The letter was waiting for Queen Lysandra when she entered her chambers, a splash of white parchment against the dark oak of her writing desk. She didn’t hurry toward it; instead, she allowed her ladies-in-waiting to spend ten minutes fussing over her skirts before dismissing them with a tired wave. Finally alone, she sat down, the velvet cushions of the chair offering a comfort that felt more like a restraint.

She picked up the heavy vellum, feeling the grit of the road on the wax seal. The paper was cold from the drafty room it had been in, its thin, fragile surface contrasting with the weight of the moment. As she looked at it, she held it with indifference, thinking it would have been better if he hadn’t written at all. While feeling the crisp and sharp edges, she cracked the royal gold wax seal, which was stubborn and hard, and opened the letter slowly and carefully as she crossed her legs.

The ink was dark and bold, the letters tall and sharp. She smirked and remarked, "He may be a bastard of a husband, but I can’t deny that his handwriting is always neat."

My dear wife,

The mountains are as grey and unyielding as the men who guard them. I find myself writing this letter not for any important reason, but simply to check up on you. Now that I am away for this peace treaty, I may not be back for some time, and I am starving to see your charming and intoxicating face. It has been a month since I left, and the women here do not capture my attention as you do. Hopefully, this letter reaches you well.

She couldn’t help but smile and wondered why he was being sweet all of a sudden. Then she paused, her expression straightening as she said, "Liar," while continuing to read.

I know that my two future restorers are thriving because they get to feast on the beautiful bosoms you carry. I admit I am quite jealous, but do not be dismayed—when I return, there won’t be more left for them. Do not worry, my wife; you aren’t going anywhere because even you wouldn’t leave if I didn’t want you to.

Until I return to your side,

Calix.

She held the letter, unable to believe what she had just read. "If this is the same man I married," she thought, "what in heaven’s name did I just read? When did he become so soft? Or was he always like this? Didn’t I notice it right away?"

Suddenly, the doors burst open. It was the nurse, Calista, rushing toward Lysandra, panic and fear evident on her face. "Your Highness," she stammered, "the twins... they... they..."

Lysandra’s heart raced as she asked, "What is wrong, Calista?"

"They’re not breathing," Calista replied, her voice trembling.

"What do you mean by that?" Lysandra exclaimed, her anxiety escalating. The atmosphere in the palace shifted dramatically; a heavy breeze swept through, bringing darkness with it. Lysandra couldn’t process the devastating news. Grabbing Calista and shaking her, she demanded, "What do you mean they are not breathing?"

Calista groaned in pain as Lysandra’s nails dug into her skin. "Your Highness, you’re hurting me!"

Without another word, Lysandra dashed out of the room, crying, "My babies! My babies!" She sprinted through the palace halls, reaching the nursery door. She flung it open fiercely, the wind whipping around her and causing the curtains to billow.

As she entered, she saw the twins lying on the bed, both naked and with their eyes closed. She picked up the boy first but felt how cold his body was; he was nearly frozen. "No, no, my babies! What happened?" she cried, dropping him to quickly grasp the girl instead. She was warm, but Lysandra was overwhelmed by despair.

As she wept, tearing her clothes in her anguish, the second nurse entered the room. She stood beside Lysandra in silence.

"How did this happen? What happened to my babies? Tell me now!" Lysandra demanded, turning to the nurse, but she received no reply.

Lysandra rose, her fury building as she said, "I am asking you a question! What happened to my babies? What have you done to them? I will have you killed!"

The nurse remained silent.

Overcome with grief, Lysandra collapsed onto the floor, pulling her hair in despair. "I thought these kids would bring hope to my forsaken marriage. I believed they would give me a reason to live. These past nine months, I have relished being a mother, and Calix...Calix has grown closer and softer toward me. But now they’re gone! What is the use of my life and this marriage?"

"Do you want to save your children?" a sharp yet calm voice interrupted.

Lysandra looked up, bewildered. "What did you say?"

