Chapter 12- A King's Burden
1502 Words
The throne chamber of Celestia was a cathedral of authority—its marble pillars rising like frozen lightning, its stained-glass windows capturing fragments of moonlight and casting them in faint, scattered colors across the polished floor. Yet tonight, the chamber felt far colder than stone, far darker than night.
Prince—now King—Delvin of Avernal stood before the towering doors, heart thundering against his ribs. The guards pushed the great doors open, and the moment he stepped inside, the weight of expectation pressed down like a suffocating hand.
King Alden sat upon the throne, his expression unreadable beneath the heavy crown of Celestia. Around him, the High Council gathered in solemn silence, their faces stern, their gazes sharp enough to pierce armor.
The air trembled with tension as Delvin approached the center of the chamber.
“Your Majesty,” a councilman announced, “the king awaits your final answer.”
King Alden’s eyes—cold, calculating, ancient with experience—locked on Delvin.
“Have you come with clarity, boy?” His voice echoed through the hall like the rumble of a storm. “Or are you still lost in childish fantasies?”
Delvin bowed, though a shard of defiance flickered in his gaze. “I have come with my answer.”
A murmur swept through the council.
King Alden leaned back, clasping his hands. “Then speak.”
Delvin drew a slow breath, his chest trembling. For one fleeting moment, Violet’s face flashed before his mind—her trembling hands, her whispered pleas, her soft confession of love beneath the moonlight.
He swallowed the ache threatening to choke him.
“My father’s final wish,” Delvin began, voice steady despite the storm inside him, “was for Avernal to survive. He believed an alliance with Celestia was the only path.”
Alden’s gaze sharpened.
“And so?” he pressed.
Delvin forced the words out—each one cutting into him like a blade.
“And so… I will honor him.
I will marry Princess Elara.”
Silence.
Stillness.
A hush so complete it was as though the entire kingdom had stopped breathing.
Then—
A councilman exhaled in relief.
Another murmured a prayer of gratitude.
King Alden’s eyes gleamed with satisfied triumph.
“You have chosen wisely,” he said with a heavy nod. “Your father raised you to understand duty. He would be proud.”
Delvin forced his chin up, though agony twisted in his chest.
“It is not wisdom,” he said quietly. “Only necessity.”
Alden waved a dismissive hand. “Call it what you will. What matters is that you understand the weight of a crown.”
Delvin said nothing.
Because if he tried to speak, he feared the truth—the raw, bleeding truth—would burst from him:
That he had just condemned his own heart.
---
The king rose from the throne, descending the marble steps until he stood only a few breaths away from Delvin.
“You have secured your future,” Alden said. “Your kingdom will flourish with Celestia at its side.”
Delvin clenched his fists. “I have secured Avernal’s safety. But not my own happiness.”
Alden’s gaze was unyielding. “Happiness is a luxury for men without crowns.”
Delvin’s jaw tightened.
“You speak as though you’ve never wanted something for yourself,” Delvin replied.
A glimmer of something passed through the king’s eyes—regret, perhaps, or an old wound buried so deep even he had forgotten it existed.
“That is precisely why I speak so bluntly,” Alden murmured. “Because I know the cost.”
Delvin said nothing. His silence was bitter and heavy.
Alden stepped closer, his voice lowering.
“You gave me your father’s answer tonight. But tell me this, Delvin—was it truly your own?”
The question struck straight into Delvin’s gut.
He didn’t answer.
He couldn’t.
Because he knew, deep inside, that his decision was not born from desire or ambition…
But sacrifice.
The same sacrifice his father had made, and his father before him.
The sacrifice every king made.
Alden studied his silence with a knowing smirk.
“Love blinds,” he said simply. “Kings do not afford blindness.”
Delvin’s chest tightened.
Love.
The word stabbed him.
Violet’s tear-streaked face flashed again.
Her trembling whisper:
‘You must do what is right.’
Her shattered voice:
‘Marry the princess… I will be fine.’
A lie he had recognized instantly.
