And so, Dorothea came to reside in the royal palace as King Volkhard’s third consort.
Of course, he could hardly announce her origins as she had relayed them. A convenient narrative was needed—one that claimed the king had been taken with a wandering songstress and, despite her being an orphan, he had chosen to take her as his consort.
“As expected, the queen consort is in a fit of distress. It’s become quite the nuisance. Matters would be somewhat less troublesome if we could announce that you are of noble blood,” Volkhard remarked.
“We cannot. Though I truly am sorry for upsetting Lady Irmela...”
Even after becoming a royal consort, Dorothea had shown no desire for the luxuries of court. Instead, she asked to live in the forest outside the capital. In response, Volkhard had ordered a tower be built there for her to reside in. She now sat on a windowsill within that tower, which was still under construction by court conjurers.
“It is better to turn our tale into a commonplace story,” she said. “If my location becomes known, then they’ll find our daughter far more easily.”
She reached down to rub her belly.
Dorothea had told him about how she’d been on the run for many years. Those who sought the reincarnation of Adelheid had been hunting her relentlessly, determined to capture her.
For that reason, she had hidden her magical power since childhood, living as an orphan. Even when another orphan had claimed to be her brother to get at the food she had earned through her singing, she had used that lie as an extra layer of protection to hide from her pursuers.
“It’s incredible how much time and effort you’ve put into fleeing.”
“Because I knew what would happen if I didn’t,” she said with a gentle laugh. “I’d done the calculations, you see.”
But Dorothea had never shared the details of those calculations.
“I’ve considered many different futures,” she said, eyes distant. “A world in which I publicly declare my identity and proclaim that my child shall bear Adelheid’s soul. Another, where I say nothing at all, and the truth is revealed only through the color of her eyes when she is born...”
Volkhard raised an eyebrow at that last bit of information.
“But I believe neither of those futures is the best path to take,” she continued, her hand lying on her still-flat belly. “The path with the greatest chance of success is a world where she is kept hidden even after she is born. I know if that man finds me, then he will find Adelheid as well. The only thing I can do is hide her until she’s strong enough to protect herself.”
To Volkhard’s ears, such a conclusion seemed premature at best.
“I fail to see the use in hiding,” he said, but he did not press any further, for he sensed her desperation, and he knew that Dorothea had imagined these scenarios in her head countless times.
Dorothea tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. “Before she is born, I shall cast a spell on you and the child.”
“What for?”
“To keep you from taking too much interest in her at first. That way, he won’t notice either.”
“That is absurd. Did you not seek me out precisely because you wanted a powerful conjurer to protect your daughter?”
“Yes...but only once she’s older. While she is still an infant—too young to control her magic—it’s safer for her to be forgotten than for her to stand out under your protection.”
He realized that in her calculations, the pursuers would defeat him and seize their daughter.
“I will cast a spell on Adelheid too—one that delays the return of her past-life memories.”
This woman...
As he watched her solemnly shift her gaze to her feet as she discussed their daughter’s future, a realization struck Volkhard.
She intends to die after our daughter is born.
He opened his mouth to speak—but he found no words. After all, what was the point? Dorothea lived for one purpose alone: to bring forth the reincarnation of Adelheid.
In any case, it was not his place to question it. This marriage was no more than a contract. Both parties had agreed upon it for mutual benefit.
“The trigger to dissolve the spell,” Dorothea continued, “will be the magic of the one who pursues her. The moment they interfere with the kingdom’s barrier, Adelheid will remember who she was.”
She gave him a gentle smile before adding, “And at the same time, Volkhard, you’ll remember too. All the memories that will have been tucked away in the corner of your mind will return. And that’s when you will bring her back to your side.”
As though placing the final seal on their pact, Dorothea told him one more thing.
“As for me...you’ll forget about me entirely.”
Volkhard clicked his tongue. “Do as you will. But first, choose a name.”
“A name?”
“Yes, for our daughter—in this lifetime.”
Dorothea’s eyes, gleaming like opals, widened.
“Her name...” she whispered.
“No fool would give her the name ‘Adelheid’ if we mean to keep her hidden.”
“But... I... Do I have the right to give her a name?” She looked to her feet again. “Even though I’m a terrible mother who will put this child through so much pain...”
Volkhard neither denied nor affirmed her words. “The only person who can judge that has yet to be born in this world.”
After a moment, Dorothea spoke hesitantly, almost as if she were afraid to even voice the name she’d chosen.
“Claudia.”
“Hmm...” Volkhard committed the name to memory.
“In my homeland, it means ‘something that is lacking.’”
“And why give her such a name?”
“As long as Claudia is not fully Adelheid, then she is like an apple with a bite taken out—not completely whole. And maybe an apple like that will be easier to hide than a perfectly shaped one...”