The castle gates groaned open as the carriage rolled into the courtyard.
Night had already settled over Valdoria.
Torches burned along the stone walls, their flames bending softly in the evening wind while guards stepped aside to let the queen's carriage pass.
Seraphina barely looked outside.
The bundle of herbs still rested in her lap untouched.
Beside her, Mirelle studied her for a moment before speaking.
"You should try to rest tonight."
Seraphina let out a tired breath. "I will."
The carriage finally slowed to a stop.
Before the footman could properly open the door, a small figure darted across the courtyard.
"Mama!"
Mirelle barely had time to steady herself before her daughter Elara crashed into her arms.
"There you are," Mirelle laughed softly, kneeling to hold the little girl close. "You should be asleep."
"I waited."
"I know you did"
Elara buried her face into her mother's shoulder. Mirelle kissed the top of her head instinctively, smoothing back her hair with practiced affection.
Seraphina stood beside the carriage silently watching them.
Something tightened painfully in her chest.
Maybe jealousy.
Mirelle looked up quickly, almost guilty for a second.
"Forgive me, Your Majesty—"
"There is nothing to forgive," Seraphina said gently.
Elara peeked shyly toward the queen.
Seraphina managed a small smile. "Did you behave while your mother was away?"
The girl nodded seriously. "Mostly."
"Mostly?" Mirelle repeated.
Elara grinned.
Seraphina smiled again, though this one faded much quicker.
"Go inside," she said softly. "The night grows cold."
Dinner had already been prepared by the time they entered the hall.
The smell of roasted meat and herbs filled the room, though Seraphina felt no hunger at all.
Alaric sat near the center speaking with Cassian when the queen entered.
His eyes lifted immediately toward her.
For a brief moment, concern crossed his face.
"You're back later than expected," he said.
"The roads were slower at night," Mirelle answered before Seraphina could.
Darius glanced toward the queen carefully.
"And the healer?" he asked.
The question settled across the table.
Seraphina lowered herself into her chair slowly. "The same."
Nobody spoke for a moment after that.
Because everyone understood exactly what "the same" meant.
Alina reached calmly for her goblet.
"That must be exhausting," she said softly.
Darius's eyes flicked toward her.
Seraphina nodded once. "It is."
A servant placed food onto her plate, but the smell turned her stomach strangely.
Around the table, conversation slowly resumed in cautious pieces.
Cassian began discussing repairs needed along the southern roads.
Darius responded with suggestions.
Mirelle spoke to her daughter seated beside her.
But underneath it all sat silence.
Seraphina pushed food around her plate absentmindedly.
Alaric noticed immediately.
"You should eat something."
"I will."
But she didn't.
Minutes passed.
The food cooled untouched.
Alina's gaze drifted toward the queen again.
"You barely ate this morning either," she observed lightly.
"You should take care of your strength, Your Majesty."
The words sounded kind.
That was the problem.
Seraphina looked up slowly. "I appreciate your concern."
Alina smiled softly. "Of course."
Darius reached for his goblet before speaking to his wife.
"That is enough."
"I only expressed concern."
"I know."
But his tone warned her anyway.
The queen finally set down her utensils.
"I think I will retire early tonight."
Seraphina rose slowly from the table.
"Goodnight."
Mirelle offered her a gentle look.
Cassian nodded respectfully.
Darius remained silent.
Alina watched her leave.
Dinner ended in silence.
The moment the doors closed behind Alina and Darius in their chamber, Alina leaned back in her chair.
A small smile touched her lips before disappearing almost immediately.
But Darius caught it.
"Do not," he warned.
Alina looked innocent at once. "Do not what?"
"You know exactly what."
She lowered her voice carefully. "She looked devastated."
"That is not your concern."
"Perhaps not." She peeked at the wine in her hands before adding, "But the king looked devastated too."
Darius did not answer.
Alina tilted her head.
"You saw him."
"He loves his wife."
"Yes," Alina murmured. "But even love grows tired under pressure."
