The wind toyed with strands of her hair, whipping them across her face and blurring her vision slightly. Yet her eyes remained fixed on her son as if nothing else in the world existed.
Selena was seated beside Ragaleon's sickbed in the quiet of the night, her fingers entwined in his, as she watched his chest rise and fall with each shallow breath.
"You have done everything… everything you can?"
She directed the question to the grandmaester standing behind her, his head bowed in silence.
"Everything within my resources, Your Grace," he answered, and her chest constricted at his words.
She missed him, everything he was, and everything he had yet to become.
"My only son…"
Her eyes dulled as the words left her lips.
First, it had been her daughter, struck by an illness so severe that she had been forced to secure her marriage to the Sea Prince to ensure her survival. And now her son lay before her, lingering on the edge between life and whatever waited beyond.
"I am sorry… truly," the grandmaester said, a note of helplessness in his voice.
"It is not your fault," she replied, her gaze never leaving him.
"It is simply fate, playing its usual cruel game. But trying to take my son away from me…is truly the height of it."
Her voice was coarse as she threaded her hand through his numb fingers, hoping to provide some warmth.
"Leave….leave us be," she said quietly.
"I would like to spend what time remains with my son… alone."
The grand maester slowly raised his gaze and looked upon his king.
He had tried; he truly had done everything within his power. Day after day, he had attempted to uncover Micah's herbal tea recipe, but all had been to no avail.
Just by looking at Ragaleon, he knew that if the night passed, he would not survive.
Instead, the dawn of the next day will be welcomed with outcries that will forever leave scars.
Ragaleaon's face had already begun to lose color, his feet were turning cold, and his hair was streaked with grey… Death seemed to be knocking at the door.
But that was the last thing the grandmaster was willing to allow.
"There is one, skilled in medicine like no other, of whom I was recently made aware. Her herbal teas have proven potent."
He started catching Selena's attention.
"If you permit, I would like to call upon Queen Micah."
Selena's eyes glowed with a cold, dangerous light.
"That wretched girl?" she asked, disbelief in her voice.
"No… not wretched," he replied, his head bowed.
"Skilled in ways that seem to surpass even me. I believe she can save your son."
Selena allowed his words to settle, the silence stretching on for what seemed like hours. Finally, she disentangled her hand from her son's and rose to her feet, resolute.
"Guards!"
She called out as she brushed past the grandmaster.
A guard stepped in at once.
"Watch over my son. Do not allow a single soul to enter; do not let anyone so much as lay a hand on him. If anything happens to him… anything at all, I will have you hanged, and your wife and children I will have as my slaves."
Her words were ruthless…savage, but even at that she was just a mother.
"You," she said, turning back to the grandmaster. "Come with me."
As Selena now swept through the castle's long corridors, fire sticks lighting her path, the grandmaster hurrying behind her, her face looked distorted.
"You should have said something sooner," she scolded, her steps quick and unrelenting.
"I thought it was nothing—mere rumors," he replied.
"Most rumors in this castle are true!" she snapped, turning sharply into another hallway.
"This is my son we are speaking of. You should have known better." She scowled.
The grandmaster trailed behind, humbled by her words, his old frame almost swallowed by the oversized robe he always wore.
When at last she stopped, Selena stood before Micah's chamber.
A knight was at the door.
It was Sir Lamech, Micah's personal protector.
He bowed in courtesy when he caught sight of Selena.
"She is still alive in there, is she not?" Selena asked, quietly uncertain.
"Yes, Your Grace," he replied precisely, failing to provide any more information.
Micah had been locked away for three days, thrown into her chamber as if she were a dog that bites.
Since then, she had been shut out from the world. The only time she heard a voice was when her maid brought her food, only to leave immediately, the door shutting sharply behind her.
Selena inhaled sharply, steadying herself.
"Wait here," she said to the grandmaester, her voice firm, before stepping into the chamber.
Micah's room was dark; not even the fireplace had been lit to offer warmth.
The chamber was cold, and wind seeped in from the open windows, carrying the night breeze across the room.
The curtains swayed gently, rising and falling as if breathing with the wind, giving the space an almost enchanted, otherworldly air.
There was a lone candle at the far end of the chamber. It flames dwindling at the slightest touch of the breeze.
Selena had to squint through the darkness before she noticed it.
The small flame cast a vague, inconspicuous shadow on the wall, a shadow that hinted at the presence of a woman, yet was barely defined, almost blending into the darkness.
Only after a moment of studying the shadow did Selena realize there was a figure seated at the reading table at the far end of the room.
The spine of the figure rested against the back of the chair, eyes fixed downward on a book held carefully in both hands.
