A Royal Obligation
Chapter 149: There’s A Cure

Chapter 149: There’s A Cure

The king sat at the edge of the queen’s bed, his hand trembling as he held hers, his face worn and pale.

Three agonizing weeks had passed since his wife collapsed, and today, the healers had finally gathered enough information to diagnose her illness. His heart raced with a mixture of hope and dread as the healers stood before him.

They shifted nervously, exchanging anxious glances, their bodies tense as though they feared what was to come.

The chief healer, a stooped man named Balthor, took a small step forward, his voice low and careful. "Your Majesty, we have identified the nature of the queen’s ailment. It is... it is a rare illness known as ’Nyrax Syndrome.’"

The king blinked, the name unfamiliar to him. "Nyrax Syndrome?" he echoed, sitting up straighter. "What is that? Can it be treated?"

Balthor hesitated, his eyes dropping to the floor. He could feel the weight of the king’s gaze, heavy and expectant.

"It is a wasting disease, Your Majesty," he began. "It weakens the body’s vital energy over time. Slowly, it drains the life force of the afflicted, leaving them in a state of unconsciousness until... until their body can no longer sustain itself."

The room seemed to darken with those words, the firelight flickering in the corners. The king’s heart, which had fluttered with hope just moments ago, plummeted.

"But... but you’ve identified it," he stammered, trying to cling to some shred of optimism.

"Surely, there’s something that can be done. Medicines, treatments, anything. When will she wake up?"

Balthor shifted uneasily, glancing at the other healers for support, but none could meet the king’s eyes. "Your Majesty..." He paused, swallowing hard. "There is no known cure."

The king froze. The words hit him like a blow to the chest. He stared at Balthor, refusing to process what he’d just heard. "No..." he whispered, shaking his head as if to dispel the nightmare. "That can’t be right. You must be mistaken. There must be a cure."

Balthor’s face twisted in sorrow, his hands shaking as he spoke again. "I’m afraid... there is no mistake, Your Majesty. Nyrax Syndrome... will continue to consume the queen’s life force until... until she ceases to breathe."

The king’s lips parted, but no words came out. His hand clenched around his wife’s, his breath shallow and ragged. The healers could see the devastation washing over him like a tidal wave, and they fell to their knees in fear, bowing their heads low.

"We have failed you, Your Majesty," Balthor said, his voice cracking with desperation. "We beg your forgiveness."

The king’s eyes filled with tears as he bent over the queen, his free hand covering his face. He didn’t want to cry in front of them, but the weight was unbearable.

His shoulders shook with silent sobs, the pain of knowing that the woman he had loved for so long, the woman who had been his anchor, his partner in everything, was slipping away, and there was nothing he could do to stop it.

"I just... I just want her back," he whispered, his voice raw. "I want her to wake up, to scold me for working too hard, to laugh with me over something trivial... I just want her to nag me again."

The room was thick with tension and grief, the healers trembling as they awaited the king’s reaction.

They had given their all, but it had not been enough. The king’s sorrow was a knife to their hearts, a reminder of their failure.

At that moment, the door opened quietly, and Kaelix and Eirik entered the room.

They had come to check on the queen, as they did every day, hoping for some sign of improvement.

But what they walked into was not the usual somber scene of quiet watchfulness. The king was weeping at his wife’s side, and the healers were on their knees, their heads bowed.

Kaelix’s heart skipped a beat, dread gripping him instantly. He rushed to his mother’s bedside, fear choking him. "Mother!" he gasped, dropping to his knees beside the bed. Eirik was close behind, his eyes wide with alarm.

Kaelix’s trembling hands hovered over his mother’s face before he pressed two fingers to her neck, checking for a pulse. His breath hitched in relief when he felt the faint thrum of life beneath her skin.

"She’s... she’s still breathing," he muttered, though the fear didn’t leave him. He turned to his father, confusion and desperation written all over his face.

"Father, what’s happening? Why are they all acting like she’s... like she’s already gone?"

Eirik knelt beside Kaelix, his hand resting on his husband’s back, his eyes darting between the king and the kneeling healers. He could feel the tension in the room, the suffocating despair.

The king wiped his tears, struggling to find the words. His voice was thick, barely more than a whisper. "They... they said she’s not going to wake up," he said, his hands shaking as he gestured to the healers. "They said there’s no cure. We should... prepare for her death."

Kaelix’s world tilted. His knees buckled, and he slumped against the side of the bed, staring at his father in disbelief.

"No... no, that can’t be," he whispered, his voice trembling. "That can’t be right! There has to be something they can do!" Tears streamed down his face, his body shaking with the weight of it all. "No... no... please, no..."

Eirik, stunned into silence for a moment, finally moved. He pulled Kaelix into his arms, standing and pressing Kaelix’s head against his stomach as he held him tightly.

"Shh... I’m here," Eirik murmured, his voice soft but firm, trying to provide some comfort as Kaelix sobbed against him. He stroked his husband’s hair, his own heart heavy with sorrow.

The healers were still kneeling, bowing deeply as they begged for forgiveness. They had failed to save their queen, and now the entire royal family was suffering because of it.

But as Eirik stood there, holding Kaelix and looking down at the queen’s still form, something stirred in his memory.

The way the healers had described Nyrax Syndrome... it seemed oddly familiar. He frowned, his mind racing as he tried to piece it together.

"Wait," Eirik said suddenly, his voice cutting through the tense silence. He pulled back from Kaelix slightly, though he kept one hand on his husband’s shoulder. "I think... I’ve heard of this illness before."

The healers exchanged surprised glances, one of them daring to lift his head slightly. "You have, Your Highness?"

Eirik nodded, his thoughts moving quickly now. "Yes. In my home kingdom, Valeidio. There was an illness that sounds very much like this... it left people unconscious for months, draining their life force until they eventually died. It was devastating... until they found a cure."

The healers gasped, and the king looked up sharply, his tear-streaked face suddenly filled with hope. "A cure? There’s a cure?"

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