The royal chambers of Queen Morgana and King Xavian were vast and magnificent, adorned with intricate designs and gilded furniture that spoke of the kingdom's wealth and history.
The large four-poster bed, draped in heavy silks and brocades, stood as the centerpiece of the room, a place meant for rest and comfort. Yet tonight, it was a place of anguish and sorrow.
Queen Morgana lay in her husband's embrace, her body racked with sobs. Her once elegant and composed demeanor had crumbled, revealing the depth of her despair. Tears streamed down her face, leaving trails of glistening sorrow on her cheeks.
Her hands clung to Xavian's tunic as if it were the only thing anchoring her to reality.
"Why, Xavian?" she choked out between sobs, her voice a broken whisper. "Why do we have to sacrifice our son like this? He's so broken and sad. How can we do this to him?"
King Xavian held his wife tightly, his heart breaking with each tear that fell from her eyes.
His own face was etched with guilt and sorrow, the weight of their decision pressing down on him like an unbearable burden. He had always been the pillar of strength for his family, but tonight, he felt as though he was crumbling under the pressure.
"I wish there was another way," he murmured, his voice thick with regret. "But our hands are tied. If we don't do this, war will surely come, and countless lives will be lost. I never wanted to cause Eirik pain. I never wanted to be the source of his suffering."
Morgana's sobs grew louder, echoing through the vast chamber, a sound of pure, unfiltered grief. "He's just a boy, Xavian. Our precious boy. How can we send him away like this? How can we rip him away from everything he knows and loves?"
Xavian's grip tightened around her, his own eyes filled with unshed tears.
He had been raised to be a king, to make the hard decisions that no one else could, but nothing had prepared him for this.
"I know, my love. I know. It tears me apart as well. But I promise you, he won't be alone. I'll make sure he has his personal guard and maids. They will be his support in Zephyros. I'm so ashamed that I couldn't even tell him about the proposal myself. I had to send a servant. I couldn't bear to see the pain and sadness on his face. I feel like I've failed him."
Morgana clung to her husband, she had always been the one to hold their family together, the one who could soothe their children's fears with a gentle touch and a soft word.
But now, she felt powerless, helpless in the face of her son's suffering. "I just want him to be happy. I want him to smile, to feel safe and loved. This marriage... it feels like a death sentence for his spirit."
Xavian kissed the top of her head, his own tears finally falling.
He had spent years learning to control his emotions, to present a strong front no matter the situation, but tonight, he was just a father grieving for his son.
"We'll do everything we can to ensure his happiness, Morgana. We'll support him in every way possible. We'll stay strong for him."
Gradually, the queen's sobs began to subside, her exhaustion taking over. She nestled closer to Xavian, her breathing slowing as she drifted into a restless sleep, remnants of tears still glistening on her cheeks.
Xavian watched her, his heart aching at the sight of his beloved wife in such a state. He held her close, wishing he could shoulder all the pain and spare her this torment. He knew that their decision was the only way to protect their kingdom, but it felt like a hollow victory.
Across the palace, in his own chambers, Prince Theron lay wide awake, staring at the ceiling.
His room was simpler compared to his parents', yet still richly furnished. Dark wood panels lined the walls, and heavy drapes covered the windows, blocking out the moonlight. A large, highly decorated bed dominated the space, but it offered no comfort to him tonight.
Theron's mind was a storm of frustration and helplessness. He clenched and unclenched his fists, the muscles in his jaw working as he struggled to contain his emotions.
He had always been the one to protect his siblings, the one who could be counted on to do what was right. But now, he felt powerless.
"If only Zephyros had a princess," he muttered to himself, his voice filled with bitterness. "I would marry her in a heartbeat, just to save Eirik from this fate."
He could feel the weight of his own inadequacy pressing down on him. He was the crown prince, yet he felt powerless to protect his youngest brother. The image of Eirik's tear-streaked face haunted him, a constant reminder of his failure.
Earlier, he had gone to check on Eirik after hearing the news of the marriage proposal. The council's decision had left him devastated, and he needed to see for himself how Eirik was holding up.
Upon reaching Eirik's room, he had heard the muffled sounds of sobbing. His heart clenched at the sound, knowing it was his gentle brother who was crying.
Slowly, he opened the door just a crack and peered inside.
Eirik sat on his bed, his head resting on their mother's lap, his shoulders shaking with each sob.
Their mother, Queen Morgana, was sitting beside him, her own tears flowing freely as she held him close. The twins, Lucian and Julian, were by their sides, their faces etched with concern and sorrow as they tried to console their younger brother.
Theron watched silently, feeling the weight of their collective grief. He could see the tear streaks on Eirik's face, the redness of his eyes, and the utter despair that consumed him. It was a sight that broke his heart.
He wanted to rush in, to hold Eirik and tell him everything would be okay, but he felt rooted to the spot, helpless.
He had closed the door quietly, leaving his family to their grief.
"You deserve happiness, Eirik," he whispered into the darkness. "Not to be sacrificed like this."
He turned over in bed, burying his face in the pillow, wishing for sleep that would not come.
The thought of facing Eirik, of seeing the pain in his eyes, was unbearable. He couldn't bring himself to go to his brother's side, knowing that there was nothing he could do to make it better.
In the silence of his chambers, Theron's frustration gave way to sorrow. Tears of his own began to fall, soaked into the pillow. He felt utterly helpless, and longed for a way to ease Eirik's suffering.
In the darkness, the royal family grappled with their grief and helplessness, each member feeling the weight of their decisions and the pain of their youngest son and brother. It was a night of shared sorrow, their hearts breaking in unison, as they faced the consequences of their duty to their kingdom.
Queen Morgana's soft snores filled the air as she slept fitfully in King Xavian's arms. He held her close, his own eyes staring into the darkness, lost in his thoughts. His mind was a turmoil of regrets and fears, each tear his wife shed cutting him deeper.
Prince Theron lay awake, his heart aching for his brother. He knew he had to be strong, to support Eirik in any way he could, but at that moment, all he felt was despair. He closed his eyes, trying to find a moment of peace, but his thoughts were relentless, filled with images of Eirik's sorrow.
In another part of the palace, the twins, Lucian and Julian, sat together in silence, their hearts heavy with the knowledge that their brother was suffering. They had always been close, their bond unbreakable, but now they felt as though they were losing Eirik, and there was nothing they could do to stop it.
Julian looked at his twin, his eyes filled with a mixture of anger and sadness. "Why can't we do something, Lucian? Why do we have to just sit here and watch him suffer like that?"
Lucian shook his head, his own emotions warring within him. "Because we're just as helpless as he is, Julian. We're all bound by the decisions of others, and it's tearing us apart."
Julian clenched his fists, his frustration evident. "I hate this. I hate that we're powerless to protect him. He doesn't deserve this."
Lucian placed a hand on his brother's shoulder, trying to offer some comfort. "We'll find a way, Julian. We have to believe that we'll find a way to help him."