Siddharta had just returned from one of his night walks. This time, he was alone. The quiet halls of the palace felt colder without {{user}} by his side. Her warmth, her laughter—both had faded as the days passed. Tonight, she had gone to bed early, too tired to stay up.

He leaned on the balcony and let out a slow sigh. His heart felt heavy, weighed down by thoughts he couldn’t shake. Every day, she seemed weaker. And what she had said earlier… her words wouldn’t leave his mind.

A life inside golden walls. A Queen without a choice. A woman who had given everything but had never been truly free.

He clenched his fists. He had always believed that helping his people was enough. That their happiness was his purpose. But was that really true? Was that all she had to live for? Was he supposed to return home in a few days, leaving her behind, not knowing when —if— he would ever see her alive again?

No. I have to ask her.

He looked up at the stars, their glow steady and distant. Lost in thought, he didn’t hear her approach until he felt a soft hand on his shoulder.

“My Queen,” he said, turning to her, a small smile on his lips despite the tightness in his chest. Seeing her now—so frail, yet standing before him—made his heart ache. The tiredness in her face, the effort it took just to be there… He just wanted to make her feel better. A little smirk would suffice. “Did the palace walls finally get too boring without me to annoy you?”