As the final footsteps faded down the corridor, Prince Henry remained where he stood, unmoving. The silence that followed pressed against him, heavy and unfamiliar. He shut his eyes, just for a moment, only to steady himself, he told himself, but it was enough. The tears came anyway, slipping free without permission, warm against his skin. He did not wipe them away.
His thoughts tangled and collided, each more frightening than the last. A prince was raised to understand war, treaties, rebellion, men with swords and banners you could see coming. But this? A kingdom threatened by things without form, without warning. Devils that moved unseen. No tutor had prepared him for that. No scripture he'd read ever felt this close, this real.
He drew a slow breath and shook his head, as though the motion alone might scatter the nightmare. It didn't. The truth remained, sharp and immovable.
Helena.
The thought of his sister tightened something deep in his chest. She was all he had left that felt pure, untouched by politics and bargains made in shadows. And he would sooner watch the world burn than hand her over to Hell.
He left his study and moved quickly through the palace, his boots echoing against the stone he'd walked since childhood. Helena's chambers came into view far too soon.
Inside, he told her plainly that Colin would remain with her at all times. Her reaction was, of course, immediate.
"Have you lost your mind?" Helena demanded, her voice trembling as her eyes darted between her brother and the guard standing stiffly nearby.
Henry didn't flinch, "We don't know what we're dealing with," he said evenly, "If Scripture is true, and I believe it is, then they don't need doors or invitations. They could be listening right now. I won't gamble with your life."
"That doesn't give you the right!" she started.
"It does," Henry cut in, his tone sharper now, "I'm responsible for you. Colin stays. This is not up for debate."
Her face flushed, "I won't share my room with a man! I need privacy! To dress, to sleep, to..."
"I've thought of that too," Henry said, then turned slowly to Colin. His voice dropped, cold as steel, "You are here to guard my sister. Nothing more. If you so much as forget that for a moment, I will end you myself. You will not allow her to see anyone, not Mother, not Father, unless I give the order. Do you understand me?"
Colin swallowed but didn't hesitate, "I understand, Your Highness."
Only then did Henry look back at Helena. His expression softened, just slightly. He stepped closer, cupped her face in his hands as he had when they were children, and pressed a kiss to her forehead.
"I'm sorry," he whispered.
Then he was gone.
Helena stood frozen for a long moment before turning back to the window, her arms wrapping tightly around herself.
"What is he doing?" she murmured.
"Your Highness has summoned religious leaders from across the kingdom," Colin answered quietly, "All faiths. He wants them here before your birthday. And tomorrow… he intends to confront the devils."
She spun around, "He's what?"
"He plans to meet them."
Her breath caught, "Meet them? Has he lost all sense?"
"I don't know his intentions, Your Highness."
"Where?"
"In his study."
Her voice fell to a whisper, "Where is he going now?"
"I don't know."
Helena turned back to the window, her reflection pale in the darkening glass, "What are you planning, Henry…"
The rest of the day passed in a haze. She barely moved from her place by the window, watching shadows stretch across the palace grounds as the sun sank lower. When night finally claimed the sky, exhaustion pulled her toward the bed.
Sleep came slowly, reluctantly, bringing no comfort, only the quiet dread of what tomorrow might demand from them all.