“There you are,” he said softly to Talia. “Let me help you sit properly. Please be more careful next time, Tals. Those precious legs of yours shouldn’t suffer a scratch, let alone a cut like this.”
The door clicked shut behind me before I could hear more.
My hands trembled as I leaned against the desk, trying to steady my breathing.
I couldn’t help but remember the time I was injured in the woods. I’d called for Lucian, hoping—no, expecting—he would come. But he didn’t.
When I finally made it back, bruised and bleeding, he barely looked at me.
“Good you’re back. Kael was worried,” he’d said, his voice devoid of concern. “Stop overreacting. You just had a small wound.”
Small wound.
The words echoed in my mind, cutting deeper than the injuries ever had. My cuts and bruises had been dismissed like nothing, as though my pain didn’t matter.
I stared at the papers on my desk, the words blurring together. My hands clenched into fists, nails digging into my palms. I didn’t know if the burn in my chest was jealousy, hurt, or anger.
Maybe all three.
No matter what it was, it left one thing abundantly clear: I couldn’t go on like this.
Days had passed since I last felt any semblance of peace. Bertha, the council’s senior healer and Kael’s primary caregiver, called me into her quarters today. The look in her eyes as I entered told me everything I needed to know, yet I clung to a fragile sliver of hope.
“Sera, I wish I didn’t have to give you this news,” Bertha began, her voice trembling. “But as Kael’s mother, you deserve to know the truth.”
My heart raced, and the mug in my hand trembled, the hot tea forgotten. “Just tell me,” I whispered, bracing myself for the blow.
Bertha took a deep breath, her face etched with sorrow. “Kael’s condition is deteriorating. The disease… it’s spread throughout his body. At this point, it’s no longer a matter of if, but when.”
The words felt like a dagger, twisting deeper with every syllable. My throat tightened, and I struggled to find my voice.
“We’ve done everything we could,” Bertha continued, her tone heavy with regret. “If he stays longer, his suffering will only grow. I hate saying this, but you need to prepare yourself.”
My legs felt like they would give out beneath me. The world blurred as her words sank in.