The Dragon Kings' Forbidden Witch

Chapter 60: Do You Remember What Name She Said?

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Greaves’s pulse quickened, but he kept his tone casual. "That’s unusual, isn’t it? A woman arriving alone in a village this small?"

"Very unusual," Aldous said. He took another drink. "She was running. From something. Someone. She was terrified."

"Did anyone help her?"

"The herbalist. Marta. She took her in." Aldous’s voice had become quieter, more introspective. "Helped her through the birth. Helped her survive."

"And the child?" Greaves asked. "Did she have a child?"

"A girl," Aldous said. "Born a few months after the mother arrived. I remember... I remember when the herbalist was helping with the birth, I remember hearing the midwife say something strange."

He trailed off, taking another drink.

"What did she say?" Greaves pressed.

Aldous’s eyes were unfocused now. He was drinking more than speaking, but the words were still coming, slowly released from wherever he’d been keeping them locked away.

"She said... she said the girl’s name. Not the name the mother called her, but... her real name. Her birth name." Aldous’s voice dropped almost to a whisper. "She said it like she was speaking something sacred. Like she was announcing royalty."

"Do you remember what name she said?" Greaves asked, his heart racing.

Aldous opened his mouth.

His eyes rolled slightly.

And then his head dropped forward onto the bar.

"Aldous?" Greaves tried, but the man was already unconscious, his body going slack against the wooden counter.

Hal appeared immediately, moving to help the unconscious man.

"He’s had too much," Hal said, with the tone of someone who’d seen this before. "I’ll get him a room upstairs, let him sleep it off."

Greaves wanted to grab Aldous, shake him awake, force the answer out of him.

But he knew that would be counterproductive.

So he simply nodded and returned to his table, his mind churning.

Her real name. Her birth name.

A name the midwife said like she was announcing royalty.

***

The next morning, Greaves returned to Marta’s herb shop.

Marta looked up from her work when he entered, and her expression suggested she’d been expecting him.

"You spoke with Aldous last night," she said. It wasn’t a question.

"I did," Greaves admitted. "He was... forthcoming."

"He drinks too much when he thinks about the old days," Marta said, returning to sorting dried herbs. "He thinks he’s being discreet, but he’s never been good at keeping secrets when he’s had ale."

"I’m curious about the secrets he was hinting at," Greaves said. "About the woman who arrived eighteen years ago. And her daughter."

Marta’s hands stilled.

"There are some things that shouldn’t be spoken aloud," Marta said. "Some truths that are better left unspoken."

"Why?" Greaves asked. "Why keep secrets about a woman and child? What are you protecting them from?"

Marta met his eyes, and for a moment, Greaves saw something in her expression....sadness, perhaps, or resignation.

"I’m protecting them from the same thing their mother was protecting them from," Marta said quietly. "From being found. From being known. From having their past catch up with them."

"And what is their past?" Greaves pressed. "What are they running from?"

"That," Marta said firmly, "is not for me to say. It is not my story to tell."

She returned to her work, making it clear the conversation was over.

But Greaves had heard enough.

The woman and her daughter were not who they claimed to be. They were in hiding. They were running from something or someone that posed a significant threat.

And the village, for whatever reason, had decided to protect them.

***

Over the next two days, Greaves continued his investigation in different ways.

He observed the cottage from a distance, noting when the shutters opened for brief moments, when smoke rose from the chimney, when there was evidence of habitation.

He listened to casual conversations in the tavern, piecing together hints and half-sentences that revealed information people weren’t saying directly.

He watched how the village responded to him....with increasing wariness, with subtle warnings, with a kind of collective closing-off as they realized he wasn’t going to stop asking questions.

And slowly, the picture became clearer.

1: "A woman arrived 18 years ago, pregnant, alone, terrified She was running from something/someone A daughter was born (name unknown, but called another name now...not her original name)

2: The midwife had spoken the girl’s birth name "like announcing royalty" The village had collectively decided to protect these two.

3: The woman’s background was significant enough to require hiding, The child’s background was equally significant, the midwife’s reaction suggested importance.

4: There was something unusual about the child, something that made her noteworthy enough to be announced with reverence The village’s protection suggested they understood the stakes of discovery

But what he still didn’t know, Exactly who they were running from? Why the child’s birth name was significant, and what made them important enough to protect and whether the threat was still active

***

On his eighth day in Ashford, Greaves made one final attempt at direct questioning.

He returned to Marta’s shop during a quiet afternoon when few other customers were present.

"I’m leaving soon," he said without preamble. "I want to understand what I’ve been investigating before I go."

Marta didn’t look up from her work. "I’ve already told you what I can tell you."

"You told me the woman was running from something. You told me some people in the village are protecting her. You didn’t tell me why." Greaves stepped closer"

Marta set down her mortar and pestle and finally looked at him.

"Some names carry weight," she said. "Some names carry destiny. Some names carry danger. That child was born with a name that meant she was never meant to be ordinary. That she was never meant to live a quiet life."

"What was the name?" Greaves asked.

"It doesn’t matter," Marta said. "She’s not that person anymore. She’s a girl living a quiet life in a quiet village. She’s safe here."

"But she won’t be," Greaves said. "My investigation is just the beginning. Others will come looking for her. Others who know more than I do."

Marta’s expression hardened. "Then I hope, when they come, they come with mercy rather than judgment."

It was a message, Greaves understood. A warning, perhaps, or a plea.

The woman and child were not meant to be found. But they would be. And when they were, the village hoped they would be treated with compassion.

***

That evening, Greaves composed his formal report to Cedric.

He wrote carefully, including what he’d learned and what he suspected, while being careful to acknowledge what remained unknown.

My Lord Cedric,

Investigation into Elara and Morgana of Ashford has yielded significant findings:

1. CONFIRMED: Elara arrived in Ashford approximately 18 years ago.

2. CONFIRMED: A daughter was born several months after Elara’s arrival.

3. SIGNIFICANT: The child was born with a different name than the one she currently uses. The birth name was spoken by the midwife with apparent reverence, suggesting significance.

4. CRITICAL: Multiple sources indicate the girl possesses unusual qualities, sources are vague about specifics, but suggest something more than ordinary.

Recommend: Investigation into Elara’s background before arrival in Ashford.

Will return to capital with findings. Further investigation may require resources beyond a single investigator’s capabilities.

—Greaves

He sealed the letter and arranged for its immediate dispatch to the capital, marked urgent and encrypted.

Then he packed his belongings.

His time in Ashford was ending.

But the investigation was far from over.