"Sire... there's nothing else we can do for her."
The king looked at his queen lying peacefully on the bed. Her figure was frailer and paler than he had ever seen. Sitting down, he took her hand in his and kissed her fingers gently.
"I thought I was supposed to be the one to die first?" He whispered against her skin.
The queen's eyes drifted open slowly. It was clear it took great effort for her to open them. Her usually big round eyes were now half open slits, barely showing the white.
"I guess... this is the first... time... I'll defeat you... at something," the queen whispered coarsely.
The king trembled as he lost his calm and fought to hold back his tears as a new wave of grief tightened around his heart. His jaw clenched, and his breath came in shaky gasps.
"I'm fine." The queen reassured him, raising her free hand towards his head.
"You're not fine! I always know how you feel. There's no way you are fine like this."
The queen glanced at the other side of the bed.
"Cain... tell him... I'm fine."
"I wish I could, my queen." Cain said, bowing his head low.
"The peasants think I've sacrificed you for more power," the king said drearily.
"They will always...think the worst.. of their betters."
"The nobles want to placate them by having you ride through the city."
The queen looked at her husband, raising her half-closed eyelids to see him clearer. His eyes showed the exhaustion of sorrow-filled, sleepless nights; his hair was noticeably grayer. Deep wrinkle lines marked his once youthful, handsome face.
"Lie with me. Let us have a lazy day... read to me... like you used to."
"Yes."
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