📍 Chapter 72 – The Weight of a Crown Unborn
The air in the palace changed.
Not suddenly — but slowly, like a tide pulling back from the shore before a great wave.
People smiled less. Guards spoke in whispers. Even the stone walls seemed to hold their breath.
Zara watched it all from the eastern balcony, her hands pressed to her swollen belly. The child was active today — restless, as if sensing the danger swirling just beyond the gates.
Leva approached quietly.
"The northern watchtower reported movement last night. Four cloaked riders. They didn't cross the border, but they're close."
Zara didn't respond.
Her eyes were locked on the distant treetops.
"They're watching," she said softly. "Waiting."
"For what?"
Zara turned slowly.
"For me to die."
---
She spent the afternoon in the Hall of Light — once the Queen Mother's private sanctuary. No council meetings. No guards.
Just Zara… and one name she hadn't spoken aloud in months.
*"Malric."*
The name echoed in the quiet.
Malric — the man who should've been her enemy. The prince of a rival house. The one she once feared. The one who taught her to be brave. And the one who *disappeared* the night the Raven first struck.
They said he died during the riot. But his body was never found.
Zara closed her eyes and whispered,
"If you're alive… I need you now."
---
By evening, the pains started.
Not labor — not yet — but the slow grinding tension in her lower back and hips.
The healer confirmed it.
"You're early," she said. "A week, maybe less."
Zara looked at her belly.
So small… yet the cause of so much war.
So much blood.
She returned to her chamber and summoned Leva, Zaire, and Auren.
"I may not survive this birth," she said plainly.
Zaire flinched. "Don't say that—"
"I have to," Zara interrupted. "Because if I don't — and something happens — the Raven will take everything."
Leva leaned forward. "Then we'll lead."
Zara shook her head.
"No. *One* of you must raise the child. Not as a general. As a parent."
Silence.
Auren looked away.
Zaire stepped forward. "I'll do it."
Zara frowned. "You're a warrior, Zaire."
"I was your husband once," he said quietly. "Even if it was fake. And I still love you. This child is my legacy too — if you'll allow it."
Leva looked down, emotion tightening her jaw.
Zara reached across the table and took Zaire's hand.
"Then swear it," she said.
"I swear," he whispered. "If you fall… I will raise this child in your name. I will teach them everything you stood for."
Tears burned Zara's eyes, but she nodded.
---
That night, she couldn't sleep.
So she wandered.
Alone, cloak drawn tight, through the silent halls of her kingdom.
Her steps took her to the old west wing — the section abandoned after the fire.
Dust filled the air. Wind slipped through cracked windows.
And then she heard it.
A footstep.
Not hers.
She turned sharply.
And standing at the end of the hallway… was **Malric**.
Older. Scarred. Alive.
Zara staggered.
"You…"
He nodded, slowly.
"Surprised?"
Tears flooded her vision.
"I buried your sword."
"I buried my name."
Zara took a step closer. "Why did you disappear?"
Malric's face was heavy with guilt.
"I was captured by the Raven the night of the first revolt. They wanted me to spy. I refused. So they locked me away."
"And now you're here?"
"I escaped," he said. "Because I heard your name on their lips. And it wasn't in praise."
Zara stared at him.
"You should have come back sooner."
"I thought you were safe."
"I never was."
---
He stepped forward and reached out slowly.
She hesitated… then let him touch her hand.
"I'm not here to take your crown," Malric said. "I'm here to protect what you built."
Zara looked down at their joined hands.
"Then help me live long enough to meet my child."
Malric smiled faintly.
"And if you don't?"
She pulled her hand away.
"Then burn this kingdom down before you let the Raven raise them."
---
By morning, scouts reported something terrifying:
> The Raven's forces were moving south.
> Not in small numbers.
> Not hidden.
**An army.**
For the first time in weeks, they were no longer hiding in shadows.
They were coming **openly**.
Straight for the palace.
---
Zara stood on the steps of the outer gate, watching the dust rise in the far hills.
Behind her stood Leva. Zaire. Auren. Malric.
Her war-born family.
"I'll give birth in three days," Zara said softly. "Or less."
Zaire asked the question that none of them dared voice before:
"Will you give birth… before they reach us?"
Zara didn't answer.
She just stared at the horizon.
And whispered,
"Either I bring this child into peace…
…or into fire."