"What?" Caldur asked, his voice low, stunned, sure he had misheard. Surely, Oscar hadn't said what he thought he did.
Oscar looked at him with grim eyes and repeated himself, slower this time.
"The queen was taken. On her way back from the countryside. She was kidnapped."
The words struck Caldur like a hammer. His legs gave out beneath him and he stumbled backward, catching himself on the arm of a nearby chair before sinking into it. His chest tightened. He couldn't breathe. The room, though still and silent, felt like it was spinning.
Oscar stepped further into the chamber, closing the door behind him.
"Who told you this?" Caldur managed, voice low and raw.
"One of the guards who accompanied her."
"They were there? When it happened?"
Oscar nodded. "Yes, Your Majesty. According to him, they were ambushed. Armed men. They had guns. They damaged the carriages and threatened to kill the rest of her company unless the queen stepped out of her carriage."
Caldur's hands curled into fists, his knuckles pale. His stomach turned.
Oscar continued, his tone measured, but it couldn't hide the weight of his words.
"She gave the order. Told them to drop their weapons and walk away. She didn't want bloodshed. When the guards returned with backup from Ivandell, she was gone."
Caldur's eyes snapped up. "Ivandell?"
Oscar gave a small nod. "Yes. It happened near the borders."
Ivandell. His duchy. His father's lands.
Caldur rose slowly to his feet, the chair creaking behind him. A bitter taste filled his mouth.
"Guns?" he repeated. "How in God's name did they get guns?"
"I do not know, Your Majesty."
"This reeks of Norwyke," Caldur said, pacing now, his hands clasped tightly behind his back. "Does anyone else know?"
"Only you. We've not informed the prime minister yet."
"Don't. Not yet. Keep this quiet. We cannot afford panic."
"Yes, Your Majesty."
Caldur's mind raced. Every second felt like it slipped through his fingers like sand.
"I must write to my father. And I want you to go to Commander Francis. Tell him to send out the best hunters and guardsmen. I want the queen found before dawn."
Oscar bowed. "At once."
"Also, prepare letters. One each for the prime minister, the council, the dukes, and the commander. We must convene. This is not something that can be hidden for long."
Oscar turned and left in haste, his boots echoing down the corridor.
Caldur dressed swiftly, his formal coat heavy on his shoulders, though not as heavy as the dread in his chest. He stepped out into the hallway. Whispers clung to the air. The palace buzzed with murmurs. He caught fragments—"The queen..." "Taken..." "Who would dare..." The maids lowered their heads as he passed, but their eyes lingered, wide and frightened.
He made his way to the servants' quarters and spotted a guard standing near the doorway.
"Where is Sir Cedric?"
"He is not in the palace, sire."
Caldur frowned. "Then where?"
"He's on leave. The queen gave permission."
Sir Cedric. The only man the queen trusted wholly with her safety. He had protected her since she was a babe. She never traveled far without him.
"Then who went with her?"
The guard gave him a name and led him to where the man was.
Caldur found him with Commander Francis, who was already questioning the group. Francis turned as Caldur approached and bowed.
"Your Majesty."
"Leave me with him."
Francis stepped away without a word.
Caldur studied the guard. He looked unhurt. Not a scratch on his skin. His uniform, though dusty, was intact. Fury welled up in Caldur's chest, thick and burning.
"You were there?" His voice was cold, sharp.
The man nodded. "Yes, Your Majesty."
"And you stood by and watched while your queen was taken?"
"She gave a direct order," the guard said quickly, eyes wide. "She commanded us to stand down. We obeyed her."
Caldur stepped forward, the distance between them shrinking with every breath.
"You defy her order if it means saving her life. She is a woman of honor, of heart—of course she wouldn't let you die for her. But your duty is to protect her, no matter the cost. That is the oath you swore."
The guard dropped to his knees. His voice trembled as he bowed low, forehead to the stone floor.
"Forgive me, Your Majesty. I was only following orders."
Caldur looked down at him with contempt, his fists clenched at his sides. His heart beat loud in his ears, every pulse a reminder of the queen's absence.
He turned his head and saw Francis still nearby, standing in the shadows.
Caldur called him over.
"Take all of them," he said, voice like steel. "The guards, the maids, the ladies-in-waiting who were with her. Lock them in the dungeon. Every last one."
Francis didn't question it. He bowed, then turned to carry out the order.