The city's lights blurred as Ethan's motorcade sped toward the hospital. His mind weighed heavy with thoughts of the dead and wounded. They had paid a price he could never truly repay, yet he felt compelled to face the human toll of decisions made within the polished walls of the palace.
The vehicle slowed to a stop at the hospital's entrance. Outside, a small crowd had gathered, hushed murmurs filling the air as they recognized the king's arrival. Flashes of cameras flickered in the distance, but Ethan barely noticed.
"Your Majesty," Viktor said as he stepped out first, scanning the surroundings. "The area is secure."
Ethan followed, his shoulders squared as he walked past the guards and into the sterile white halls. His footsteps echoed faintly on the polished floor. Nurses bowed their heads respectfully as he passed, while patients peered curiously from their rooms.
"Where are they?" Ethan asked, his voice low but firm.
The chief physician, an elderly man with silver hair and a kind face, led him down a corridor. "The injured soldiers are in Ward 3, and the families of the deceased are waiting in the private hall. They've been notified of your visit."
"Thank you, Doctor." Ethan paused before stepping into the ward. "Please allow me some privacy with them."
---
The first room held a young soldier, his left leg heavily bandaged and elevated. His face was pale, a deep gash running along his temple. His eyes flickered open as Ethan entered.
"Your Majesty!" He tried to rise, grimacing in pain.
"Stay seated, soldier," Ethan said gently, pulling a chair close. "What's your name?"
"Jared, Your Majesty. Jared Kellan."
"You fought for this kingdom, Jared. You stood your ground when others would have run. I owe you more than I can express."
Jared's eyes shimmered with unshed tears. "We tried to hold the outpost… but they had automatic weapons and drones. They hit us from every angle. My sergeant didn't even have time to fire his rifle."
Ethan's chest tightened. "You did everything you could. Rest now, and heal. You'll be cared for, I promise."
He moved from one bed to another, speaking with each soldier. He listened to their stories—of surprise attacks, comrades lost, and moments of courage amidst chaos. Every word carved a deeper understanding into his soul, a bond of shared humanity forged in the crucible of war.
---
The room where the families waited was suffused with a heavy silence. Mothers clutched crumpled handkerchiefs, fathers sat stiff-backed with eyes hardened by loss, and children clung to shadows of hope that no longer lived.
Ethan stepped inside, and the weight of their grief fell upon him like a tempest.
A woman with sunken eyes approached him first, her hands trembling. "My boy… he was only twenty. He loved this kingdom." he had hope for you.
Ethan met her gaze, his voice steady but thick with emotion. "Your son was a hero. His sacrifice protected countless lives. I cannot lessen your pain, but I promise—his name will not be forgotten, and his family will be cared for."
"Care?" She spat the word bitterly. "You think money can fill the hole he left?"
"No," Ethan whispered. "Nothing can. But I will honor him, and you will never stand alone. My office will ensure you have the support you need. That is my solemn vow."
A father, his face drawn with sorrow, spoke next. "And what of those who did this? Will justice find them?"
Ethan's jaw tightened. "Yes. We will strengthen our borders, improve our defenses, and pursue every lead to find the ones responsible. I won't rest until we make this right."
He moved from family to family, offering words that felt inadequate but sincere. Each face, each story, seared itself into his memory.
---
A Silent Departure
As he exited the hospital, the night air was cool against his skin. Viktor stood beside him, silent as a sentinel.
"Does it ever get easier?" Ethan asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
"No," Viktor said. "But it makes you stronger."
Ethan looked up at the stars, their cold light distant and unfeeling. "Then I'll need that strength. More than ever."