Darius finally looked at her directly then.
"That is dangerous thinking."
"And yet I am not wrong."
He exhaled slowly through his nose.
"The kingdom is tense enough already. I will not have you adding to it."
Alina's eyes sharpened.
"You speak as though I caused this."
"I speak as a man trying to keep his family alive."
That silenced her for a moment.
"You think I do not understand that?"
"I think," Darius said carefully, "you enjoy seeing cracks form where they should not."
Alina's expression cooled.
"The cracks were already there."
The royal chambers were dim when Alaric finally entered later that night.
Only one lamp still burned near the bed.
Seraphina sat near the window with her back partly turned to the room. She had changed from her formal gown, but her posture remained stiff, distant.
For a moment, Alaric simply watched her.
Then he sighed softly and crossed the room.
"You left dinner quickly."
"I was not hungry."
"You barely touched your food."
She gave a humorless smile. "You sound like Mirelle."
"She worries."
"She should not."
Alaric sat beside her carefully.
"How did it go?"
Seraphina stared ahead for a long moment before answering.
"The same."
The word felt heavier here somehow.
Alaric rubbed a hand slowly over his face.
"I'm sorry."
"So am I."
Silence settled between them.
Usually, he would reach for her hand by now.
Usually, she would lean into him.
Tonight neither moved.
"The healer gave me more herbs," she said eventually.
Alaric nodded absentmindedly.
"Good."
"She says we must keep trying."
This time he did not answer immediately.
His silence hurt more than words would have.
Seraphina finally looked toward him fully.
"You're quiet tonight."
He forced a small smile. "It has been a long day."
"The council meeting?"
His shoulders stiffened slightly.
She noticed.
"What was in the scroll?"
"Nothing urgent."
"You said that before."
"Because it's true."
"Alaric."
Something in her voice made him look away.
"I'm handling it."
"That is not what I asked."
He stood then, suddenly restless, moving toward the table near the fireplace.
"The kingdom has concerns," he said carefully.
"The kingdom always has concerns."
"And I always handle them."
Seraphina watched him closely now.
"You are hiding something from me."
"I am protecting you from unnecessary worry."
A small bitter laugh escaped her.
"Unnecessary?"
He turned toward her again. "Seraphina—"
"No, tell me honestly." Her voice stayed calm, but exhaustion cracked through it now.
"Am I the concern?"
His face tightened immediately.
"You know I would never speak of you that way."
"But others do."
"That does not matter."
"It matters to me."
He looked away again.
Seraphina swallowed slowly.
"The council wants another marriage."
Alaric said nothing.
That frightened her more than denial would have.
After a long moment, he finally spoke.
"I have made no decision."
"But they asked."
His jaw tightened.
"Yes."
The room suddenly felt colder.
Seraphina looked down at her hands.
"I see."
Alaric crossed back toward her quickly then, kneeling slightly in front of her chair.
"Listen to me." His voice softened immediately. "Nothing has changed."
But something had.
They both felt it.
That was the problem.
Seraphina reached up slowly, touching his face gently.
For a second, relief crossed his expression.
Then she leaned forward carefully, resting her forehead lightly against his.
"We can still try," she whispered.
The words were soft.
Hopeful.
Fragile.
Alaric closed his eyes.
And there it was again.
Pressure.
Exhaustion.
Duty.
Every voice from the council chamber still echoed inside his head.
An heir.
The line.
Velmora.
The kingdom.
He pulled back slightly.
"I'm tired tonight."
The moment the words left him, regret flashed across his face.
Seraphina's hand slowly fell from his cheek.
"Oh."
That single word nearly broke him.
But neither knew how to fix the distance suddenly sitting between them.
Alaric stood slowly.
"You should rest."
Neither spoke again while preparing for bed.
The silence felt unfamiliar now.
Sharp in places where warmth used to live.
When the candles were finally extinguished, they lay beside one another beneath the same blankets.
Close enough to touch.
Yet neither reached for the other.
And in the darkness between them,
something small and painful began to grow.