Chapter Six: Jocasta's Confession
Chorus:
A queen's heart is a locked room, but even the thickest doors can't keep out regret. Tonight, the palace is quieter than usual—no laughter, no shouts, only the soft sound of secrets unraveling.
Jocasta sits at her vanity, candlelight flickering across her troubled face. Her hands tremble as she removes her jewelry, each piece a memory, each gem a silent witness to what she's endured and ignored.
Jocasta (whispering):
How many times have I looked away?
How many truths have I swallowed for peace?
She stares at her reflection, searching for the woman she once was. The queen, the wife, the mother—each role a mask, each mask a little heavier than the last.
The door creaks. Echo slips inside, eyes wide and uncertain.
Echo:
Mother?
Jocasta:
Come in, child.
I was hoping you'd find me.
Echo crosses the room, perching on the edge of the bed. She studies Jocasta's face, searching for clues.
Echo:
He's looking for her again.
He's tearing the palace apart.
Jocasta sighs, rubbing her temples.
Jocasta:
He's always looking for someone to blame.
First me, then you, now her.
Always someone else.
Echo:
He's afraid.
He's losing control.
Jocasta:
He never had control—just the illusion.
And I let him keep it, thinking it would keep us safe.
She stands, pacing the room, voice growing stronger.
Jocasta:
I watched him break things that couldn't be mended.
I watched him twist love into something sharp.
And I told myself it was for the good of Thebes.
Echo:
You did what you had to.
Jocasta:
Did I?
Or did I just do nothing?
Echo:
You're not like him.
Jocasta:
No.
But I'm not innocent either.
She sits beside Echo, taking her daughter's hand.
Jocasta:
I should have fought for you.
For both of you.
I should have spoken up when it mattered.
Echo:
It's not too late.
Jocasta:
Isn't it?
Your sister is a ghost in her own city.
Your father is a king in name only.
And I… I'm a queen with nothing left to rule.
Echo:
You still have us.
Jocasta:
Do I?
Or are you both slipping through my fingers too?
Echo squeezes her hand, fierce and loyal.
Echo:
We're not gone.
Not yet.
Jocasta:
I want to help her.
But I don't know how.
Echo:
She left me a code—a way to find her if we need to.
Jocasta's eyes widen, hope flickering in their depths.
Jocasta:
Then we have a chance.
A small one, but it's more than I deserve.
Chorus:
A mother's confession, a daughter's promise—
In the darkness, a spark of hope.
Scene shift: The palace corridors, empty but for the echo of Jocasta's footsteps. She passes portraits of kings and queens long dead, their painted eyes watching, judging.
Jocasta (to herself):
You ruled with fear.
I tried to rule with silence.
Neither brought peace.
She pauses before a window, looking out over the city.
Jocasta:
If I can't change the past,
I'll fight for the future.
Chorus:
The queen finds her voice,
Soft but growing stronger.
Scene shift: Laius's private chamber. He sits hunched over a desk, scribbling frantic notes—orders, threats, desperate plans. Jocasta enters without knocking.
Laius (startled):
What do you want?
Jocasta:
To speak.
And this time, you'll listen.
Laius:
I have no time for—
Jocasta:
You'll make time.
You've spent years trying to control us,
But you've only succeeded in losing us.
Laius:
You're blaming me for her rebellion?
Jocasta:
I'm blaming us both for letting it come to this.
Laius:
She's a danger to Thebes.
Jocasta:
No—she's a danger to your pride.
And maybe that's what Thebes needs.
Laius stands, anger flashing in his eyes.
Laius:
You would side with her over your own husband?
Jocasta:
I would side with what's right.
For once.
She turns and leaves, the door slamming behind her.
Chorus:
A queen's confession, a king's denial—
The palace trembles on the edge of change.
Scene shift: Jocasta's chambers. She sits at her desk, pen in hand, writing a letter.
Jocasta (writing):
To my daughters—
If you read this, know that I am sorry.
For every silence, every look away, every time I let fear win.
I am with you now.
Whatever comes next.
She seals the letter, tucking it beneath her pillow.
Chorus:
The night deepens, but the darkness is thinner now—
A mother's truth burning quietly,
A promise that the past is not the end.
Jocasta lies awake, listening to the silence, feeling—for the first time in years—like herself.
Chorus:
The queen has confessed.
The spell is broken.
And in the morning, Thebes will wake to a world forever changed.