The prince sat in his chamber, his posture rigid, his fingers drumming nervously on the edge of the wooden table. It had been three days since Mary left to seek help from her kingdom, and yet, not a single word had returned. The court meeting loomed ahead, set for noon, and the weight of explaining himself pressed heavily on his shoulders.
He paced the room, his boots clacking against the stone floor, his mind racing. He replayed the events over and over—the promises he had made, the confidence he had displayed in the court. Now, without Mary's response or the aid he had assured, his words felt nothing.The thought of facing the council, his father, and worst of all, Rhys, filled him with a mix of dread and anger.
A knock at the door interrupted his thoughts. Before he could respond, the queen entered, her elegant figure framed by the doorway. Her presence was calm, her hands folded in front of her, a faint smile on her lips.
"My son," she said softly, her voice carrying a maternal warmth. "I came to see how you're holding up."
The prince turned to her, his expression cold. "Do not call me that," he snapped, his tone laced with bitterness. "You may be married to my father, but you are not my mother."
The queen sighed, undeterred by his hostility. She stepped further into the room, her gaze steady. "I only came to offer comfort, nothing more. I know the pressure you're under."
The prince laughed bitterly, shaking his head. "Comfort?" he repeated, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "What comfort could you possibly offer me? It only takes a son for you to betray me."
The queen's brow furrowed slightly, her composure faltering for a moment. "What are you talking about?"
He turned to face her fully, his eyes blazing with frustration and hurt. "Do not act like you care," he said, his voice rising. "It's all an act, isn't it? You only care about securing your place, ensuring your own power. You're fortunate you don't bear a child because if you did, you'd make him a prince, wouldn't you? You'd make him a king and cast me aside like I'm nothing."
The queen's face softened, a mix of sadness and weariness in her eyes. "You think so little of me," she said quietly. "I have no desire to replace you. I only wish for this kingdom to thrive, and for you to find your place in it."
"My place?" he snapped. "My place has been nothing but failure. The court think of me as a ridicule. I can see it in their eyes. And you stand here, pretending to care, another form of pity."
The queen took a step closer, her voice firm but not unkind. "I pity you, yes. But not for the reasons you think. I pity the man who cannot see his own worth, who drowns in his insecurities instead of rising above them."
Her words struck a chord, but the prince refused to let her see it. He turned away, his jaw tightening. "Leave," he said curtly. "I don't need your pity, your advice, or your presence."
The queen hesitated, her eyes lingering on him for a moment longer. She wanted to say more, but she knew it would only fall on deaf ears. With a quiet sigh, she turned and left the room, the door closing softly behind her.
As the prince stood alone once more, the silence felt heavier than before. He glanced at the clock, its hands inching closer to noon. The court meeting was near, and he had no answers, no plan, and no ally to lean on.
He sank into the chair by the window, his gaze drifting to the horizon. Somewhere out there, Mary was fighting to save him, to save them all. But what if she failed? What if she didn't return?
For the first time in a long while, the prince allowed himself to feel vulnerable. He clenched his fists, his nails digging into his palms. He wasn't ready to face the court, but time would not wait for him. The hour was approaching.
–––––––––––––––—
In the kingdom of Valeria.
The grand hall of Mary's homeland radiated a cold splendor. Marble floors gleamed under the sunlight streaming through arched windows, and the banners of her father's kingdom hung high, bearing the emblem of a lion gripping a sword. At the center of it all sat her father, King Aldred, perched on his ornate throne with an expression of unyielding authority.
Mary knelt before him, her head bowed low, her hands clasped together tightly. Her once regal demeanor now appeared diminished, replaced by desperation. This was the third time she had pleaded with him since her arrival.
"Father," she began, her voice trembling but determined. "Please, reconsider. I beg you to send help, father !."
King Aldred leaned forward slightly, his piercing eyes fixed on his daughter. His presence was commanding, his silver hair gleaming like steel under the light. "Enough," he said, his voice cutting through the air like a blade. "You have begged, pleaded, and humiliated yourself enough for that man and his kingdom. It is unbecoming of you, Mary."
Mary raised her eyes to meet his, tears threatening to spill but held back by sheer willpower. "But, Father, they have captured the Firelands beast. That is a feat no kingdom has ever achieved! It is proof that they are capable of turning the tides in this war. With your help—"
"With my help, what?" the king interrupted, his voice sharp. "You believe I should send my men, my resources, to aid a kingdom that lost a war it could not afford to lose? A kingdom led by a pathetic man who sends his wife to beg for help in his stead?"
Mary flinched at the words, but she did not back down. "Edward is not pathetic," she replied, her voice trembling. "He is flawed, yes, but he is trying. He is trying to save his people, to make up for his mistakes."
King Aldred scoffed, leaning back in his throne. "Trying is not enough, Mary. A king does not try, he acts. He succeds. Your husband has done neither. I married you off to that kingdom to strengthen our alliance, not to weaken our standing by involving ourselves in their failures."
Mary's shoulders sagged as his words cut through her. She clenched her fists, her nails digging into her palms. "Father," she said softly, "is this truly about Edward's failures, or is it about your pride?"
King Aldred's eyes narrowed. "Careful, daughter. You tread dangerous ground."
She took a deep breath, her voice rising with emotion. "You speak of strength, but what strength is there in abandoning an ally in their time of need? What strength is there in turning your back on your own blood? You sent me to that kingdom, Father. You made me a part of their world. How can you ask me to stand by and do nothing while they fall?"
King Aldred rose from his throne, his imposing figure towering over her. "You forget your place, Mary. I do not ask—I command. And I command that you stay here, where you belong. You will not return to that kingdom. You will not throw your life away for a man who cannot protect you."
Mary stood as well, her hands trembling at her sides. "You cannot keep me here," she said, her voice shaking but resolute. "I will find a way to return to my husband, with or without your help."
The king's eyes darkened, his voice dropping to a dangerous tone. "Do not defy me, Mary. You are my daughter, and you will obey me."
Mary stared at him, her heart pounding. For a moment, she considered pushing further, but she knew it would be futile. Her father's mind was made up.
King Aldred's tone softened slightly, though his words remained firm. "I will not ignore their achievement. Capturing the Firelands beast is remarkable, yes. But it is not enough. The kingdom that seeks their destruction is far stronger, far more ruthless. Helping them would be suicide. Whatever happens there, you will remain here. That is my final word."
Mary turned away, her heart heavy with despair. She walked out of the grand hall, her father's words echoing in her mind. The doors closed behind her with a resounding thud, sealing her fate.
As she returned to her chambers, she gazed out the window at the vast expanse of her homeland. The sun was setting, casting the land in a warm, golden light. But to Mary, the beauty of the scene was lost. Her thoughts were consumed by Edward, by solara, by the people she had come to care.
She clenched her fists, her anger increasing. If her father would not help, she would find another way. She would not abandon Edward, her beloved husband.