Inside the royal chambers, King Aric lay on his deathbed, a frail shadow of his former self. His skin was pale and clammy, his eyes sunken and dull. He barely moved under the lavish covers of velvet and gold, his breaths coming in shallow gasps. The only signs of life were the faint rise and fall of his chest and the occasional twitch of his fingers.
The room was dimly lit by a few candles that cast eerie shadows on the walls. The air was cold and still, as if time itself had frozen. A chill wind seeped through the cracks in the stone walls, bringing with it a sense of doom.
At the foot of the bed stood Princess Lila, the king's only child and heir. She was a striking contrast to her father, with her flawless skin, raven hair and piercing blue eyes. She wore a gown of crimson silk that accentuated her slender figure and matched the ruby pendant around her neck. She looked every inch the future queen, except for the coldness that radiated from her.
She watched her father with a detached expression, hiding the eagerness that coursed through her veins. She had waited for this moment for a long time, ever since she realized that her father was a weak and foolish ruler who had squandered the kingdom's wealth and glory. She had plotted and schemed, biding her time until she could claim the throne for herself. She had no love for her father, only contempt and ambition.
The only obstacle in her way was her mother, Queen Elara, who knelt by the bedside, holding her husband's hand. She was a gentle and kind woman, who had loved her husband despite his flaws and tried to be a good mother to her daughter. She wore a simple dress of white linen, and a veil of black lace covered her face. She sobbed quietly, praying for a miracle that would save her beloved.
The room was filled with a palpable tension, as the two women waited for the inevitable. Lila's eyes never left her father's face, while Elara's eyes were closed in prayer. They did not speak to each other, nor acknowledge each other's presence. They were like two strangers, bound by blood but divided by destiny.
The king's breathing grew fainter and fainter, until it was barely audible. His eyes fluttered open, and he looked at his wife and daughter. He saw the tears in Elara's eyes, and the coldness in Lila's. He felt a surge of regret and sorrow, knowing that he had failed them both. He tried to speak, but his voice was a raspy whisper.
"Elara...my love...forgive me..." he croaked.
Elara leaned closer, and kissed his forehead. "There is nothing to forgive, my king. You have been a good husband and a good father. I love you, always and forever."
She looked at Lila, and gestured for her to come closer. "Lila, my child, come and say goodbye to your father. He loves you, and he is proud of you."
Lila hesitated, then reluctantly moved closer. She did not want to show any emotion, but she knew she had to play the part of a grieving daughter. She bent down, and kissed her father's cheek. She felt his cold skin, and smelled his stale breath. She felt a surge of disgust and impatience, but she forced a smile on her lips.
"Father, I love you. You have been a great king, and a great father. I will honor your legacy, and rule the kingdom with wisdom and justice."
She lied, of course. She did not love him, nor respect him. She only wanted his crown, and his power. She planned to rule the kingdom with an iron fist, and crush anyone who opposed her. She had no intention of honoring his legacy, but rather erase it from history.
The king looked at her, and saw through her facade. He saw the hunger in her eyes, and the malice in her smile. He knew what she really wanted, and what she really planned. He felt a surge of fear and anger, but he was too weak to do anything. He wished he had a son, or a loyal nephew, or anyone who could stop her from taking the throne. But he had no one, only her. He realized, too late, that he had created his own doom.
He closed his eyes, and let out a final breath. He was gone.
The room was silent, except for Elara's wail of grief. She collapsed on the bed, and hugged her husband's body. She cried out his name, over and over, as if hoping to bring him back.
Lila stood up, and wiped her cheek. She felt nothing, except relief and satisfaction. She had done it. She had waited, and watched, and now she had won. She was the queen.
She looked around the room, and saw the crown on a nearby table. It was a magnificent piece of craftsmanship, made of gold and jewels. It sparkled in the candlelight, as if beckoning her.
She walked towards it, and reached out her hand. She felt a surge of excitement, as she touched the metal. She lifted it up, and placed it on her head. She felt a surge of power, as she felt the weight of the kingdom on her brow.
She smiled, and looked at herself in a mirror. She saw a queen, a ruler, a conqueror. She saw her future, and it was glorious.