Epsilon

Chapter 13

The dining hall held an eerie air.

The room was full- the guests all flushed after an afternoon of dancing and laughing- but everyone seemed to go silent at the important figure missing at the head table. Their only reassurance was the oblivious two sisters trying to keep the party going.

But it was like trying to ignore a fact that glared in every visitor's face.

The king was gone.

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"She didn't make it."

The darkness of the room strangled James's heart so much that he didn't understand how he was still breathing.

"Sir?" The doctor kept his hands locked behind him to keep them steady. In surgery, it was easy for him to keep still, but this...this was one of the hardest things he would ever have to do. The proud and powerful king he admired so much felt like putty in the doctor's hands. And he couldn't stand it.

"And the child?"

The doctor gulped. "Dead, sir."

"I-I assumed that. I simply want to know the gender." James voice was becoming more stern, and he could see the doctor hesitate in his answer.

"We've lost a prince."

The king turned away as the doctor bowed his head. James saw him move to leave out of the corner of his eye.

"Call a servant for me, will you?"

The doctor solemnly nodded at the request. The morphing of a command to a request scared him. His king was broken, and he prayed that it wouldn't lead to a broken country, too.

He shut the door behind him.

The king took a book and began ripping out the pages. Not as a ball of fury. Page by page, he softly ripped each paper out of the book, unsurprised that they became more and more damp as he went on. He ran out of pages. He let out a cry.

"Sir is everything alright?"

James tried to hold in his anger. Of course he wasn't alright.

"Sir?"

"Get me a child."

"I will call Cecily for you."

"No, a boy, a baby boy. Go to an orphanage. Ask for one. Must I explain the simplest of things to you?" Despite James's calm tone, a river of anger and hatred ran past each letter, gushing between the words and swirling around punctuation. He faced the curtains, refusing to let anyone see his eyes that held a giant why he knew no one could answer.

"Sir, I'm not so sure that's a good idea."

"I'm your king." He finally faced the man, and saw that the servant's eyes were red and face stained with tears. "I'm your king, I'm your king," he whispered, he realized, he remembered. "Never mind what I said. Just get out." The servant scurried out of the room.

James dropped to his knees, where ink ran with salt and the words of writers before him cried to see such a good king fall.

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Felicity hummed to herself, her arm looped with Adelina's, both skipping down the hall.

That's when they were stopped by a servant.

That's when they stopped skipping.

There was only dashing and running and sprinting to James's office, both sisters full of compassion but unsure of how to act on it.

Adelina got there first, bursting in. She froze, staring at her brother. He was on his knees facing the window, seemingly unaware of the crumpled papers strewn around him.

Felicity burst in soon after, rushing across the room to fall on her brother, who didn't even flinch.

"Oh, James," she whispered, her grief and tears staining his celebration finery. "I'm so sorry." She sniffed loudly, stiffening when James shrugged her off.

"A ruler is a rock, not swayed by grief nor desire," he muttered stoically.

"What?"

"Go to your room, Felicity."

"What, no. James."

"Guards!"

"But." Her face scrunched up as she was pulled off her brother and dragged out. "No! Don't do this!"

Adelina saw the tear rolling silently down his cheek. "James..."

"Just stop, Adelina. I can't do this right now. Not with you."

She turned to go, unsure of what to do, where to go, when his voice stopped her.

"Samantha told me about your prenatal appointments."

"I loved her too, James."

"She told me not to get mad. That it was no big deal. She's dead now."

Adelina's forehead wrinkled. "I don't think you understand."

"No, Adelina. You don't understand. You knew I didn't want any of those new ideas here, and yet you experimented with them. On my wife. You're too blinded by your-" he took a deep breath to calm himself. "Out. Please."

"James-"

"Out!" he roared.

Adelina glared at him before striding out the door. She paused by Felicity's room, another piece of her heart breaking with each sob that racked her sister's body.

And then she did what she always did. She folded up her sorrow like a cloth and shoved it into the bottom drawer of her heart. Not knowing how to comfort Felicity, she decided it would be better to not even try.

And so Adelina walked a familiar path to her room in a familiar state of mind-alone and exhausted.