Forbidden Desires: Conquering Kingdoms And Women In a Fantasy World!-Chapter 31: The Queen’s Request and Isabella’s Reluctance

"What is this?" Olivia’s voice had a note of genuine bewilderment as she stared at the structure before them, her trained knight’s eyes taking in every detail with growing amazement.

The house stood like something from a fever dream in the midst of the modest village dwellings that seemed to mock the humble cottages surrounding it.

It reminded her of Lord Aldan’s estate in its grandeur, yet there was something distinctly different about it—something more personal, more intimate in its design. Where Aldan’s mansion spoke of inherited privilege and generational wealth, this house whispered of careful planning and individual vision.

I could practically see the gears turning in her head as she tried to reconcile what she was seeing with what she knew about our simple village life. The truth was, I had built it myself—every stone laid with my own hands. But explaining that to a royal guard who barely believed a village boy could rescue a princess? That conversation could wait.

"Come in," I said, moving toward the front door. My fingers found the brass handle—another detail that would probably raise questions—and pushed the heavy oak door open.

Mom wasn’t here, which meant she was likely holed up in her laboratory hut again, probably bent over some new experiment or potion that had captured her attention.

As for Rosaluna, she was still with Isadora.

"Take a seat, I’ll be right back," I told Olivia, gesturing toward the sitting area where comfortable chairs were arranged around a low table.

I left her there, taking in her surroundings with those sharp knight’s eyes, while I went to fetch Isabella.

How exactly was I supposed to explain this situation? How do you tell your overprotective mother that the Queen of Briaran wants to borrow her son for what could be a dangerous mission?

Because if there was one thing I knew with absolute certainty about Isabella, it was that she was fiercely protective of both Rosaluna and me. If she had her way, we’d never leave the village boundaries—never venture beyond the safety of familiar streets and known faces. We’d live our entire lives within these walls, safe and small and completely isolated from the world beyond.

The problem was, I still didn’t fully understand what had made her so afraid. What shadows from her past made her flinch at the thought of us leaving? What dangers did she see that I couldn’t?

But regardless of her fears, I’d always known this conversation would come eventually. The discussion about leaving the village, about expanding our horizons, about stepping into the wider world—it was inevitable. I’d just assumed we’d have more time, that it would happen on our terms, in our own time.

Instead, here we were, forced into it by circumstances beyond our control.

Maybe this was actually better, I thought as I approached her workshop. Maybe this external pressure would help her see that keeping us sheltered forever wasn’t really protecting us—it was just delaying the inevitable.

"Harold? What is it?" Isabella’s voice came from inside the small building, distracted and slightly impatient. Through the open doorway, I could see her bent over her workbench, surrounded by the organized chaos of her research. Glass vials caught the light, their contents ranging from clear liquids to substances that seemed to glow with their own inner fire.

"We have a guest, Mom," I said, stepping into the doorway but not entering fully.

"A guest?" She looked up then.

It occurred to me that she’d been so absorbed in her work that she might not even know about the Queen’s arrival in the village. News traveled fast in a place this size, but Isabella had a remarkable ability to tune out the world when she was focused on her experiments.

"Yes, come on," I said, letting the seriousness in my voice convey the importance of the situation.

She must have heard something in my tone because she immediately began cleaning her hands. "Give me just a moment," she said, removing her leather apron and hanging it on its designated peg.

We walked back to the house together, and I could feel tension radiating from her with each step. Isabella was intuitive—she could sense when something significant was about to happen, even if she didn’t know the specifics yet.

When we entered the living room, I found Olivia exactly where I’d left her, though now she was standing near one of the windows, examining the stonework around its frame. Her head turned as we approached, and I watched her take in Isabella’s appearance with the same analytical gaze she’d used on the house itself.

"Good morning," Isabella greeted a bit surprised as she caught sight of Olivia’s armor.

The knight’s gear was definitely high-quality—not the sort of equipment worn by village guards or even regular soldiers. The steel plates were expertly crafted and bore the subtle engravings that marked them as belonging to someone of significant rank. The sword at her side was equally impressive, its pommel decorated with jewels that caught the light.

Isabella was clearly trying to puzzle out who this visitor was and what she was doing in our home. 𝒻𝑟𝘦𝘦𝘸ℯ𝒷𝑛𝘰𝓋ℯ𝘭.𝘤𝘰𝘮

"You must be his mother," Olivia said, straightening to her full height. "Greetings. I am Olivia, a member of Queen Emma’s personal guard."

"Q—Queen?" Isabella’s voice came out as barely more than a whisper, her eyes widening with shock.

"Yes, Queen Emma of Briaran," Olivia confirmed.

Isabella’s gaze darted to me, a mixture of confusion and dawning understanding flickering across her features.

"First of all," Olivia continued, her entire bearing shifting into something more formal, "I would like to thank you. Your son has saved our Princess."

With that, she executed a perfect bow—not the shallow nod of polite acknowledgment, but a deep, respectful gesture that spoke of genuine gratitude.

I felt a surge of surprise at seeing this side of Olivia.

"Oh... no, it’s fine," Isabella replied, a bit awkward as she clearly struggled with the situation.

"It might be difficult to hear," Olivia said, her tone becoming more serious, "but the Queen has sent me to speak with you specifically."

"Speak to me? About what?" Isabella asked a bit warily.

"Yes. Your son actually saw the leader of the group of kidnappers who abducted our Princess. The man escaped, but Harold can identify him." Olivia paused, letting this information settle before delivering the request. "Therefore, the Queen would like Harold to accompany us to the Royal Capital to help locate this criminal so he can be apprehended and properly punished."

The silence that followed was deafening.

"W...What?!" Isabella’s voice exploded right after. The color drained from her face as the implications of the request hit her full force.

