband I would always take care of his mother for him, no matter what happens."

"I am not leaving either."

One after another, the widows fiercely and unanimously rejected the escape route. The option to flee lay wide open, yet they slammed it shut without a second thought. They aggressively swore to stand by the family to the bitter end, showcasing unflinching loyalty to the Vane name.

Overwhelmed by their unyielding devotion, Helena felt a massive swell of emotion tighten her chest. She turned her gaze to her newest daughter-in-law standing near the door, offering her the exact same out. "What about you, Liora?"

Without a single second of hesitation, Liora looked back and answered simply. "I am staying."

Helena turned to her son. "You see for yourself how loyal they are, every last one. I want to honor their wishes."

Kaelen stared at the women surrounding his bed, explicit warning in his tone. "Do not be fools. You only live once. If there is a chance to survive, who would willingly choose death? I hope stubborn, foolish pride is not making this decision for you."

"Kaelen, my mind is made up. Do not try to talk me out of it," Vera spoke up first, crossing her arms.

The rest quickly followed, each one refusing to be swayed. They would rather face the king's blades than abandon their home.

Helena watched her daughters-in-law with a profound clarity settling over her mind. On any normal day, these women might bicker endlessly over daily trifles and complain about trivial matters. But when the sky fell, and when it truly mattered, not a single one of them would ever back down.

That, she understood with a swelling heart, was exactly what it meant to be a Vane woman.