Chapter 8.5 Burdens

Thyren remained on the balcony long after Princess Elmara disappeared into the castle. The celebration below continued as though nothing had happened. Nobles laughed beneath the lantern light. Musicians played cheerful melodies. Servants hurried between tables carrying food and wine. Nobody seemed to notice that one of the princesses had collapsed. 

Or perhaps they had noticed and simply chosen not to speak of it. That seemed more likely. Thyren leaned against the stone railing and looked out over the royal gardens. “I will make it on my own.” The words echoes in his mind. She had spoken them with confidence. Conviction. Even pride. Yet all he could remember was how pale she had looked. How tightly she had been gripping the balcony. How desperately she had seemed to need someone to tell her she didn’t have to carry everything herself. A strange feeling settled in his chest. Not pity, concern. The kind that arrived when someone reminded you of another person. 

With a sigh, he pushed away from the railing and headed back into the castle. The halls had grown quieter as the evening wore on. Most guests remained outside enjoying the festivities. A few guards nodded as he passed. Eventually he reached Nokon’s chambers. He knocked once before opening the door himself. As expected, Nokon was exactly where he always seemed to be. Sprawled across a chair with a book in his lap. Whether he was actually reading it was another matter entirely. 

Without looking up, Nokon spoke. “How was the party?” 

“Successful.” 

“Then why do you look as though someone died?” Nokon looked up from his book looking annoyed. 

Thyren stepped inside and shut the door behind him. For a moment, he considered dismissing the question. Instead he found himself answering honestly. “Because I think your sister is carrying a burden she was never meant to.” 

Nokon snorted. “Which one?” He looked back at his book. 

The answer should have been immediate. Elmara. That was who he had been thinking about all evening. Yet, as soon as Nokon asked the question, other faces appeared in his mind. Wrena standing taller than anyone should have to. Walric trying endlessly to become the prince everyone expected. Leonah smiling through every discussion of her future marriage. Elora drifting further away each time he saw her. Rylla chasing secrets she was far too young to understand. Cedoric searching desperately for somewhere he belonged. Even Nokon himself. The answer caught in his throat. 

Across the room, Nokon finally closed his book and looked up at his friend. A humorless smile touched his lips. “Exactly.” 

The room fell silent. Thyren rubbed the back of his neck. “Surely not all of them.” 

“All of them.” The response came quickly, too easily. As though Nokon had reached that conclusion years ago. “They were born into a kingdom that already decided what they are worth.” He put his book down and stood up to stand closer to the lit fireplace. “A queen. A king. A bride. A hostage. A diplomat. A symbol. A sacrifice.” His gaze kept on the fire. “None of them get to simply be children.”:

Thyren frowned. “There must be something that can be done.” 

A quiet laugh escaped Nokon’s throat. Not because he found the idea amusing, but because he found it impossible. “No.” 

“No?” 

“No.” he then wrapped his arms over one another and looked back at him. There was a shout from the court garden below and both looked at the window. Beyond the glass, the lights of the celebration flickered against the darkness. The kingdom was celebrating. The kingdom was always celebrating.” Victories, traditions, ceremonies, betrothals. As if joy could disguise the coast. “For all their power,” Nokon said quietly, “all their titles and gold, every one of them is walking toward a cliff they didn’t choose.” His reflection stared back at him from the glass. “And the cruelest part is that they know it.” 

Thyren found himself thinking of Elmara again, of the exhaustion hidden behind her smile. Of the relief in her eyes when she spoke of pleasing the Veiled Flame. As though earning love and keeping love were somehow the same thing. The thought made his chest ache. “There has to be something.” 

Nokon remained silent for several moments. When he finally spoke, his voice was softer than before. “That’s the tragedy.” He rested one hand against the mantle. “There isn’t a damn thing either of us can do about it.” 

The room grew still. Outside, music drifted through the night air. Laughter followed. The celebration continued. Inside the castle, two young men stood watching a kingdom prepare its children for futures neither of them could stop, and for the first time in a long while, Thyren wondered if Nokon was right.