A Gift Unto the King

Compromise

Night fell over Castle Valkevilla. Vin sat slouched in an old chair, twiddling with his goblet of wine, finding himself uncaring for the taste of it on this particular evening. Instead, he blankly stared at the cup, glimmering in the warm candle light of the solar, consumed within himself.

Carmilla had long since retired to her chambers, and amidst Vin's offers to stay with her for the night, she refused, and so he left her be. Still, the guilt of it all clung to him tightly and he feared it may never loosen its grip. There was no comfort he could offer her to lessen the gravity of what would shortly transpire and at the core of it, he somehow felt solely responsible for it. Even if he knew in his mind that it wasn't true, his heart wouldn't let him believe it.

The corner of his mouth twisted with disgust as he slammed the rest of the wine down, the sweet alcohol burning at his throat.

"Alliances." He grumbled to himself. "Stupid fucking alliances." Vin pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed.

There came a knock at the door, and the light creaking of old hinges as it slowly swung open.

"If it's not terribly important, I'd like to be alone." Vin spoke, his voice low and graveled.

Hearing the door gently clack shut, he glanced over his shoulder to find his mother, cautiously standing in front of it. Despite the shadows of the candlelight casting harshly against her tired face, she looked perfectly manicured.

"I was hoping to speak with you before I retired." Marion replied softly, slowly approaching her son's chair.

"In regards to what?" Vin huffed, still fiddling with his empty goblet.

Marion sighed, taking a seat in the chair nearest the king. She studied his face, noting how worn it had become in the short time since he'd taken the throne. Dark circles hung under his shadowed eyes, and not even the ghost of a smile remained on him. His silky, black hair was slightly disheveled, and his natural waves were beginning to show through it.

"I heard about Carmilla." She finally answered.

"If congratulations are why you're here, this conversation can certainly wait until morn-"

"It's not." Marion interjected.

The pair fell silent for a moment as Marion collected herself, nervously picking at her gown.

"When I was young," she started, "there was no question about the life I would be expected to live. To be born noble is to be born with power and responsibility."

Vin gave her a sideward glance, of which Marion found herself too preoccupied to notice.

"I didn't know then that I would one day become queen. Not for certain, anyways." She continued. "I... I guess it was just something I saw as a possibility rather than an inevitability. But still, it was my duty to prepare for it regardless of the outcome." Marion sighed softly. "Part of that preparation was understanding that... in order to be a good leader, sometimes difficult choices must be made."

"And this was one of those difficult choices." Vin muttered under his breath.

"I know you resent me for what I've done." Marion bit her lip, a light tremble in her voice. "And I wish I could ask you to forgive me for it, but I fear I cannot ask that of you."

Vin remained quiet, studying his mother's face, his brows still frustratedly tensed.

"When you were small," she cracked a tiny smile, "I saw so much of myself in you. My darling son, who's heart was so filled with compassion and kindness." She shook her head softly, looking fondly back into her memories. "But, you had such an adventurous spirit. You were bold, and carefree, and sometimes a little rebellious." She giggled. "Hardly a day went by that a grin wasn't plastered across your little face."