The kingdom held its breath.
Storm clouds lingered over the capital like a silent omen, heavy and unmoving. The palace corridors trembled with frantic footsteps, hushed commands, whispered prayers.
Because the Queen was in labour.
Far beyond royal walls…
Merideth was too.
In her grand estate, silk curtains swayed softly as servants rushed in quiet urgency. Physicians moved swiftly. Maids whispered encouragement.
Two women.
Two births.
Two fates unfolding beneath the same sky.
Hours bled into eternity.
Pain echoed through chambers.
Hope trembled.
Destiny watched.
Then—
A cry pierced the palace air.
A child's cry.
Clear.
Alive.
Beautiful.
"It's a girl!"
Relief crashed through the room like sunlight breaking storm clouds.
The King staggered forward, breath unsteady, heart racing violently as the physicians carefully placed the newborn into Ophelia's trembling arms.
And for a moment—
Time stopped.
She was perfect.
Skin pale like freshly fallen snow.
Soft.
Radiant.
Untouched by cruelty.
The child looked…
Exactly like Ophelia.
The same delicate features.
The same gentle serenity.
The same fragile, breathtaking beauty.
Tears filled Ophelia's eyes instantly.
"My daughter…"
Her fingers trembled as they brushed against the infant's cheek.
Warm.
Soft.
Alive.
But something was wrong.
The baby did not react.
Did not blink.
Did not follow light.
Silence crept into the room.
Heavy.
Unwelcome.
Terrifying.
The physicians exchanged glances.
Uneasy.
Careful.
Fearful.
"Your Majesty…"
The whisper was fragile.
"…the child…"
A pause.
Too long.
Too dreadful.
"…she cannot see."
The world tilted.
The King's breath shattered.
The maids froze.
The air itself seemed to collapse.
Blind.
Cruel fate's newest victim.
But Ophelia…
Ophelia only smiled.
A tear slipped gently down her cheek.
Not of despair.
But something softer.
Something heartbreakingly pure.
"…My beautiful girl…"
She pulled the child closer.
Cradling her with trembling tenderness.
As though sight itself was meaningless beside love.
And then—
Ophelia saw her daughter smile.
A small, fragile, innocent smile.
Unaware of tragedy.
Unaware of loss.
Unaware of the storm destiny had already written.
Another tear fell.
Soft.
Quiet.
Final.
"…You are perfect."
Her voice barely existed now.
Fading.
Fragile.
Like a candle fighting inevitable darkness.
"Ophelia?"
The King's voice cracked violently.
Fear surging like wildfire.
But Ophelia's gaze had softened.
Distant.
Peaceful.
Unbearably gentle.
"…Take care of her…"
A whisper.
"…for me…"
And before terror could fully take shape—
Before grief could even scream—
Ophelia's strength vanished.
Her hand slipped.
Her breathing stilled.
Her warmth faded.
"…Ophelia?"
Silence answered.
Cold.
Absolute.
Unforgiving.
And somewhere far away—
Another cry echoed.
Merideth's child had arrived.
A girl.
Healthy.
Radiant.
Perfectly sighted.
Celebration bloomed within her estate.
Joy.
Laughter.
Triumph wrapped in silk and innocence.
But in the palace—
Grief detonated.
The Queen was dead.
Black banners draped golden walls.
Bells tolled like breaking hearts.
The kingdom wept as though the sun itself had fallen from the sky.
Because Ophelia had not merely been a Queen.
She had been beloved.
And far away—
Beyond mourning.
Beyond palace walls.
Beyond war-scorched lands—
The news reached Selara.
The letter trembled violently in her hands.
Eyes scanning.
Breath collapsing.
Soul shattering.
No.
"No…"
The whisper cracked into nothing.
Because Ophelia…
Her Ophelia…
Her sister…
Her last fragile anchor to warmth…
Was gone.
The world blurred.
Sound vanished.
Reality fractured beyond repair.
For years—
Selara had endured darkness.
Loss.
Endless war.
Unbearable grief.
But through it all…
There had been one thing.
One fragile thread holding her to sanity.
Letters.
Ophelia's letters.
Soft words.
Gentle warmth.
Memories of laughter, gardens, childhood sunsets.
Hope woven in ink.
Selara's fingers tightened violently.
Tears falling without restraint.
Without dignity.
Without control.
Because now—
That final thread snapped.
And when hope breaks…
Even warriors fall.
Selara collapsed to her knees.
Letter slipping from trembling hands.
A scream tearing from her chest — raw, broken, utterly destroyed.
Everything she had lost…
Everything she had endured…
Everything she had survived…
Suddenly meant nothing.
Because Ophelia was gone.
And with her—
Vanished the last light Selara had ever known.