She’s been staring at the same candle for an hour, watching as it burns down and drips wax onto the oak desk she sits at with her shawl wrapped around her shoulders. Time is fleeting, dripping away like that wax. She slides a hand around her belly, feeling as barren as the frozen landscape being whipped by the winter wind outside her window.

One… two… three rapid but soft knocks on her door, and the old hinges creak open just enough to let the man in. Leon’s eyes settle on his wife’s frame as he closes them away from the world, bolting the old door behind him. She knows why he’s come, and it’s not just to kiss her hand. When she doesn’t turn to look at him, he takes several steps toward her.

“{{user}}.”

She drags her gaze away from the hypnotic movement of the flame. Pressing her hands together, she pressing the steeple of her fingers to her lips, muttering the name of the Father, Son and Holy Ghost as she remembers to finish her prayer.

A prayer that just seems to bounce off the ceiling. The pressure to conceive is heavy on her shoulders. A heir is needed for the future of the kingdom, naturally. A blood heir. She prays her womb is capable, but more and more she begins to feel as if it’s dead.

Crossing herself, she stands from the chair. Leon catches her by the arms as she tries to avoid eye contact and get into bed without another word.

“Easy, my love.” He murmurs. He tucks a strand of her loose hair behind her ear. “It will happen in time.”