"Mom..." I tried to interject, hoping to calm the situation before it escalated further.

"No! Y—You can’t!" The words came out as something between a shout and a plea, her eyes wide with what looked like barely contained panic. She turned that desperate gaze on me, as if I could somehow make this entire situation disappear.

"Please, listen," Olivia said. "No harm will come to your son. I can guarantee his safety—"

"No," Isabella interrupted, her stance rigid. "I...I regret that I cannot accept that. My son is too young for such things." Her voice took on a slightly desperate quality as she searched for alternatives. "What about Lisa? She’s strong and reliable for her age. She would definitely be able to help you."

"Mom, Lisa has to take care of Riley and Zoey," I pointed out, though I kept my voice gentle. Lisa had her hands full with her new house companions—there was no way she could leave the village for an extended period with a village chief like Aldan capable of driving them out in secret.

"Harold! What are you even arguing about this for?!" Isabella’s voice rose again, and I could see her hands beginning to tremble. The reaction was so intense, so disproportionate to the situation, that even Olivia looked taken aback.

I’d seen my mother worried before, seen her protective instincts flare up when she thought Rosaluna or I were in danger. But this was different. This was raw terror, the kind of fear that went bone-deep and spoke of trauma I didn’t fully understand.

"Please wait outside," I said to Olivia, recognizing that we needed privacy for what was coming next.

Olivia nodded with professional understanding and stepped out onto the front porch, closing the door behind her with a soft click.

I guided Isabella to one of the chairs around our dining table, pulling another chair close so I could sit facing her. Her hands were shaking as I took them in mine, her skin cold despite the warmth of the day.

"Mom, I need to help them," I said.

"Y—You don’t need to do that, Harold! What are you thinking?" Isabella shook her head frantically.

"I’m thinking about the village," I said carefully. "I’m thinking about us."

"W—What?"

I took a deep breath, knowing that what I was about to say would only increase her fear, but also knowing that she needed to understand the full scope of what we were facing.

"That man, Arlos—the kidnapper’s leader. He saw my face, Mom. He also saw Lisa’s." I watched her expression grow even more pale as the implications began to sink in. "He might already know that we live here. It might be a week from now, it might be longer, but he will definitely come back to settle the score for what we cost him."

Isabella’s face went white as parchment.

"And it won’t just be me and Lisa he comes after," I continued. "He might come with reinforcements. He might decide to take his anger out on the entire village." I squeezed her hands gently. "So before he has a chance to act, we need to find him and stop him. We need to end this threat before it can reach our home."

"Y...you don’t need to do that, Harold," Isabella said. "Let them handle their own affairs. This isn’t your responsibility."

But I could see in her eyes that she knew the truth even as she spoke the words. We were already involved, whether we wanted to be or not.

"But I can recognize him, Mom," I said, leaning forward in my chair. "I remember his face perfectly—every detail, every scar, the way he moved. He shouldn’t be allowed to escape, don’t you understand? He needs to be caught before he hurts anyone else."

Isabella shook her head silently, her lips pressed together in a thin line, but I could see the war playing out behind her eyes. Logic battling against instinct, reason fighting fear.

"Mom, I don’t know what you’re scared of," I said more gently, watching her carefully. "I’m not stupid, and neither is Rosaluna. We both know this has something to do with our father. We’ve always known."

The mention of our father made her freeze completely, her breathing stopping for just a moment before resuming in short, shallow gasps. But still, she maintained her silence, her secrets locked away behind walls I couldn’t breach.

"But right now," I continued, pressing forward despite her obvious discomfort, "the more urgent situation is dealing with a dangerous man before he decides to attack us. I don’t want to spend every night looking toward the door, terrified that he might try to kill me in my sleep. I don’t want to worry about the same thing happening to Rosaluna... or to you."

Isabella bit her lip so hard I was afraid she might draw blood. Her hands in mine were ice cold despite the warmth of the day, and I could feel the fine tremors running through her fingers.

She couldn’t refute any of my words because they were logical, and we both knew it. The threat of Arlos returning with reinforcements wasn’t just a possibility—it was a probability. And when he came, he wouldn’t come alone, and he wouldn’t come peacefully.

"Look," I said, trying to inject some lightness into my voice, "I’ll only be gone for about a week. Just long enough to help them identify him and bring him to justice. Then I’ll be back home where I belong. What are you really scared will happen to me?" I even managed a small laugh. "I’ll be traveling with the Queen’s personal guard, Mom. There’s no better protection in the entire kingdom. They’ll handle threats like Arlos without breaking a sweat. You saw Olivia’s armor—imagine a dozen more knights just like her, all dedicated to keeping everyone safe."

The silence that followed felt different this time. Less panicked, more contemplative. Isabella’s grip on my hands tightened as she stared down at our intertwined fingers, her mind clearly working through the implications of everything I’d said.

When she finally looked up at me, I could see resignation beginning to replace the terror in her eyes.

"One week," she said.

"Yes, around a week," I confirmed, nodding earnestly. "I’ll come back as soon as I’m done. I promise."

"Alright..." The word came out reluctantly, as if she had to force it past some internal barrier. Then, after another pause: "When would you be leaving?"

"Probably right away, once I tell them my decision. And..." I trailed off, then forced myself to continue, "I’d like to leave before Rosaluna comes back from Isadora’s."

I didn’t need to explain why. Isabella’s expression told me she understood immediately. If my overprotective big sister learned about this mission, she would absolutely insist on coming with me.

"I’ll take care of your sister," Isabella said quietly. Then, surprising me with the sudden change of subject: "Are you hungry? Do you want me to make you something to eat before you go?"

"Yeah," I said, showing a genuine smile. "Something delicious would be perfect."