"The Princess is dead!"

The news dropped heavily, silencing the previously bustling room.

The head physician was the one to announce the news so no one dared to make a dispute, a silent panic spreading through the infirmary room.

Princess Eleanor had always been sickly but her condition worsened drastically in the past month and all the physicians had been working tirelessly to extend her life even for a month more.

"Someone report the news to His M-Majesty," The head physician's voice trembled as he gave the order, knowing too well how dire this outcome was.

As a poor apprentice physician was tasked with informing the King, the head physician checked the Princess' pulse once more, like if he tried it enough times, lifeblood would flow through her painfully thin wrist.

The Princess was laid out on a sick bed, her flaxen hair splayed out, and in glow of the morning sun, she looked like she was only sleeping.

The head physician looked like the dead one, his skin was pale, dark circles on his gaunt face. He hadn't had a good night of sleep ever since the Princess' health took a turn for the worse, and now it seemed like he would never be getting any sleep before he was thrown in prison.

The apprentice physician who had been sent off scurried down the hallway with terror in his sunken eyes. Fortunately for him, the King was at a court meeting so he quickly relayed the information to the King's courtier and then hurried back to the infirmary.

Back to that dreadful silence, where all the physicians stood like wraiths, watching the figure of the dead Princess that had long-breathed her last.

There was no sound of crying, those present in the room were too scared to even draw in a proper breath.

The King's courtier watched with bulging eyes as the robed physician ran off after relaying such grim news first thing in the day.

King Rolfe was currently having an audience with delegates from Mistfall, this news mustn't be heard by outsiders, he could only wait till His Majesty was done receiving them.

How fortunate that in a short time, King Rolfe swept out of the throne room, dressed in royal red and gold, a grove between his strong eyebrows.

The courtier quickly hurried to the King's side, dressed in livery, his back straight. "Are they delegates leaving, Your Majesty?"

Rolfe glanced at his courtier, his dark blue eyes tired, white streaks in his blond hair. "Yes. Have them properly sent off."

"Right away, Your Majesty," Graham bowed stiffly, but he made no move to walk off, sticking close to the King's side as they walked deeper into the east wing of the castle.

Rolfe picked up on this, arching a brow. "Is there something I need to know?"

"W-Well, yes," Graham stumbled over his words, the state of the Princess was a rather complicated situation to report. "I just received news from the infirmary…"

When the infirmary was mentioned, Rolfe slowed to a stop, giving his courtier his full attention.

"The Princess is dead, Your Majesty." Graham forced himself to say, nearly falling to his knees as he bowed deeply.

A myriad of emotions went through Rolfe's dead eyes, the King only used a few seconds to process his courtier's words, right before sweeping past him, clearly heading for the infirmary.

Graham had no choice but to hurry after the King, wringing his hands nervously as he managed to steal the opportunity to send off menservants to fulfill His Majesty's orders for the delegates.

The silence in the infirmary was shattered by King Rolfe throwing the door open, without sparing a look at the catatonic crowd of physicians in the room, he went right to his daughter's side.

"Eleanor," He called to her like he expected a response, his voice raspy with unspoken emotions. "Williston!" He whipped around to summon the head physician.

"Your Majesty," The head physician said sagely although he was trembling in his robes.

"I demand an explanation." Rolfe said coldly, his hand hovering over his daughter like he couldn't bear to touch her.

"We tried all we could to extend the Princess' life but she was too weak to live on." He explained in a very quiet voice, knowing that the situation was an egg that could be shattered at any moment.

Rolfe stared at the young girl lying peacefully on the bed, an otherworldly quality to her. He had known with a certainty the moment he had stepped into the infirmary that his daughter would never open her eyes again.

He rose to his feet without touching her, regaining his calm. "Keep the Princess' death a secret." He ordered, "If so much as a whisper of this gets out, blood will run."

The King's threat was overkill, the physicians were already worried for their safety, they knew better than to put themselves in further danger.

Rolfe swept out of the infirmary, the true state of his emotions hidden beneath a mask of tired dark eyes. To his courtier, he added in a quieter tone. "Have the Princes summoned. Send them to my study."

"Right away, Your Majesty." Graham bowed, walking away in the other direction from the King.

He would have to go himself to retrieve the Princes personally. He couldn't trust anyone else with the task.

Graham adjusted his cravat as he headed out of the castle, he knew exactly where to find both Princes. How fortunate that they were within the castle grounds at the moment.

He went to the Crown Prince first. It was morning so Crown Prince Alexander would be training in the fields by the stables.

A powerful physique gleamed under the morning sun, Prince Alexander had taken off his undershirt as he sparred with a knight, their movements seamless.

Graham ran right up to them, "My apologies, Your Highness, but may I speak to you for a moment? It quite important."

Alexander jumped back to avoid a strike from his sparring partner, dismissing the grinning knight with a wave of his hand. He walked off to the side with his father's courtier, sheathing his sword, his bare upper body gleaming with sweat.

"What's the matter?"