Chapter 6.5 Empty Chairs

The corridor outside the western dining hall smelled faintly of rosemary and smoke. Wrena paused just before the carved double doors, one hand resting against the cool dark wood as voices drifted through the crack where the doors had failed to fully close. 

Orther was laughing. Not genuinely, not fully. It was the louder sort of laugh he used lately. The one that arrived too quickly and lingered too long. “You wound me,” he declared dramatically from inside. “I was attempting to elevate the conversation.” 

“You compared Master Iverra to a dying goose.” Nokon replied. 

“She sounds like one.” Orther shot back. 

A few muffled snorts followed. Wrena smiled despite herself and pushed the doors open. The room was smaller than the formal banquet hall used for court dinners. This chamber belonged only to the royal family and whatever honored guests Malrik occasionally allowed near them. The ceiling arched low with dark beams. Candles burned in iron holders along the walls, throwing gold light across polished wood and silver serving dishes. 

Not all of her siblings had arrived. That had become more common lately. Cedoric sat sideways in his chair, balancing an apple on the edge of his knife while Rylla watched with obvious anticipation for disaster. Nokon lounged carelessly with one boot hooked beneath his chair while Orther leaned across the table mid-story, grinning like some charming criminal from an old ballad. 

Elmara sat beside Elora…or rather, she sat near Elora. Wrena noticed the distinction immediately. Elmara’s embroidery hoop rested untouched in her lap while Elora stared at the untouched food before her as though she had forgotten what it was for. 

Walric was absent entirely…again.

“Wrena!” Cedoric brightened. “You’re late.” 

“I was with Mother.” Wrena explained. The room shifted slightly at that. Not fear, not quite, but their mother rarely summoned only one of them anymore unless there was purpose behind it. 

“Did she finally decide you’re her favorite?” Orther asked. 

“She already knew that.” Wrena replied smoothly as she sat. Nokon groaned loudly, Rylla smirked into her cup, and for a moment, it almost felt normal. 

Servants moved quietly through the room filling cups and replacing dishes while conversation drifted from hunting dogs to court gossip to speculation about which noble son had embarrassed himself most thoroughly during morning sparring. But the rhythm felt wrong, broken in places. Wrena found herself noticing pauses where there had once been overlap. Spaces where voices used to collide. 

Leonah arrived midway through the meal, apologizing softly as she slipped into an empty chair near the end of the table. A stack of books rested against her chest. 

“Studying during supper?” Nokon asked, more sad than annoyed. 

Leonah offered a tired smile. “Madame Severine extended my assignments.” 

“Cruel woman.” Orther muttered. 

“She’s just preparing her.” Elmara said quietly. The table fell silent for a half breath too long. Preparing her. Not teaching. Preparing. As though Leonah already belonged somewhere else. 

Wrena looked down the length of the table at all of them. Cedoric still trying to make Rylla laugh. Nokon pretending not to care about anything at all. Orther smiling too easily. Leonah growing quieter each passing month. Elmara watching everyone when she thought they didn’t notice. Elora barely touching reality itself. And Walric…absent, again. Always beside their father now. Always learning war rooms and council chambers and the language of crowns. 

The realization came suddenly enough to steal the breath from her lungs. They were already beginning to leave each other. Not physically, not yet, but it had begun. Slowly, quietly, like cracks spreading beneath ice. 

Wrena’s gaze drifted toward the empty chair near the center of the table, the one Walric usually occupied during family meals before Malrik had started pulling him away more and more often. It looked strange sitting empty. Wrong. 

Suddenly she imagined more empty chairs. Leonah’s one day removed for marriage. Elora disappearing into someplace none of them could follow. Nokon refusing court entirely, Orther laughing through exile or war or heartbreak. Rylla grown suspicious and sharp. Cedoric older and changed, and the terrifying thing was not that it might happen, it was that it would. 

One day there would come a final evening where all nine heirs sat together at this table, and none of them would realize it was the last. The thought settled heavily inside her. 

Across from her, Elora blinked suddenly and looked toward the doorway as though she had heard someone enter, but no one had. Elmara noticed too. Their eyes met briefly, and for the first time in years, Wrena felt something cold move through her chest. Not fear, recognition. Something was happening to their family, and none of them yet understood the shape of it.