The palace was unusually still that afternoon, a quiet so deep it seemed to echo through the long corridors. Seraphina's footsteps barely made a sound as she walked toward her father's chambers. She could feel the weight of her own exhaustion in the air, as though her body had absorbed every ounce of the weariness that had settled over the kingdom with the arrival of winter. But it wasn't just the cold that weighed on her. It was the silence that had grown between her and her parents—the unspoken truth that hung between them: Seraphina's illness.
Her father's sickness had been a temporary affliction, weakened by age and the cold season, but Seraphina's was another matter entirely. The healer's words echoed in her mind: There is no cure. Your time is short. That was the truth they had learned in private, one they never spoke aloud.
Her visits to her father had grown less frequent, not out of neglect, but because of the strain those visits placed on her. Every time she sat with him, it was the same conversation, the same reminder that she had a responsibility to marry—to find someone who could help rule the kingdom after her father. But that was the last thing she wanted. She couldn't marry when she knew the future held so little for her. She couldn't bear to bring someone into her world, knowing how it would all end.
She reached the door to her father's chambers and hesitated. Taking a deep breath, she pushed it open. The sight of him lying in bed was a stark contrast to the king who had once commanded entire armies and demanded the respect of all who entered his halls. His once powerful frame had shrunk, his features softened by age and illness. Still, his eyes held the sharpness they had always carried, and they watched her as she stepped inside.
"Seraphina," he greeted her, his voice raspy but warm. "I didn't expect you to come today."
She smiled softly, crossing the room to sit beside him. Her heart ached as she saw him struggle to sit up, his body too weak to do so without assistance. "I wanted to see you, Father," she said, her voice calm, though she could feel the storm brewing inside her. "How are you feeling?"
He offered a weak smile. "Better, but still not quite myself. Winter's chill has worn me down more than I expected."
Seraphina nodded, her hand resting on his, to reassure him.
There was a long pause before her father spoke again. "Seraphina, I know you've been busy. You're doing more than your share of work for the kingdom. But it's time we had a conversation about the future."
Seraphina's stomach tightened. She knew where this was going, and the words were already forming on her father's lips before he spoke them.
"You need to marry," he said, his voice gentle but firm. "It's not just about securing an heir for the throne, though that is important. But you need someone who can help you rule when I am no longer able. We can't wait much longer. The kingdom is too fragile."
She had heard this speech countless times, but today, it felt as though the words were spoken with a heavier weight, a weight that pressed down on her chest. Her father's eyes held a quiet insistence.
"You know as well as I do that we can't afford to delay anymore, Seraphina," he continued, his voice hoarse but determined. "The kingdom needs a ruler who can lead in my place when I am no longer able to do so. You have the strength, the intelligence... But you need someone by your side. Someone you can trust. Someone who can help carry the burden of leadership."
His words hung in the air, and for a moment, the only sound in the room was the soft crackle of the fire in the hearth. Seraphina's thoughts churned, each word landing like a stone in her stomach. She could feel the tightness in her chest deepen, the frustration welling up inside her like a storm she could no longer contain.
"You're not listening, Father," she said through clenched teeth, her voice trembling with the effort to keep it steady. "I can't marry. I can't tie myself to anyone when I know how little time I have left. I can't bring someone into this, knowing how it will end."
Her father's face softened, but his expression remained resolute. "Seraphina, I understand your fears. I do. But the kingdom—"
"The kingdom!" Seraphina interrupted, her voice rising despite her best efforts to control it. "What about me, Father? What about my life? You talk of the kingdom, but I am not a pawn to be moved on a chessboard. I have a future too, even if it is brief. You cannot force me to marry someone just for the sake of ruling. My illness does not make me any less of a person, but it makes me more... aware of the reality of my situation."
She stood abruptly, her chair scraping across the stone floor as she moved away from the bedside. Her father's eyes followed her, his expression pained, but she could see the frustration in his gaze as well. He was too entrenched in his duty, his sense of responsibility for the kingdom's future, to understand the turmoil she was living with every day.
"You think I don't know this is hard for you?" her father said, his voice breaking with the strain of his own helplessness. "But the kingdom cannot be left without a strong hand to guide it. I cannot leave you to face this alone. We've talked about this."
"I don't want to talk about it," Seraphina snapped, her voice sharp with frustration. She turned to face him, her chest heaving with a mixture of anger and despair. "I don't want to think about it, because I know how it will end. I am not like you, Father. I cannot think of the future when all I have is a handful of days, weeks, months at best."
There was a long silence, one that stretched between them, thick with unspoken words. Seraphina could feel the tears threatening to fall, but she held them back with all her strength. She had cried so many times before, alone in the dark, when the truth became too heavy to bear. But not here. Not now. Not in front of him.
"I cannot make you understand," she whispered, her voice quieter now, but still laced with the same bitterness. "I have matters to handle."
With that, Seraphina bowed low in a gesture of respect and turned on her heel, her footsteps echoing through the stone halls as she fled from her father's chambers. The door swung shut behind her with a finality that reverberated through her chest.
She didn't stop to look back.