"Micah?" Selena called, but there was no response.
Although the candle's light was small, its rays were just enough to catch on another ornate glass table across the room. Around it sat a set of chairs, and on the table lay various plates of untouched food.
She hadn't eaten.
That was the first thought that struck Selena when her eyes fell on the plates of untouched food.
She drew her gaze back to the figure seated in the chair across the room. For all she knew, it could be a ghost.
Micah might have been long dead, and that could be her corpse.
Just then, she saw the lean, fair fingers of the figure at the reading table flip a page.
The rest of the body remained perfectly still, as if frozen in the chair; only that single index finger moved.
Now Selena understood: the figure seated there was completely alive, yet seemed determined to shun her presence, as if deliberately ignoring the world beyond the book.
"You have earned the right to be angry at me," she began, lifting her leg slightly and stepping forward.
The eerie silence in the room was overwhelming.
"I have wronged you terribly, and for that no amount of sorry can make up for it, but indeed I am genuinely sorry."
Though her voice read remorse, her eyes told a different story.
She still received no reply from Micah, only silence.
But Selena was a patient woman.
Patience and perseverance had carried her far, and she was not about to be deterred now.
"He is dying."
Her voice broke, but she tried to shove back any emotions that would make her look weak.
"My son is dying… Your husband is dying… the king… is dying."
Her breath grew shallow as she spoke, a silent battle against the tears she had been holding back.
"There is no time… He has little time left on this earth before he is snatched away from me by the cold hands of death."
But you can save him. You can save this kingdom from a devastating blow. I know you can."
She sounded so sure.
Micah didn't say a word; if Selena could have had the chance to gaze into her eyes in that moment, she would have seen a broken woman.
A woman who has tried to escape the fate of ever being a queen in the first place but now finds herself confined to a chamber in which she has been locked up, reading a book for solace.
"I know you can hear me…"
Selena sniffed, pulling a handkerchief from inside her blouse. She dabbed at her eyes, struggling to keep her composure.
"Please… this is a mother asking you to save her son."
Micah's lean fingers flipped another page of the book.
"Are you even listening to me?"
Selena's voice rose, shattering the feline image she had fought so hard to maintain.
Why did it seem as though Micah could not hear a single word she said, even while seated right there before her?
Devastation closed in on her, devastated with fate, with the silence, and with a daughter-in-law who remained impossibly calm while her world threatened to fall apart.
But somehow, she found a way to get herself together. It was pointless talking to someone who would not even look at her.
Feeling helpless, she turned to leave, then paused after a few steps.
"You know…" she began, spinning back around, malice now seeping through her voice.
"I heard he saved you once."
She said, drawing closer, her feet light against the marbled floor, as she reached a lucid event, which now played in her mind as she talked.
"You had escaped from the castle walls, bent on seeking freedom. Venturing even to the most dangerous territories, he searched for you. Relentlessly, every day, he yearned to bring you back for reasons I still do not understand."
The pitch of her voice was slightly higher now.
"My son, the king of Decreash! Came back to the castle that night, after days of being out in the woods, drenched with water from the sea, because he had jumped in to rescue you."
At her words, something flickered in Micah's eyes.
Slowly, she lifted her gaze from the book, her eyes straining toward the dark sky outside the window, where millions of stars shone silently.
"I didn't believe it at first when I was told," Selena admitted, "but after questioning some of the knights who had accompanied him, I found out it was indeed true."
She paused, drifting closer until she was just a few steps away from the chair where Micah sat.
"I know you despise me now," she said calmly, "so much that you cannot even bring yourself to look at me. But do not let that stand between you and the duty you owe my son."
Her voice lowered as she went on.
"He saved you. You are indebted to him."
She continued without holding back, the words settling heavily between them.
"Pay that debt, Micah."
She said, turning to leave..
"Before it is too late."
Utterly disappointed, Selena took her leave, without looking back. Her eyes were glowing with mixed emotions.
She stepped out of the chamber with a swollen face, her eyes meeting the expectant gaze of the grandmaster.
"I shall be with my son. Let no one disturb me," she said, her wet lashes dropping.
Grandmaester Braven apparently understood the situation at hand. He looked at the closed door leading to the chamber and saw no sign of anyone coming out.
With a heavy heart he also turned to leave…"
"Your Grace…" came the hesitant voice of the knight, Sir Lamech.
Selena, who had walked a few steps away, halted.
"Did you not hear a word I said? I do not want to be disturbed," she snapped, but received no reply.
She turned fully, and what she saw left her stunned.
Sir Lamech had his head down, bowed in courtesy… not to her, but to a queen.
It was Micah.