Seraphina entered the breakfast hall, rubbing the sleep from her eyes.
The servants had already laid out bread, fruits, and fresh pastries, the smell mingling with the faint scent of waxed floors.
Alina was moving between the tables, serving plates. Seraphina stopped, watching her for a moment.
"Alina," she said softly, holding out her hands.
"Let me take the bowl. You should rest."
Alina paused, tilting her head.
"Your Majesty?"
"You've done enough this morning,"
Seraphina said gently.
"Sit. Take a breath."
Alina's lips pressed into a line, then she handed the bowl over.
"As you wish."
Emric peeked at the exchange, his small face curious but quiet. Across the table, Elara's eyes were fixed on her plate, though Seraphina thought she caught the girl glancing up at her for a moment.
Darius leaned slightly toward King Alaric, as he spoke
"Mother and Father are coming. They wish to see Selene."
Alaric raised an eyebrow, glancing at Seraphina.
"We'll begin preparations tomorrow. The palace must be ready."
Seraphina nodded, but her stomach twisted slightly. She had met the king's parents before—she knew their pride, their sharp eyes, and how easily they could wound with a word.
The room settled into eating, the soft clatter of spoons and mugs filling the space.
A sudden knock drew attention. The heavy doors opened, and a guard entered, carrying a rolled scroll sealed with the royal insignia.
"My king," he said, bowing.
"A message has arrived from the neighboring kingdom."
Alaric reached for it immediately, breaking the seal with careful fingers. His eyes scanned the parchment quickly, and a frown pulled at his brow. He rolled the scroll back up and handed it to the guard.
"See that this is passed to the council," Alaric said.
"Tell them we will meet again this noon."
The guard nodded and stepped away. The hall fell quiet, the unease lingering like a shadow over the breakfast table.
Seraphina's hands rested on her lap. Her eyes followed the retreating guard, thinking of what the scroll might contain.
Nearby, Lady Mirelle leaned in, her voice low and kind.
"Your Majesty, are you going to see the healer today?"
"Yes," Seraphina replied, her voice soft.
"I could accompany you, if you wish," Mirelle offered.
Seraphina looked up, relief flickering across her face.
"I would appreciate that. Thank you."
Mirelle inclined her head, a small, reassuring smile on her lips. She did not ask further, and neither did Seraphina say more.
As the queen took her seat back at the table for a moment, her thoughts drifted to the scroll, the words sealed within it. Something about it unsettled her, though she did not know why.
Messages rarely arrived without purpose.
Kingdoms did not write simply to greet one another.
Letters meant trade.
Alliances.
Disputes.
War.
Or something else entirely.
She lowered her eyes to her plate, though her thoughts were far away.
Alina noticed. She leaned slightly toward the table.
"Interesting timing," she murmured. Darius frowned.
"Timing for what?"
Alina lifted her cup calmly.
"Oh, nothing," she said.
But her eyes moved toward the queen.
Seraphina felt the familiar weight again.The pressure that lived within the castle walls.
No one spoke of it openly. Not in the great hall. Not at the table.
But the court watched her. They counted the years. They counted the attempts. They counted the empty space where a royal child should have been.
Sometimes she would enter a room and conversations would stop. Sometimes she would hear whispers through corridors.
Sometimes the pity in people's eyes was worse than their judgment. She kept her posture straight.
A queen did not show weakness.
But the thought always returned.
No matter how much she tried to ignore it.
The court had a word they used when speaking among themselves.
A word they never said to her face.
A word that followed her through the halls of Valdoria like a shadow.
"Her barrenness."