Pains

Kingdom of Aethermoor

 Two Days Later: Nightfall

The door to Princess Eryndra's room creaked open and the maid stepped inside to find the young princess sitting in front of her dressing mirror, already dressed to retire for the night. Her nightgown was simple but elegant, fitting for someone who'd grown up knowing she was royalty but had never quite felt the weight of it until recently.

"Good evening, Princess," her handmaid greeted, bowing slightly.

Eryndra looked at her through the mirror's reflection, letting out a small smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. Something had been bothering her these past few days, though she couldn't put her finger on what exactly.

"Enrica," she called softly, turning in her chair.

"Your Highness, your father requests your presence in his chamber," Enrica said, her voice carrying an odd formality that made Eryndra pause.

Eryndra nodded slowly. "Alright," she muttered, standing up. It was unusual for her father to summon her this late, especially when she was already prepared for bed. But then again, King Alric had been acting strange lately. More meetings behind closed doors, hushed conversations that stopped when she entered a room, worried glances from the council members.

Her handmaid moved quickly to help her with her night robe, the soft fabric settling around her shoulders like a protective embrace. If only she knew how much protection she'd need after tonight.

They made their way out of her room, Eryndra's bare feet silent against the cold stone floors. The castle felt different at night - shadows seemed longer, whispers seemed to echo from empty corridors. She'd always loved the nighttime quiet of the palace, but tonight it felt ominous somehow.

After passing through several corridors and rooms, they finally arrived at the king's chamber. The guards stationed outside looked more tense than usual, their eyes avoiding hers as they straightened.

"Good evening, Your Highness," they greeted in unison.

Eryndra smiled softly as they opened the heavy wooden doors for her. She stepped inside while Enrica stayed behind, as was proper. The doors closed with a soft thud that seemed to seal her fate.

The King's chamber was dimly lit, candles flickering and casting dancing shadows on the tapestried walls. Her father sat in his favorite chair near the fireplace, but something was different about his posture. King Alric looked... defeated. His usually proud shoulders were slumped, and his face wore an expression she'd never seen before - not anger, not disappointment, but something much worse. Resignation.

"Good evening, Father," she greeted, forcing brightness into her voice despite the chill that was creeping up her spine.

King Alric nodded his head without looking at her directly. "Take a seat," he said, his voice rougher than usual.

Eryndra settled into the chair across from him, smoothing her nightgown nervously. "Father, you don't look well. Is there a problem?" The words tumbled out before she could stop them. In the back of her mind, she already knew the answer would change everything.

King Alric finally looked at her, really looked at her, and she saw something that made her stomach drop. Guilt. Pain. And underneath it all, a terrifying resolve.

"Eryndra," he began, his voice careful and measured, "you know you've just turned nineteen."

She stared at him, confusion mixing with growing dread. "Yes, Father. Is there any problem with that?"

The king was quiet for a long moment, as if gathering courage for what came next. When he spoke, his words fell like stones into still water, creating ripples that would change everything.

"You'll be getting married tomorrow."

The words hung in the air between them. Eryndra blinked once, twice, certain she'd misheard. "What are you saying, Father?" Her voice came out smaller than she intended. "How can I possibly be getting married when I haven't found the right person?"

"You don't have to find the right person," King Alric said, each word seeming to cost him. "I already have someone in mind for you. The King of Valethorne. King Malakar."

Eryndra's breath caught in her throat. The name hit her like a physical blow, and for a moment she couldn't breathe at all. Of course it was a name everyone knew - even children in the furthest villages whispered about King Malakar in frightened tones. The heartless king. The cruel ruler who found joy in others' suffering. The man they called the devil incarnate.

Stories about him were told to scare misbehaving children. Tales of entire villages that had dared to oppose him, reduced to ash and memory. Of nobles who'd crossed him and simply... disappeared. Of the way he'd taken his own throne, through methods so brutal that even hardened soldiers refused to speak of them openly.

"No." The word escaped her lips as she sprang to her feet, the chair scraping against stone. "Father, tell me you're joking. Please."

"This is no joke, Eryndra." King Alric's voice was flat, emotionless, but she could see his hands gripping the arms of his chair so tightly his knuckles were white.

"Why are you doing this to me?" she snapped, her voice breaking. "Have you forgotten the rumors? Father, don't you know the type of person he is? Why are you pushing me toward the devil himself?"

The pain that had been building in her chest exploded into words she'd been holding back for years. "What about the promises you made? I thought you said you'd wait for me to choose. I thought we agreed I would get married when I found someone my heart belonged to. Then why change now? Why—"

"Enough, Eryndra!" King Alric's voice cracked like a whip, cutting her short.

She flinched but didn't back down, tears already starting to blur her vision.

"Snap out of your fantasy of marrying for love," he continued, but there was no heat in his words now, only exhaustion. "Do you know the situation we're in? You know exactly what type of person he is."

His voice grew quieter, more broken. "He wanted to destroy our kingdom, to raze everything I've built to the ground. He was planning to march on us within the month. I had no choice—"

"You had no choice but to offer me in exchange for your kingdom's safety," Eryndra finished bitterly, the pieces clicking together in her mind like a horrible puzzle.

The silence stretched between them, filled only by the crackling of the fire and her ragged breathing.

"Did it ever occur to you, Father," she whispered, "that I might not last a month with him? That he might kill me just for the fun of it?" Her voice rose with each word. "Did you think of my safety at all?"

King Alric's face crumpled for just a moment before hardening again. "Eryndra, the kingdom's safety matters. I cannot risk thousands of lives—"

"Of course!" she exploded. "You're so focused on your precious kingdom that you've forgotten I'm your daughter too! That you're supposed to protect me!"

The words poured out of her now, years of buried resentment and pain flowing like a dam had burst. "It was the kingdom when Mother died too, wasn't it? You were so busy with your royal duties that you couldn't even save your own wife. And now you want to do the same thing to me?"

King Alric's hands clenched into fists, but she didn't stop.

"You want to ruin my life for the sake of your kingdom, just like you let Mother die for it!" The tears were flowing freely now, hot against her cheeks.

The accusation hung between them like a blade. She'd never said it before, never dared to voice what she'd always suspected - that if her father had been there instead of dealing with some political crisis, maybe her mother would still be alive.

For a moment, King Alric looked like she'd physically struck him. His face went pale, and something flickered in his eyes that might have been regret. But when he spoke, his voice was hard as steel.

"I don't care what you say, Eryndra. Prepare yourself - you're leaving for Valethorne tomorrow. The wedding will be held once you arrive there. The decision is made, and nothing you can say will change it."

More tears fell from Eryndra's eyes as she stared at her father - this man who had once carried her on his shoulders, who had taught her to ride horses and read ancient texts, who had promised her she would never have to marry anyone she didn't love. That man seemed like a stranger now.

She knew it already, had known it from the moment he'd spoken Malakar's name. No amount of tears, no amount of pleading would make him change his mind. Once King Alric made a decision for the good of the realm, it was carved in stone.

But still, she couldn't help the tears that continued to fall. Because she knew, deep down in her heart with a certainty that terrified her, this marriage wouldn't just be unhappy or difficult.

It would be her doom.