My vision suddenly clears, but the scene before me has changed. I am in my throne room, and Aquilo is quietly standing guard nearby. One of my courtiers, Duke Charles, is standing before me. He bows politely before saying,

“Your Majesty, it is your duty as the King to marry and produce an heir. I will ask you once again to reconsider my proposal.” 

Ever since I ascended to the throne, I had been swarmed by nobles begging me to marry into their family, but I had no desire to accept any of their offers. Which noble lady could truly stand by my side, a monstrous king who had killed his own family for power? There is only one person in this world who accepts me as I am.

I turn my gaze to Aquilo, but his reaction is not what I had hoped for. He is staring blankly into the distance, like a cat staring at something that humans cannot see. Seeing this, I suddenly feel a sense of crisis.

“Sir Aquilo, do you have any thoughts on this matter?” I ask in an attempt to alleviate my anxiety.

Aquilo is silent for what feels like eternity before replying:

“Your Majesty I…I believe that you should consider the Duke’s proposal.”

 Hearing this, I feel as though an ice-tipped arrow has been shot through my chest, spreading its chill into my heart. The words I say next are laced with that ice:

“Duke Charles, since Sir Aquilo has so graciously taken your side on this matter, I have decided to accept the engagement to your daughter. Prepare the arrangements, the wedding will take place in a six month’s time.”

 Duke Charles instantly brightens, appearing as though he has just plucked the sun from the sky. He bows deeply, expressing his gratitude before quickly retreating, probably thinking that if he lingers too long, I will change my mind. I decide to follow his example and make a quick escape, and as I walk out of the hall, I keep my eyes trained on the door to avoid looking at the other person in the room. I know that if I do, Duke Charles’ fear may very well come true.

After escaping into the hall, I make my way to my bedchamber and dismiss all the servants, telling them that no one is to disturb me until the morning. Once they leave, I grab one of the many jewel encrusted vases decorating my room and throw it against the wall, shattering it into pieces. One of the braver servants peeks their head through the door to check on me, but I send a vase flying above his head,and he retreats with a yelp. I continue my rampage until the floor is covered in porcelain fragments and shattered gems.

My vision begins to blur and I fall to the ground. I can feel the razor sharp shards dig into my skin, but the pain is nothing compared to the ache of my heart. I stare at my shattered reflection as my innermost thoughts grow louder and louder.

You’re a burden. You’re a bastard, a murderer, a tyrant. It’s no wonder why they all hate you. It’s no wonder why he hates you.

The pain in my chest is so unbearable that I can barely even breathe. My vision begins to swim, and every horrible thought and emotion mixes together as the world fades away once again.