— Something Like a Memory
The palace at night.
Not a celebration.
No noise.
No music.
The silence here is not comfort.
It is pressure.
A private hall in the inner wing.
High walls painted in a dark shade that absorbs light rather than reflects it.
Heavy curtains conceal the windows, though the night outside is complete.
A massive fireplace dominates the front wall—far larger than the one in Thorn's home…
Yet its fire is weaker.
The flame steady, restrained, as if merely fulfilling a duty.
The King stands before a painting.
It is not a portrait that boasts crowns or power.
A woman with calm features.
Neither smiling nor frowning.
Eyes steady. Unflinching.
He does not step too close.
He does not touch it.
His hands rest behind his back.
His fingers interlocked with faint pressure—the kind that appears only when a man is trying to restrain a thought.
The distant echo of a servant's footsteps passes through the corridor.
Then silence returns.
"Strange…"
The whisper escapes him unintentionally.
He takes half a step forward.
"Why did she seem familiar?"
Silence.
He looks directly into the painted eyes.
A memory flashes.
The dinner hall.
Candles lit.
Voices low.
Sylis standing before him.
Her back straight.
She had not bowed more than protocol required.
She had not lowered her gaze for long.
She had not searched for escape.
"She didn't tremble."
He says it now as if it were an accusation.
His finger trails lightly along the wooden frame.
"Even you… you never trembled."
Silence.
He looks again into the painted eyes.
"She has your eyes."
He freezes for a moment.
His jaw tightens.
"This is ridiculous."
He turns sharply and begins to walk slowly across the hall.
But the thought does not leave him.
Not only her beauty.
Not only her composure.
But that feeling…
She did not see him as a king.
She saw him as a man.
And that… unsettled him.
He stops before the window.
The gardens below are dark.
The trees still.
"And her husband…"
His voice lowers.
He remembers Thorn's gaze.
It was not submission.
Not fear.
Not even open hostility.
It was… awareness.
A faint smile, barely visible.
"So… you know."
Silence.
Then, more slowly:
"That makes it far more interesting."
---
— The Bedroom
Shortly after the physician's departure.
The room is quieter than it should be.
Evening light slips past the heavy curtains, pale and gray.
Sylis stands near the bed, her hands unconsciously clasped together.
Thorn stands by the window, his back half-turned to her.
The silence between them is not exhaustion.
Not ordinary calm.
It is the kind of silence that waits.
"Thorn…"
No answer.
She steps closer.
"My dear… is something troubling you?"
No response.
"Did I do something? Did I make a mistake?"
"Is it because I didn't tell you? I wasn't even certain myself."
His shoulders remain tense.
His jaw rigid.
He does not shout.
He does not rage.
And that is worse.
Her voice rises slightly without intending to:
"I can't read your thoughts, Thorn! I cannot understand what is happening if you don't speak to me!"
Silence.
She turns away in frustration.
"I feel like I'm in a game whose rules I don't know… like I'm reading a book in a language I don't understand… you— you confuse me."
The word escapes before she can stop it.
"You?"
His voice is low.
Cold.
She freezes.
Slowly turns.
"I didn't mean—"
He steps closer.
"You?"
Another step.
"Me… and who?"
She retreats.
The edge of the bed stops her.
She loses her balance slightly and braces herself, half seated.
He is in front of her now.
Very close.
"Sylis."
His voice lower.
"Who confuses you other than me?"
A memory leaps forward.
A garden.
White roses.
Spring air.
"I cannot be with you."
She had said it once.
"Why?"
"Because you unsettle me… your presence steals my calm."
Her face had flushed.
She had fled.
In the present…
A small, warm smile touches her lips without her noticing.
But when she meets his eyes now—
She sees something else.
Jealousy.
A small wound.
Childlike… yet sincere.
His hand slides to her waist.
Not violently.
But with unmistakable possession.
"Have I become the last to know what is happening in my wife's body?"
There it is.
Not anger.
Jealousy.
He wanted to be the first to notice.
The first to know.
The first to be told.
