Chapter 44- Gone
By the time the sun had fully risen over the palace, the light spilling through my windows felt almost mocking.
Soft.
Golden.
Peaceful.
As if the world beyond these walls had no understanding of the weight pressing down on my chest.
I stood for a moment in the center of my chambers, staring at the towering stack of papers Elias had delivered earlier that morning.
They sat on my desk like a silent challenge, orderly, neat, and entirely overwhelming.
Each document represented something I did not yet fully understand.
Each one required a decision I was expected to make without hesitation.
For a brief moment, I allowed myself to simply look at them.
To feel the enormity of it.
Then I exhaled slowly, squared my shoulders, and walked forward.
Because whether or not I had chosen this life
It was mine now.
And I would not run from it.
The first few hours passed in a steady rhythm of voices and numbers.
The kitchen staff arrived first, carrying with them the scent of fresh bread and spices that still clung faintly to their clothes. They bowed deeply, speaking quickly, their words layered with details about supply shipments, storage conditions, and preparation schedules.
At first, it all blurred together.
But I forced myself to listen.
Really listen.
I asked them to repeat things.
Slowed them down.
Asked questions I worried might sound foolish.
And slowly, piece by piece, the information began to settle into something that resembled understanding.
Elias lingered nearby, leaning against the wall in his usual careless posture, arms loosely crossed over his chest.
"You're thinking too hard," he said at one point, watching me frown at a page.
"I have to," I replied, not looking up.
"That's not how rulers survive."
"And how do they survive?"
"They pretend they understand everything and let someone else do the thinking."
I glanced at him briefly.
"I'd rather actually understand it."
He smiled faintly.
"...dangerous choice."
After the kitchen staff came the stable masters.
Then the servants' overseers.
Then the quartermasters.
The room filled and emptied in cycles, each group bringing new information, new responsibilities, new decisions.
The air grew warmer as the day stretched on, sunlight shifting across the polished floors, climbing slowly along the walls before settling into a golden glow that softened the room's sharp edges.
And through it all
I worked.
By midday, something inside me began to shift.
The numbers stopped feeling like meaningless ink on paper.
They began to connect.
Patterns emerged.
Systems revealed themselves.
And for the first time since stepping into this role, I felt something close to confidence.
Until
"...this is wrong."
The words left me before I could stop them.
My fingers stilled against the page as I stared down at the figures.
Elias straightened slightly.
"What is?"
I turned the document toward him, pointing to the discrepancy.
"These numbers don't match the supply records."
He stepped closer, leaning just enough to glance at the page.
For a moment, his expression remained neutral.
Then his eyes sharpened.
"Well," he said lightly, "that's unfortunate."
I lifted my gaze to meet his.
"That's suspicious." A faint smirk tugged at his lips.
"That too."
I didn't hesitate.
"Call the guards."
He studied me for a fraction of a second before pushing himself off the wall.
"Yes, Your Majesty."
The title was spoken with just enough amusement to make me narrow my eyes but he went. The guards arrived quickly.
They always did.
The man responsible for the records followed shortly after, escorted between them.
He looked nervous.
Too nervous.
His eyes darted around the room, his hands clasped tightly in front of him as though he could physically hold himself together.
I gestured to the paper.
"Explain this."
He tried.
He truly did.
But the more he spoke, the more his words tangled. His voice wavered. His explanations shifted. Details changed mid-sentence. And I I listened.
Quietly.
Patiently.
Until there was no doubt left.
The silence that followed felt heavy.
Final.
I nodded once.
The guards moved.
The man's composure shattered instantly.
"Your Majesty...please....there's been a mistake...!"
His voice rose, panic cracking through every word as they seized him.
"I can fix it...I swear..!"
I didn't look at him.
I couldn't.
Instead, I looked at the paper. At the numbers that had betrayed him. The door closed behind them. The sound echoed softly through the room.
And then
Nothing.
Silence.
Elias watched me carefully.
But my chest felt tight.
I did not ask where they were taking him.
I did not ask what would happen next.
Because I already knew.
And knowing was enough.
The rest of the day unfolded in a blur.
Meeting after meeting.
Decision after decision. My head began to ache somewhere in the late afternoon, a dull pressure building behind my eyes as the hours stretched on.
But I didn't stop.
I couldn't.
By the time the final reports were completed, the sky outside had shifted into deep shades of orange and violet, the sun sinking slowly beyond the horizon.
The palace grew quieter.
The constant movement of servants slowed.
The world seemed to exhale.
And finally
So did I.
The walk back to my chambers felt longer than usual.
My steps slower.
Heavier.
The torches along the walls flickered softly, their light casting long shadows that stretched across the floor like reaching hands.
I pushed open the door.
And stopped.
The room was quiet.
Still.
The bed was untouched. My gaze lingered there, my chest tightening slightly.
He wasn't there.
Of course, he wasn't.
He had responsibilities.
Duties.
Wars to fight.
I knew that.
I understood that.
Still...A small, stubborn part of me resisted the idea that he would leave without a word.
Not him.
There had to be a reason.
There was always a reason with him.
Achilles did nothing without purpose.
I turned and left the room.
I found Elias in one of the side corridors, exactly where I expected him to be—leaning against the wall as though the entire palace existed solely for his convenience.
"Where is he?" I asked. Elias glanced at me. Then shrugged. "He left this morning."
The words landed quietly.
"...left?"
"Campaign," he said.
"Border issue."
"He took soldiers and left before sunrise."
I nodded slowly.
That made sense.
Of course it did.
Still
"...and no one thought to tell me?"
Elias raised an eyebrow.
"You were asleep."
"That's not the point." He studied me for a moment. "He'll be back," he added.
"A few days."
"Maybe two weeks."
I nodded again.
"I understand."
And I did.
But the ache in my chest didn't disappear. Because even if he had to leave He could have told me.He could have
Elias suddenly froze.
"...oh."
I frowned.
"What?"
He began patting his coat.
Then his other pocket.
"...oh no."
My eyes narrowed.
"Elias." He pulled out a folded piece of paper. And held it out to me.
"...this might be important."
I stared at it.
Then at him.
Then back at it.
My heart skipped as I recognized the handwriting.
"He left you a note," Elias said.
Silence stretched between us.
"...you had this," I said slowly.
"Yes."
"The entire time."
"...yes."
Something inside me snapped. I took the letter from his hand. Then immediately smacked him with it.
"You forgot?!"
He stumbled back, laughing as he raised his arms.
"It was a busy morning!"
"That was from my husband!"
"I remembered eventually!"
"You remembered when I asked!"
"That still counts!"
I hit him again.
"Elias!"
"Alright! Alright!"
He laughed, retreating further down the corridor. I lowered the letter, breathing harder than before. The anger faded quickly.
Replaced by something softer.
Relief.
He hadn't left without a word.
He hadn't just
Gone.
I looked down at the letter in my hands. My fingers smoothed over the folds carefully, almost reverently.