The nurse repeated impassively, "Do you want to save your children?"

"Yes! Yes!" Lysandra replied eagerly. "How do I save them?"

"A sorcerer will," the nurse stated.

Lysandra’s expression shifted to shock and disapproval. "A sorcerer? No, we cannot."

The nurse replied, "Then we can’t save your children. They are dead now; we can only wait for the king’s return."

As the nurse turned to leave, Lysandra pondered, "If the king finds out about this, I do not know how he would react. I can’t take any chances." A thought sparked within her, and she called out, "Wait! I’ll do it. Let’s go to the sorcerer. Save my babies."

The nurse smirked and said, "Of course, my queen."

It was a very windy night, and the gusts made the leather curtain rattle. Lysandra was in the horse litter, holding her baby girl, who was wrapped in cloth, while the nurse cradled the baby boy, swaddled in several layers of fabric.

Lysandra looked at the nurse and asked, "Are we there yet?" The nurse replied, "Almost there, Your Highness. Just a little farther." Lysandra gazed at the baby girl and reassured her, "Don’t worry, my dear; everything will be fine." She then placed her hand on the baby boy’s face, exclaiming, "Oh dear heavens, his body is so cold! When are we arriving?"

The nurse responded, "Alright, we are here already." The nurse climbed down with the baby, and a guard opened the door for Lysandra. As she stepped down while holding the baby, Lysandra looked around and saw nothing but forest trees. She turned to the nurse and asked, "What is this place? Is this a trap?" The nurse smiled and said, "Of course not, Your Highness."

She then whistled, and like glowing sparkles, a hut began to appear. Lysandra’s eyes widened in disbelief. The nurse walked ahead, turned back to Lysandra, and said, "Let’s go." Lysandra followed the nurse to the door, where the nurse knocked in a special, intricate way. Her eyes glowed, and the door opened. The nurse entered and turned to Lysandra, saying, "Be careful and walk in." Lysandra nodded, both obedient and fearful.

The door closed behind them, revealing a cozy and warm interior. A tall man with a long grey beard, dressed in a blue cloak, emerged from another room and said, "Miris, what do you want from me?" Miris smiled and replied, "Sorcerer, I have come with my queen." The man looked at Lysandra, who was still scared and tried to put on a forced smile.

Miris continued, "As you can see, these children are dead." Lysandra, impatient, said, "Yes, yes, but you can help us, right?" The sorcerer regarded the children and said, "Let me see them. Bring them into the room." They followed him, and he pointed toward a bed, instructing, "Place the children on the bed and remove the cloth." The nurse complied.

The man touched the foreheads of the children with his eyes closed. "Your kids are weak; their spirits and souls are fragile. They will not be able to survive because they can be easily defeated." Lysandra pleaded, "Then save them!" Miris said, "Calm down, Your Highness." She turned to the man and asked, "Is there a way? Please tell us."

The man replied, "I will have to ask the moon spirit for assistance." Two large bowls were brought in, filled with water, and the children were placed in separate bowls. The man turned to the two women and instructed, "Please step back a bit." Lysandra glanced at Miris, who nodded, prompting Lysandra to move back.

The man raised his hands over each bowl of water and began whispering incantations. Suddenly, the candle lights went out, and the wind blew even stronger. The waters turned blue and illuminated the room. Then, the roof of the hut uprooted, and moonlight flooded in. Lysandra shivered and grasped Miris’s arm. The moon shone its light upon the children, and a voice echoed, neither male nor female, but powerful, as if carried by the wind:

"A covenant has been made; I have given your children life again, and now their generation shall be marked by my initials. Whoever shares their blood is under my protection. They shall be greater and more powerful than every human and ordinary wolf, unless they choose to sever this bond."

As the wind ceased and the moonlight faded, everything returned to normal. Lysandra and Miris exchanged glances, and then the babies began to cry. The man looked at them and smiled, saying, "You can now take your children with you." Lysandra rushed to them, beaming with happiness as she picked up the babies.