CROWN OF FORBIDDEN HEARTS
Chapter 55: LADY VAELOR`S BACKSTORY

Chapter 55: 55: LADY VAELOR`S BACKSTORY

Lady Vaelor was not born into nobility. She was born in the small, crowded servant’s quarters of the palace, where the air smelled of old rags, hot stew, and the sweat of tired workers. Her mother, Elyria, was a palace servant who spent her days scrubbing floors and washing the fine silk robes of nobles who never even knew her name. Vaelor grew up watching her mother work until her fingers were raw, her back bent, and her eyes heavy with exhaustion.

As a little girl, Vaelor did not know what it meant to be rich. She only knew the roughness of servant clothes, the ache of an empty stomach, and the cold stone floors she slept on at night. But her mother had dreams for her. At night, when they lay on their small straw mattress, Elyria would whisper stories about the stars.

"One day," she would say, brushing Vaelor’s tangled hair back, "you will not bow to them. You will stand among them."

Vaelor held onto those words like they were magic. She believed them because she had nothing else to believe in. She did not want to spend her life scrubbing floors or being ignored like her mother. She wanted to be seen. She wanted to matter.

But the world was not kind to servant girls. At thirteen, she learned this the hard way. She had made a friend, a noble girl named Liana. Liana had golden hair, fine dresses, and a sweet laugh. She liked sneaking away from her lessons to sit with Vaelor in the palace gardens. They would share stolen pastries and whisper their dreams to each other. Liana promised that one day, when she left to study in another city, she would take Vaelor with her. "I will teach you to read," she had said. "I will tell them you are my companion, not just a servant."

Vaelor had believed her. She had dreamed of leaving the servant’s quarters behind, of wearing fine dresses and learning to write her own name on parchment. But when the time came for Liana to leave, everything changed.

"She’s just a servant’s child," Liana said to her governess when Vaelor came running to say goodbye. Her voice was careless, her eyes cold. She did not even look at Vaelor as she stepped into her carriage and disappeared.

That day, something inside Vaelor hardened. She learned that promises meant nothing. That kindness was weakness. That no one would help her unless she made them.

So she changed. She started paying attention. She learned how to move through the palace without being noticed, how to listen when people thought she wasn’t there. She watched the noble ladies in their silk dresses and perfect smiles, and she copied them. She trained herself to speak like them, to carry herself with grace. But unlike them, she never forgot what it was like to be small, to be powerless. She swore to never be that girl again.

By fifteen, she had found a way out. Lord Davrin, an old noble with a sharp eye and a deep purse, noticed her. He said she had the mind of a lady and took her under his wing. He gave her fine dresses, lessons in speech and etiquette, and a place at his side, so long as she remained useful to him. And Vaelor made sure she was.

She learned the secrets of the court, the way power worked. She saw how nobles traded favors like merchants traded gold. She saw how people were only loyal when it benefited them. And she became like them. If she had to betray someone to survive, she would. If she had to step over someone to rise higher, she would.

By twenty, she had done what no servant’s daughter had ever done before, she had made herself into a noblewoman. She had friends in high places, whispered secrets in the right ears, and secured herself a position of power. She was not cruel, but she was not kind either. She was simply... smart.

and then...she met Alaric.

In a random tavern that Lady Vaelor frequented, she had never seen Alaric before, it was his first Time there.

Alaric did not walk in like the other men. He did not stumble in drunkenly, nor did he swagger with false bravado. He moved like a shadow, a predator who did not need to bare his teeth to remind others of his danger. The moment he entered, the air shifted. People took notice. Not because he sought attention, but because he carried something more potent than any crown power.

Vaelor lifted her goblet to her lips, watching over the rim as he scanned the room, his sharp blue eyes cutting through the dim light. And then, just like that, he saw her. Their gazes locked. A flicker of something passed between them, something electric, something neither of them had expected.

He approached with the confidence of a man who had never been denied anything. He did not ask permission to sit. He simply did.

"You watch people," he said, his voice a low rumble, the kind that seemed to settle deep inside a person.

Vaelor arched a delicate brow, swirling her wine lazily. "I find them fascinating."

His lips curved, but it was not quite a smile. "Do you? Or do you simply enjoy knowing their weaknesses before they even realize they have them?"

She studied him, tilting her head just slightly. "And what is it that you think I see when I look at you?"

Alaric leaned forward, resting his forearms on the table, his fingers tapping against the wood in a slow, rhythmic pattern. "You see yourself?."

A slow, genuine smile stretched Vaelor’s lips. He was right. She did not need to play coy, did not need to lower her lashes or feign innocence. With him, she did not have to be anyone but herself.

For a moment, they simply sat there, studying one another, two predators recognizing a kindred spirit.

Then Alaric spoke again. "I have a proposition for you."

Vaelor chuckled softly, taking a sip of her wine. "Do you now? You wouldn’t be the first man to think he can buy my loyalty."

"I’m not offering you gold," he said, voice steady. "I’m offering you purpose."

She stilled, the amusement fading slightly from her eyes. "Go on."

Alaric leaned back, fingers brushing against the hilt of his dagger. "I need eyes in the palace. Close to the queen."

The name sent a sour taste through her mouth. Lysandra. The woman who had everything Vaelor had spent years clawing for. The crown. The power. And now, Alaric’s attention.

"You want me to play the devoted ally while feeding you information," she murmured, setting her goblet down. "And why should I?"

His gaze darkened, something unreadable flickering in his eyes. "Because I am hoping that you hate her?"

Vaelor let out a soft breath, her fingers tightening around the stem of her goblet. Hate was a strong word. But it was fitting.

Alaric continued, his voice like a slow-burning fire. "You don’t care for money. You’ve already taken what you want from the nobles. But power? The right alliances? I can give you something the court never will. A place at my side."

There it was. The unspoken truth between them. She had seen the hunger in his eyes, the same hunger that burned within her. He wanted more. So did she. And here he was, offering her a chance to seize it, to be something more than just another noblewoman playing courtly games.

A slow smile curled her lips. "You always get what you want, don’t you?"

Alaric smirked. "Always."

Vaelor leaned in, her voice dropping to a whisper. "Then you should know something about me. I do not betray those I am loyal to. If I do this, if I stand at your side, it is because I choose to. Not because I am bought, not because I am forced. But because I want to."

For the first time, his expression shifted, something almost unreadable passing through his gaze. He understood. Perhaps, for the first time in his life, he had found someone who did not kneel before him out of fear or greed. But out of something far more dangerous.

Loyalty.

"Then we have an understanding," he said, standing. "I will be in touch."

Vaelor watched him go, her heart steady, her mind already turning. She had made her choice.

Not for gold. Not for power.

But for him.

For the first time, she was loyal not because it benefited her, but because she wanted to be. She wanted Alaric to have everything he desired. And there was only one problem standing in his way: Queen Lysandra.

Vaelor hated her. Lysandra had everything Vaelor had fought for, power, a crown, and, worst of all, Alaric’s attention. She did not deserve it. She did not deserve him.

And so, Vaelor would do what she had always done. She would do what needed to be done. She would remove the obstacles in her path, just as she always had. If the queen had to be erased from the story for Vaelor to write her own happy ending...

So be it.