" All done, Your Majesty."
The doctor said as he took of his gloves and tossed it into the trash bin. He began to pack up his equipment in his briefcase while Queen Sierra lifted her head from the comfort of her pillows and sat on her spacious bed. Queen Sierra's maids helped her clean up and put on the other layers of her ensemble.
She looked up at the doctor with hopeful eyes as she asked, " Is there...any good news?"
The doctor stopped midway while trying to close his briefcase.
" Your Majesty and the King are still young. There is plenty of time."
Queen Sierra's hopeful expression dimmed and she ordered everyone present to leave her chambers.
As she sat alone in her chambers, her only escape from the watchful eyes and prying ears of the Palace. The soft glow of candlelight danced around the room, casting shadows that seemed to mirror the turmoil within her heart. Sierra traced her fingers along the corners of her vanity table, her thoughts consumed by the last words from the doctor.
Your Majesty and the King are still young.
There is plenty of time.
The clock was ticking. She did not have much time left.
For months now, the whispers of the court had grown louder, loud enough for her to feel more pressured than ever to produce an heir. All that was on the minds of the people were when Asteria would gain a little prince. Each visit from the physician brought with it a new wave of hope, swiftly followed by crushing disappointment. And so, she found herself once again alone in her chambers, struggling to overcome the disappointment of her empty womb and the weight of the high expectations placed on her shoulder.
Her hands found their way to her hair, trembling slightly as she attempted to unravel the intricate hairstyle her maids had painstakingly crafted that morning. The pins though affective at their job of maintaining the flawless hairstyle, were stubborn and refused to come out.
A sudden movement behind her startled Sierra, and she turned to find a man emerging from the shadows.
Francis Dion
His presence offered her a familiar sense of security and comfort. As his calloused yet gentle fingers helped her with the stubborn pins and then brushing through her golden locks, a single tear drop escaped her eye, betraying the brave front she always showed to others.
Francis placed the hairbrush on the vanity after brushing through her golden locks. He kneels beside her vanity stool as his green orbs stared at Sierra's reflection in the mirror, the desire to have her, seeping through his gaze.
As he leaned in to kiss her cheek, Sierra instinctively halted his advance, her palm pressed against his stubbled jaw. His soft lips grazed against the tender skin of her hand, his gaze never wavering from hers. But she knew she could not allow herself to succumb to the intoxicating allure of his touch.
"Stop," she whispered, her voice barely a breathless plea. "I belong to the King, Francis. I'm now a woman you cannot afford to touch."
Francis remains silent.
Sierra stands up and tries to walk away when he pulls her into his embrace from behind. His arms were a place she yearned to lose herself in but she of all people knew the dangers of such indulgence, the consequences too dire to even think about.
"Please," she implored, her voice trembling with suppressed emotion. "Let me go."
But Francis held her tighter, his embrace a silent confession of his love they dared not speak about aloud. And as the flickering candlelight cast their shadows upon the walls, Sierra knew that their forbidden affections could only lead to their destruction.
"Do you... regret giving up your life on the battlefield with me?" Francis's voice was a soft murmur against Sierra's ear, laden with the weight of unspoken longing. "Do you think about what would have happened had you rejected his proposal?"
" I do and we both would have been dead if I had not married him."
Sierra turned around to face Francis. She was engulfed by Francis's tall and muscular stature. His dark hair was longer than ever and he no longer had the buzzcut she would teasingly ridicule him about. The look in his bright green eyes however did not change. Not in the slightest.
"Begone, Francis," Sierra pleaded, her voice trembling with the effort to contain the flood of memories threatening to flood in her mind "Forget about our time together. I am married now."
Francis scoffed, a bitter twist of his lips betraying the pain that lay beneath his stoic façade. "You are the only one that remembers they are married, Sierra."
Her heart clenched at his words, confusion and disbelief warring within her. "What do you mean?" she whispered, her voice barely a whisper.
With a swift movement, Francis brought her to the large window overlooking her garden, forcing her to confront the truth she had long sought to deny. Sierra's eyes widened in disbelief as she beheld the sight before her.
King Edward, her husband, stood in the moonlit garden, his arms wrapped around another woman in a tender embrace. Shock coursed through Sierra's veins, her body trembling with the weight of betrayal. She stared at the scene below, her mind struggling to comprehend the reality of her shattered dreams.
"There is no way..." she murmured, the words a mantra of denial upon her lips.
But Francis's grip upon her shoulders was firm, his gaze unwavering as he forced her to confront the painful truth. "Open your eyes, Sierra," he urged, his voice laced with a sorrow that mirrored her own. "See the man he truly is."
And as Sierra looked upon the scene unfolding before her, the illusion of her perfect marriage shattered like fragile glass, leaving behind only the broken pieces she is now forced to pick up and mend alone.
Sierra's world crumbled around her in a second. With a choked sob, she sank to the floor, her body wracked with uncontrollable sobs that echoed through the silent chamber.
" Your Majesty, are you alright?" The muffled voices of her maids reached her ears through the fog of despair, accompanied by the sound of gentle knocking upon the door.
Francis glanced at the door, a curse escaping his lips as he realized their precarious situation. "I will come back for you, Sierra," he whispered urgently, his voice barely audible over her anguished cries. And with that solemn vow, he disappeared into the darkness, leaving behind no traces of his visit.
The door burst open, and Sierra's maids rushed into the room, their faces etched with concern as they saw the queen covering her face and sobbing on the floor. "Your Majesty, what has happened?" one of them exclaimed, her hands fluttering anxiously as she knelt beside Sierra.
" Don't be discouraged, Your Majesty. God will soon bless you and the King with a child!"
But Sierra could offer no words in response. All she could do was weep. And as her maids gathered around her, offering words of comfort and solace, Sierra knew that her world would never be the same again.