Princess Vesper decided to visit her mother, Queen Elaine, before departing on her perilous mission. Her mother was one of the few people who truly understood her inner turmoil.
As Vesper made her way through the grand corridors of the palace, her footsteps echoed against the polished marble floors, a rhythm that seemed to match the tension in her chest. Guards stationed along the halls straightened and bowed their heads as she passed, even with her current state, she still responded to them all with a smile.
The Queen's chambers stood at the far end of the western wing, her doors crafted with intricate carvings of roses and crescent moons, the royal symbols of Marlenia.
Vesper paused for a moment, tracing a hand over the smooth wood as she steeled herself for the emotional encounter ahead.
"Her Royal Highness, Princess Vesper, requests an audience with Your Majesty," a guard announced, his voice clear and formal, as he rapped lightly on the door.
"Let her in," came the Queen's voice, calm but tinged with an edge of concern.
The door opened, revealing Queen Elaine seated by a tall window, her silhouette framed by the golden light of the setting sun. She turned her face toward the entrance, her eyes softening as Vesper stepped inside.
"Mother," Vesper said, her voice breaking slightly as she closed the distance between them. Without hesitation, she embraced her mother tightly, finding solace in the one person who allowed her to shed the unyielding armor of her duty.
"My darling," Queen Elaine murmured, holding her close. "Please, I beg you, don't go. If anything were to happen to you, I could never bear it. You are my only child, Vesper, my only light."
Vesper pulled back slightly, her expression a mix of tenderness and resolve. "I'll be fine, Mother. You know as well as I do that Father's will is absolute. Once he willed it, there's no changing it. I'll be leaving tonight," she said, her tone firm but laced with an undercurrent of resignation.
The Queen's lips pressed into a thin line as she tried to hold back tears. "I wish things were different. I never wanted this for you. I dreamed of you wearing silken gowns, attending royal balls, meeting noble princes, and choosing a life of happiness. But your father..." She trailed off, her voice heavy with regret.
Vesper smiled faintly, a bitter edge to her expression. "Father has never seen me as anything but a tool for his ambitions. He raised me to be strong, to be his perfect heir, and to follow his commands without question. He never thinks I might be vulnerable, never considers that I could fail or..." She hesitated, her voice dropping. "...that I could die."
"Don't say such things!" Queen Elaine implored, gripping her daughter's hands tightly. "I know he's harsh, but he loves you in his own way. He believes this path will protect you, ensure you become a queen strong enough to keep this kingdom safe long after he's gone."
Vesper's eyes darkened, her jaw tightening as frustration simmered beneath her composed exterior. "Love? This isn't love, Mother. Love isn't sending your only child into battles, forcing her to risk her life over and over again. I'm not even sure he sees me as his daughter anymore, just a soldier, a pawn in his grand game."
"Vesper, please don't speak like that," her mother pleaded. "Your father may not show it, but—"
"You don't have to defend him, Mother," Vesper interrupted, her voice quiet but firm. "It's alright, truly. I've long since stopped expecting anything different from him. I'll do what he asks, as I always do. But don't ask me to believe it's out of love."
Queen Elaine's face crumpled, but she said nothing more, knowing there was little she could say to change her daughter's mind. Vesper gently squeezed her hands before stepping back.
"I'll return, Mother," she promised, though her voice held an edge of uncertainty. "Take care of yourself while I'm gone."
Queen Elaine hesitated as Vesper turned to leave, then called after her gently. "Stay a while longer, Vesper. Share a meal with me before you depart. I've had the table set."
Vesper paused, the weight of her impending mission warring with the rare opportunity to spend time with her mother. She nodded silently, allowing herself a brief reprieve from the storm that awaited her.
The two made their way to the royal dining hall, where an intimate table had been prepared. The polished surface gleamed under the soft glow of the chandeliers, adorned with fine china, crystal goblets, and an array of dishes—roasted meats, spiced vegetables, fresh fruits, and delicately baked pastries.
They sat across from one another, the clinking of silverware filling the silence as they began their meal. Conversation flowed naturally, touching on the mission ahead, Vesper's meticulous preparations, and the uncertain future of the kingdom. Queen Elaine's words were heavy with concern, her motherly instincts urging her to protect her daughter even as she knew she could not.
At one point, the Queen broached the subject of Vesper's future beyond the battlefield, expressing her hopes that one day her daughter might find happiness in marriage. The mention of it caused Vesper to stiffen visibly, her expression sharpening as she dismissed the idea without hesitation. The Queen sighed, her disappointment evident, and the conversation shifted to other topics.
Though their words were heavy, there was a warmth to the moment, a rare glimpse of normalcy in the life of a princess burdened with the weight of her kingdom. For a brief time, Vesper allowed herself to savor the food, the company, and the fleeting sense of comfort that only her mother could provide.
As the meal drew to a close, Vesper rose from her seat, her resolve returning. She bowed her head slightly in gratitude to her mother, who reached out to touch her hand one last time.
"May the gods watch over you, my child," Queen Elaine said softly, her voice carrying the weight of both hope and fear.
Vesper lingered for a moment longer, her gaze resting on her mother's face, memorizing the lines of worry etched there. Then, with a deep breath, she turned and walked out of the chamber, the weight of her mother's worry adding to the heavy burden already on her shoulders.