Elara
The days following Aldric's confession were strangely heavy. I had thought that some form of lightness would settle after his words, but it was quite the opposite. He became more taciturn, more thoughtful. His gaze, often lost in the vastness of the kingdom he had promised to rebuild, seemed both filled with determination and silent anxiety. I knew he carried something far heavier than a mere crown. He had to rebuild himself as well, find an inner peace that still eluded him.
As for me, I was torn. On one hand, I felt a deep empathy for him, an understanding of his suffering and doubts. On the other, a growing fear was taking hold of me. We were bound in a way I had not anticipated. And I often wondered just how far my presence by his side could help him, and if, deep down, I wasn't as lost as he was in the maze of his past.
Then, one week after our conversation, a delegation of neighboring lords arrived at the castle. This was no mere matter of land redistribution; it was a true test for Aldric. They came to demand their share of the lands recently reclaimed by the king after the war, and some were already whispering that his position of power was no longer as solid as before. The shadow of the war, of his difficult choices, still lingered.
During the meeting, I made sure to stay in the background, observing the scene closely. This wasn't just a political debate; it was a pivotal moment for Aldric. His words were measured, less imperial than usual, as though he was acutely aware of the uncertainty in the air. There was a tremor in his voice every time he spoke of the dark moments of the war, as if by speaking, he was reliving the pain of his choices.
One lord, bolder than the rest, stepped forward. "Your Majesty, you claim that peace has been restored, but how many of your troops are still loyal? How many lords are still willing to support a king who has failed?"
The words struck Aldric like a blow. But he straightened up, his gaze sharper than ever, and responded in a firm voice. "I never claimed to be a perfect king. I made difficult choices to protect this kingdom. But I am not alone here. The kingdom belongs to all those who are willing to rebuild it with me."
The silence that followed was heavy. The lords exchanged looks, murmuring among themselves, but no consensus emerged. Far from being a victory, this response only rekindled tensions—not just political, but personal. It wasn't just his authority they were questioning, but himself, the person he had become after the war.
When the meeting ended, Aldric retreated to his chambers, his face marked by exhaustion. I had followed him quietly and now stood before his door. Hesitation swept through me for a moment, but my steps carried me inside.
"You spoke well," I said softly, keeping a respectful distance.
He turned to face me, and despite the fatigue weighing on his features, I saw a flicker of gratitude in his eyes. "It's not enough. Not yet."
I approached him slowly. "It's not just about what you say, Aldric. It's also about what you do. Actions will speak louder than words."
He stared at me, a faint smile forming on his lips. "You're right. But sometimes, it's hard to know where to start."
I sat down near him, not far from his chair, suddenly feeling a bit closer to him, as if an invisible bridge was being formed between us. "Maybe there is no perfect beginning. Maybe we just have to keep moving forward."
He lowered his eyes, lost in thought. "There's something I haven't said yet… something I'm not sure I can share. But it feels like no decision is really mine. Every choice I make brings me back to my past, and I don't know if I can truly detach from it."
I took a deep breath, searching for the right words. "You've faced trials that few people can understand. But it's not your past that defines you, Aldric. It's the actions you choose to take today and tomorrow. Maybe the path to peace begins with accepting who you were… so you can become who you want to be."