A Royal Obligation -
Chapter 229: Mother’s Vigil
Chapter 229: Mother’s Vigil
Lucian gave Amarok’s shoulder a reassuring squeeze. "He’ll be okay," he said softly, though the flicker of doubt in his eyes didn’t go unnoticed.
Amarok pulled back, his worried gaze drifting once more to Kaelix’s back as he carried Eirik inside. "I hope so," he whispered, his voice barely audible.
The three of them fell into step behind the group, Amarok sticking close to his lovers. His young face, usually bright with enthusiasm, was etched with a worry that seemed too heavy for his years.
Meanwhile, Drystan lingered in the courtyard, his presence almost forgotten in the rush of emotions that surrounded Eirik’s return. The wind tugged at his cloak as he stood unmoving, his green eyes fixed on the palace doors that had closed behind the procession.
He adjusted the gauntlets on his hands, his fingers twitching as though considering whether to follow. But his boots remained rooted to the cobblestones. He was unsure of his place here, a shadow among royals and their kin. His duty had always been to Kaelix, yet now he felt like an outsider, his presence unnoticed and unneeded amidst the familial reunion.
Drystan’s thoughts were interrupted by the distant sound of a bell tolling from the city beyond the gates. He straightened his posture, his expression neutral, though his gaze remained on the palace doors. For now, he would wait, his role as Kaelix’s shadow undiminished by the grandeur of the moment.
Inside the palace, Kaelix followed Morgana through the grand hallways, his arms still holding Eirik securely. The light filtering through the stained-glass windows cast a kaleidoscope of colors across the marble floors, but none of the beauty registered in his mind. His focus was solely on the prince in his arms, his steps steady and measured.
Morgana glanced back at her son, her heart aching as she caught sight of his sleeping face once more. She led the way toward the royal chambers, her pace quickening as a renewed urgency filled her movements. Behind her, King Xavian, Theron, Amarok, and the twins followed in a somber line, the silence heavy with unspoken thoughts.
Queen Morgana led the group to Eirik’s old chambers.
The air in the room was cool and filled with a faint, familiar scent of lavender, a fragrance Eirik had always favored.
The chamber was exactly as he had left it: the soft silver and blue drapery, the neatly arranged shelves lined with books, and the small collection of trinkets he had treasured over the years.
A large moonstone rested on the bedside table, catching the faint light filtering through the embroidered curtains.
Kaelix barely glanced at the surroundings as he carried Eirik to the bed. His focus was entirely on the fragile figure in his arms. The bed, a grand four-poster with intricately carved wood, seemed almost too vast for someone as diminished as Eirik had become. Kaelix lowered him with the utmost care, as though even the soft bedding might prove too much for his weary body.
Queen Morgana immediately stepped forward to help, her hands deftly pulling the soft blankets over Eirik’s form. She tucked him in with the gentle touch only a mother could provide, smoothing the fabric over his chest and brushing a strand of white hair away from his pale face.
The room fell silent as they all stood around the bed, their gazes fixed on Eirik. He looked so small, so vulnerable against the vast expanse of the bed. His chest rose and fell with shallow breaths, his face as peaceful as it had been during the journey, though the faint lines of exhaustion and pain remained etched into his features.
Morgana sat on the edge of the bed, her hand resting lightly on her son’s blanketed arm. Her purple eyes glistened, her composure threatening to falter as she watched him sleep. She had waited for this moment, prayed for it, but seeing Eirik in this state broke something inside her.
Theron stood near the window, his broad shoulders tense as he crossed his arms over his chest. He avoided looking directly at Eirik for too long, as though the sight was too much to bear.
Amarok lingered by the door, his expression muted by concern. Even the twins, known for their teasing and lively personalities, were subdued, their identical features reflecting the weight of the moment.
Kaelix remained at the bedside, his dark eyes fixed on Eirik’s face. He bent down, brushing his lips gently against Eirik’s forehead. "Rest well," he murmured, his voice barely audible.
The tender gesture caused Eirik to stir faintly. His lips moved, forming incoherent words, but he didn’t wake. Kaelix lingered for a moment, his fingers brushing against Eirik’s hand before he finally straightened.
King Xavian’s voice broke the silence, calm but firm. "Let Morgana stay with him. The rest of us have important matters to discuss."
There was a pause before everyone began moving toward the door, their movements slow and reluctant. Kaelix hesitated, his gaze flicking between Eirik and the others. Morgana gave him a reassuring nod, her hand still resting on her son’s arm.
"Go," she said softly. "I’ll watch over him."
With a final glance, Kaelix turned and followed the others out of the room. The door clicked shut, leaving Morgana alone with her youngest son.
For a moment, she simply sat there, the silence in the room amplifying the sound of her own heartbeat. Her hand moved to cup Eirik’s cheek, her thumb tracing a gentle line along his pale skin.
"My sweet boy," she whispered, her voice trembling. "What have they done to you?"
Her fingers brushed against the dark circles under his eyes, her chest tightening as she took in the frailty of his features.
This was not the vibrant, mischievous child she remembered, nor the strong young man who had left for Zephyros.
This was a shadow of her son, and the sight of him like this made her feel utterly powerless.
Tears spilled over as she leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to his temple. "I should have protected you," she murmured, her voice breaking. "I should have been there."
Her fingers curled into the blanket as she pulled it up to his chin, tucking him in as though it would shield him from all the pain he had endured. She sat there for what felt like hours, her gaze never leaving his face.
A part of her longed to hold him, to cradle him as she had when he was a child, but she was afraid of disturbing his rest. Instead, she contented herself with the quiet vigil, her hand never leaving his arm.
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