What should've been the King and Queen's night turned out to be a talking session for the Queen with the Queen Mother and a royal discourse for the King .
"What do you mean by you cannot spend the night with the Queen , Your Majesty ? She is finally here and you need to show her that she is your wife ." Morgana spoke , while the King stared stressfully into nowhere .
Morgana noticed the King's silence, his shoulders stiff and his gaze distant. She sighed, her voice softer now, the edges of her stern tone fading into something more compassionate. Gently, she lifted her hand and placed it on his shoulder, the touch a subtle reminder of the bond they had shared for years. "Your Majesty ," she said, her voice now holding a tone of understanding. "I know this is overwhelming for you. I truly do. But shutting yourself off from everyone will not ease your burden. You need to talk, even if it's just to me. Let me help you, as I always have."
The King's eyes narrowed for a moment, wrestling with his inner turmoil. But Morgana's words slowly began to sink in, tugging at the walls he had built around himself. After a long moment of silence, he turned to face his former royal advisor , his expression weary yet resolved before he finally realised that is all in his heart and mind .
Meanwhile, across the hall, Elara sat by the fire, sharing a cup of tea with the Queen Mother as they spoke of everything and everything expect her past life . Finally ,Elara mustered the bravery to question , after all the conversation she heard about "her children" ,"Your Grace , if I may ask ," Elara turned to stare at the Queen Mother who sipped on her tea before she nodded . Tightly gripping the cup , Elara spoke ,"What happened for me to end up in the dungeons?"
As if Elara had suddenly mentioned something that struck the Queen Mother's heart, her expression morphed into a mask of guilt and pain. The usual composure she held in every situation faltered for a fleeting moment, as if the mention of the past brought with it a deep, unspoken sorrow. Her lips parted, but she seemed to struggle to find the words. Elara, sensing the change, sat back a little more in her seat, though not fully relaxed. The question she had been holding in for so long finally hung in the air, yet she feared the answer could break her more than she already was.
"You know," the Queen Mother said softly, a small, almost wistful smile on her lips. "You and Theron never really let me into your marriage. I was always a bystander. Even though you two had your issues, I was never fully informed until..." The Queen Mother paused, her expression tightening, as though the next words were painful to utter. She swallowed hard, and Elara could feel the tension in the room grow.
Finally, the Queen Mother continued, her voice quieter now, "You turned sick, and he called me back home. He told me that you asked him to keep you as far away from the castle people... from him and the children. You were dearly sick, and although he didn't agree to keep you in the dungeons, you insisted. You begged him, having him grant the one wish you had. You didn't want to infect anyone, but most of all, you didn't want to infect the children. You adored them too much to have them on death beds too ."
Elara's voice was a mere whisper, the realization hitting her like a cold wave. "I was sick..."
The Queen Mother nodded, her hand resting lightly on Elara's shoulder as she offered a comforting presence. Yet, at the same time, Elara felt that strange, electrifying sensation rush through her again, but she couldn't focus on it now. Her thoughts were racing, trying to piece together the fractured memories. What sickness? What had happened to her? And is it the reason why she is like this ?
Before Elara could ask, the door opened, and Morgana entered, her face a picture of urgency. "Your Majesty," she said, bowing slightly before standing tall again. "The King would like to spend the night with you."
Shifting her eyes to the Queen Mother, Elara noticed the smile on the Queen Mother's face, a smile that she should have on her lips too, yet she couldn't share it now.
"Go now, dear. He is finally agreeing to spend the night with you," the Queen Mother said, her voice gentle but tinged with something else—perhaps encouragement, perhaps worry. Elara stood up, the weight of the moment settling upon her.
The Queen Mother leaned forward, offering a hug, but it felt more like she was passing on a message. As she whispered in Elara's ear, her breath warm against her skin, "He will tell you all about it, just don't rush him. It's not easy to see something that you thought you lost forever coming back to you."
Pulling back, the two women locked eyes for a moment, a silent understanding passing between them. Then, with a final nod, Elara turned to leave with Morgana.
On the way to their reserved room, Elara's mind raced with a whirlwind of thoughts. She had been released from the dungeons after a full year, and now she had finally learned the reason why. But what kind of sickness was so infectious that they needed to lock her up? More importantly, had they cured her?
Before she could dwell too deeply on these questions, she suddenly found herself standing before two large double doors, behind which her husband awaited her—and, perhaps, the answers to all her questions.
Morgana turned to her, bowing deeply. "I apologize for not preparing you enough, Your Majesty."
Elara opened her mouth to ask what preparations Morgana was referring to, but before she could, the woman was already approaching her, gently unfastening the intricate ball gown Elara had worn earlier. She was now standing in a stunning nightgown. It still resembled a gown, but it was lighter, more fluid, and lacked the constricting corset that had tortured her ribs earlier.
Morgana bowed once more and, with a graceful motion, opened the door for her. Elara hesitated, briefly staring at Morgana's gloved hands, before finally stepping over the threshold and into the room.