“Knock first,” Jarek said sheepishly, though his mouth twitched with barely suppressed amusement. “But this is important. The Queen didn’t come down for breakfast, and that’s not like her.”
The irritation in Draven’s eyes shifted to concern. “She probably just slept in. She had quite a bit of wine at dinner last night.”
“Maybe, but I thought you should check on her,” Jarek said, his tone growing more serious. “She’s never missed breakfast without sending word.”
Lila felt a flutter of unease in her stomach. Queen Serenya had seemed perfectly fine the night before—gracious, welcoming, even giving her blessing to their relationship.
But people can have medical emergencies without warning.
“I’ll go with you,” she offered, already mentally shifting into her professional mode. “If she’s not feeling well, I might be able to help.”
Draven nodded, his kingly authority taking precedence over their intimate moment. “Alright. And Jarek, next time knock before barging into my chambers.”
“Duly noted,” Jarek said with a grin before disappearing back down the corridor.
Five minutes later, Lila walked beside Draven through the castle’s ornate corridors, her yellow sundress from the previous day wrinkled but decent. She’d hoped the Queen wouldn’t notice she was wearing the same clothes.
Please let this just be a late morning. Please let her be fine.
They reached the Queen’s private chambers, and Draven knocked gently on the carved obsidian doors. “Mother?”
Silence.
He tried the handle and found it unlocked, pushing the doors open to reveal a spacious suite decorated in rich burgundy and gold. The late morning light filtered through heavy curtains, casting long shadows across the room.
Queen Serenya lay still in her massive four-poster bed, her hair spread across the silk pillowcase. She looked peaceful, as if she were simply enjoying a late sleep.
“Mother,” Draven called softly as he approached the bed. He reached out and gently shook her shoulder. “Mother, it’s?—”
His hand jerked back as if burned, his face draining of all color. “She’s... she’s not breathing.”
The words hit Lila like a punch to the gut. She rushed to the bed, her emergency medical training kicking in as she pressed her fingers to the Queen’s neck, searching for a pulse she already knew wouldn’t be there. The skin was cool to the touch, with the waxy pallor that meant death had come hours ago.
“No, no, no,” Draven whispered, his breathing becoming rapid and shallow. “This can’t be happening. She was fine yesterday. She was laughing at dinner. She was?—”
Lila’s shouting for Jarek pierced the air, desperate cries that carried down the corridors. She needed Jarek here now, before Draven’s panic attack spiraled completely out of control.
Draven collapsed onto the chair beside the bed, his powerful frame shaking as his breathing became erratic gasps. “I can’t... I can’t breathe. This isn’t real. This isn’t happening.”
The sound of running footsteps echoed in the corridor, and Jarek burst into the room moments later. His gaze swept the scene—Lila kneeling beside the bed, Draven hyperventilating in the chair, and the Queen’s still form.
“The Queen is dead,” Jarek said quietly, his voice heavy with grief and disbelief.
“Draven, look at me,” Lila commanded, dropping to her knees in front of him and grasping his face between her hands. “Focus on my voice. Breathe with me. In for four counts, hold for four, out for four.”
But he was too far gone, lost in the grip of panic and grief. “This can’t be happening. I should have been here. I was thinking about you, and you got me distracted, instead of protecting her, and now she’s?—”
The word ‘distracted’ hit Lila like a slap, even though she knew trauma could make people lash out at those closest to them.
He doesn’t mean it. He’s in shock.
“Draven, your mother’s death is not your fault,” she said firmly, maintaining eye contact as she continued the breathing exercises. “Sometimes these things happen without warning. Sometimes there’s nothing anyone can do.”
Jarek called for the castle healer on his communicator while keeping a watchful eye on Draven’s condition. “The healer’s on her way, though I suspect it’s too late for medical intervention.”
After what felt like an eternity but was probably only ten minutes, Lila finally managed to get Draven’s breathing under control. His golden eyes were red-rimmed with unshed tears as he slumped in the chair.
“I don’t know what I’m going to do now,” he whispered. “I just don’t understand what happened to her.”