"I wasn't certain…"
His gaze drops briefly to her abdomen.
Then returns to her face.
"I wanted it to be me."
His voice softer now.
Honest.
He leans forward and kisses her forehead gently.
"You are at the threshold of a new stage… so rest, my dear."
A faint sideways smile.
"And it seems there are still things you have not told me."
He steps back.
Walks toward the door.
Stops there.
Turns to look at her.
The visible anger has faded.
Something deeper remains.
"When you are ready… tell me."
A pause.
"Can you be ready tonight?"
And he leaves.
Sylis remains where she is.
Her hand slowly rises to her abdomen.
"Ready… for what?"
---
— Beyond the Pulse
The King's office.
Not the hall with the painting.
A different room.
Smaller.
Narrower.
More private.
Bookshelves stretch to the ceiling.
Maps hang along the side wall.
A massive dark wooden desk stands at the center, a single tall candle flickering upon it.
The King is seated this time.
Not relaxed.
His elbow rests on the desk.
His fingers interlocked before his mouth.
Marrow stands beside him, hands behind his back, silent as ever.
The door opens.
The physician enters.
He bows.
"Your Majesty."
The King does not invite him to sit.
"Her condition."
One word.
The physician lifts his head slightly.
"There is nothing alarming… outwardly."
Silence.
The King's eyes rise toward him.
"Outwardly?"
"Fatigue is evident. Exhaustion as well. However…"
He hesitates.
The King does not blink.
"However?"
"There are early indicators… that may suggest the beginning of a pregnancy."
The silence grows heavier.
The King's fingers slowly loosen.
"Indicators?"
"Mild nausea. Dizziness. A delay… in certain natural matters."
The King looks toward the candle.
The flame shifts slowly.
"Is she certain?"
"No, Your Majesty. She appeared hesitant."
Then he adds:
"Her husband intervened more than once during my questions."
A faint smile crosses the King's lips.
"Of course he did."
He stands.
Walks slowly around the desk.
"Did he seem concerned?"
"He seemed… protective."
The King stops.
"Protective… or afraid?"
A pause.
"Both, Your Majesty."
Silence.
The King moves toward the window.
"And the child?"
The physician hesitates.
"A clever and diligent boy. Gentle, like children his age. He resembles his father… but he has his mother's eyes."
The King's gaze narrows slightly.
"He was pleased with the gifts you sent."
A brief pause.
"As I was leaving… Theo stopped me."
Marrow raises his head slightly.
"And?"
The physician smiles faintly.
"He asked me… 'Does His Majesty love children, sir?'"
The silence stretches.
The King does not smile.
"And what did you answer?"
"I told him that Your Majesty appreciates intelligent children."
Then, quietly:
"The boy is gentle… unlike his father, Your Majesty."
Something unreadable flickers in the King's eyes.
"You may go."
The physician bows and exits.
The door closes.
Marrow steps forward.
"What are you thinking, Your Majesty?"
The King does not answer immediately.
He watches the candle.
"Send another invitation."
"For the family?"
"No."
A short pause.
"For her."
Marrow lifts his gaze.
"Your Majesty… that may cause—"
"I did not ask for your opinion."
His tone is calm.
Final.
"I want to see with my own eyes."
He remembers her gaze.
Her steadiness.
Her lack of trembling.
"If she is carrying… I will know."
He reaches forward and extinguishes the candle with a small metal tool.
Shadows stretch across the room.
"…And if she is not…"
A faint sideways smile.
"I will make her tremble."
The flame dies.
The room sinks into half-darkness.
---
That night.
The bedroom.
The fireplace is dim.
Sylis sits at the edge of the bed, silent.
Thorn enters quietly.
He does not stand far this time.
He sits beside her.
Close… but he does not touch her immediately.
He looks at her.
Not in anger.
Not in softness either.
Something between.
Finally, he reaches out.
His fingers brush against her hand.
"Are you ready now?"
A simple question.
But neither of them knows…
Ready for what.
For the first time…
The question was not only about tonight.