The cold, dry skin of her mother and father lay before her. Her eyes, dimmed with hopelessness, filled with tears as she sank to her knees, clutching their garments to her chest.
"No… please… I don't want this. Please wake up."
Her face turned desperately toward her mother. Inch by inch, she leaned closer, pressing a trembling kiss to her forehead with every ounce of strength left.
"Mum… I know you can hear me… Please… tell me you can."
Tears blurred her vision, spilling faster than she could wipe them away.
"I can't do this alone, Mum… I can't—"
Then something inside her snapped.
A cry tore from her throat, raw and broken, echoing through the mourning chamber. She lurched toward her father's body, shaking him roughly.
"Wake up, Dad! I haven't told you how my classes went today."
Her sobs grew heavier, drenching his linen shroud. She pressed herself against him, clinging desperately.
"I… I did my presentation. My professors—they were proud of me." Her voice hitched.
"You and Mum said you'd take some time off work to spend time with me… Please… tell me you're just sleeping. I can't do this alone. I…"
From behind, Maxwell moved silently, gathering her into his arms. He held her while her grief, fierce and unrestrained, spilled free.
"You aren't alone, my lady," he whispered, steady against her trembling. "I will always be here."
Kayona turned from her father and collapsed against him, sobbing freely now. Her cries echoed through the same walls that had once held her parents' final breaths. Every heartbeat, every shudder, carried the weight of a sixteen-year-old girl left too soon in the world, unwilling yet to face what awaited her.
***
Two days after the burial of the Archduke and Archduchess, the Obregón estate was heavy with mourning. The silence broke when an esteemed member of the imperial council invited himself inside.
At the center of the visitors' room—
"You cannot be serious about this, High Priest!" Anita cried, rising from her seat. "She's just a child!"
"Anita is not wrong, High Priest. The Archduke and Archduchess only just passed three days ago. Our lady is still mourning—recovering—from the incident! She is in no state to begin her role as Archduchess." Rael's voice was firm.
Before them sat Hemilio, High Priest of Maelithor, Valchevia's capital. Behind him, three escorts stood in silence. The gray-haired priest grinned, the twitch of his eyes betraying amusement.
"It is not the imperial council's fault, Baroness," he said too smoothly. "The Archduke and Archduchess left duties and responsibilities that must be fulfilled."
Anita's lips curled with disgust; Maxwell's jaw tightened.
"Our lady will not inherit obligations until she is mentally and physically ready," Maxwell said from behind them.
The priest turned his gaze on him, mocking.
"You have no say in this, young guard. The baroness and the butler may speak—they served the late Archduke and Archduchess for years. But you? You are a mere bodyguard to the heir of Obregón. What gives you the right to interfere? Do you truly hate keeping your life?"
Maxwell scoffed. "That question should be asked of you, High Priest Hemilio. Disrespecting the heir of one of the founding houses of Valchevia has its own consequences. My loyalty does not lie with you—but with House Obregón."
Rael and Anita both nodded firmly, standing with him. The High Priest only laughed.
"How loyal. Yet the imperial council owes loyalty to no one but the law. Rules are rules."
"Impartial indeed," Anita muttered bitterly.
"You and I both know that not even a founding house may counter those rules," Hemilio continued smoothly. "Obregón oversees Valchevia's international trade and foreign diplomacy. To stall these duties over personal matters would harm the Empire itself."
Anita snapped. "And should the Empire not be more concerned with finding those responsible for the Archduke and Archduchess's murders?!"
Hemilio rose, brushing her words aside.
"My work here is done. You have four days to transfer the work and title to her. Otherwise, the imperial council will appoint an outsider to inherit, in accordance with Act III of the imperial constitution."
He departed with his escorts, leaving the room thick with silence. Anita and Rael sat stricken, while Maxwell lashed out and kicked over a stool in frustration.
***
Two weeks after the Archduke and Archduchess's deaths, Kayona had begun her role as Archduchess of Obregón.
In her new office, Anita stood at her side as lady-in-waiting and assistant, while Maxwell took his post behind her.
"We have notified Maelithor Academy of your withdrawal, Your Grace," Anita reported. "And I have secured a private tutor to help you complete the two years remaining of your education."
"Understood," Kayona murmured without looking up, quill moving across her ledgers. "What else is on my schedule today?"
Anita lifted the parchment in her hand, scanning quickly.
"You're required to visit and inspect the sites where the new ships of Valchevia's eastern territory are being constructed," she read.
"The eastern territory is closest to Obregón, so it's still possible to carry out today," Kayona said, her tone steady though her gaze lingered on the papers before her. "That's the last task for today, right?"
"Yes, Your Grace," Anita nodded.
"Good. Tell Rael to inform the guards to prepare our cars. I am almost done here, so we'll be leaving soon."
"Of course, Your Grace." Anita bowed before exiting.
***
The next day…
The evening sunset bled over the Obregón mansion, casting its walls in soft amber. Within the halls, whispers of servants carried like threads of unease.
"I am concerned for the Archduchess' health and well-being," one maid murmured. "She forbade anyone from moving the belongings in the late Archduke and Archduchess' chambers."
"Yes, though she allows us to clean and dust," another added. "Her visits there have only become more constant since they passed."
"It has become her ritual," the first said gravely. "But worse—she's thinner than ever. She hardly eats."
The third maid lowered her voice. "It's gotten so bad that Baroness Anita kneels and pleads with her just to take a few bites."
"A few bites in an entire day…" the second whispered. "She can't go on like this."
Maxwell's steps didn't falter. He ignored their hushed voices and pressed forward until he reached the doors of Kayona's office.
They creaked open to reveal the Archduchess slumped over her desk, asleep amid scattered papers. A pen still rested loosely in her hand, her face partly hidden by strands of silver curls.
Silently, Maxwell crossed the room. He eased the pen from her fingers, then gently gathered her into his arms.
Her lashes fluttered. In a drowsy murmur, she breathed, "Max… is it you?"
"Yes," he answered softly. "I'm taking you to your room, Your Grace. You need rest."
After Maxwell laid her in bed and left her to rest, Kayona woke in the middle of the night—and did the unthinkable.