Alden continued, oblivious—or indifferent—to Delvin’s spiraling thoughts.
“Preparations begin at dawn,” the king declared. “The royal engagement will be announced publicly within the week. You will meet with Princess Elara tomorrow to begin formal courtesies.”
Delvin stiffened—not from fear, but from a guilt so deep it hollowed him out.
Elara.
The girl he did not love.
The girl whose disappearance earlier had thrown the palace into chaos.
Where was she now?
Was she safe?
Was she running from him, just as he longed to run from this fate?
Alden clapped his hands.
The council nodded approvingly.
Avernal was saved.
Celestia was secured.
Diplomacy had won.
And Delvin’s heart had lost.
---
When the chamber emptied and only the two kings remained, Delvin turned to leave.
But King Alden spoke once more, voice sharp as a dagger.
“One more thing.”
Delvin paused.
“You will end whatever… entanglement you have with that maid.”
Delvin froze, blood turning to ice.
Alden continued, voice cold and utterly certain.
“There will be no rumors. No distractions. No weakness. Celestia’s future queen will not be disrespected.”
Delvin’s teeth clenched, breath tightening with fury. “Violet has never dishonored anyone.”
“Not intentionally,” Alden acknowledged. “But scandal does not wait for intention.”
Delvin’s fists trembled. “Violet is an innocent woman.”
“She is a threat to your focus,” Alden snapped. “And therefore a danger to both kingdoms.”
Delvin felt something inside him snap.
“She is not a danger,” Delvin growled. “She is—”
But he cut himself off.
He could not speak her name like this.
Not in front of Alden.
Not in this cold, merciless hall.
Alden’s eyes narrowed.
“She is nothing,” the king said flatly. “And she must remain nothing.”
Delvin’s heart ignited with a sudden, ferocious anger. “Say that again.”
Alden did not flinch. “If she becomes more than nothing—if she remains in your orbit—she will destroy everything your father died to secure.”
Delvin felt the world spin.
Alden’s gaze hardened.
“You will not see her again.”
Delvin stopped breathing.
“You will not speak to her again.”
His vision blurred at the edges.
“And you will forget her,” Alden finished, “if you truly care about your kingdom.”
Delvin stood paralyzed.
A king was commanding him.
A ruler was warning him.
A father was testing him.
But a man—Delvin the man—was breaking apart inside.
He could not obey.
But he also could not refuse.
Not without consequences that would ripple into war.
Alden straightened his cloak, satisfied.
“Do we understand each other?”
Delvin forced in a breath that felt like swallowing shards.
“…Yes,” he whispered.
But it wasn’t agreement.
It was surrender.
Alden nodded. “Good. Then may dawn bring clarity.”
The king exited through a side passage, leaving Delvin alone in the vast hall.
The silence crushed him.
His legs felt weak.
His chest throbbed with raw, suffocating pain.
His breath trembled as if something essential inside him had shattered.
He had made his decision.
He had secured the alliance.
He had chosen duty over love.
But as he stood alone in the cold, moonlit chamber, one truth echoed louder than the rest, ringing through him like a bell struck too hard:
He had never felt less like a king.
And never more like a man drowning.
---
Delvin turned toward the doors, ready to face the night, to find whatever strength he still had left—
But as he stepped into the corridor, someone flew around the corner, breathless, frightened—
A palace guard.
“Your Majesty—!”
Delvin stiffened. “What is it?”
The guard’s face was pale with urgency.
“It’s the Celestian princess,” he gasped. “We’ve found her.”
Delvin’s heart lurched.
“Where?”
The guard swallowed hard.
And his answer twisted everything into a new, terrifying shape.
“She was discovered outside the palace walls. Injured… and unconscious. And the circumstances suggest—”
He hesitated.
Delvin’s blood ran cold.
“—a kidnapping attempt.”
The world stopped.
The corridor spun.
And Delvin realized—
His sacrifice meant nothing.
Because the princess he had agreed to marry…
was barely clinging to life.
- Writer
