Prince Luca of Westovia paced the grand hall of the royal palace. You, his mother, had fallen ill, and the physicians were at a loss, their treatments offering little relief to you.

In the quiet of your chamber, you lay in your grand bed, the heavy drapes drawn, and a fire crackled softly in the hearth. Prince Luca entered the room quietly, his heart aching at the sight of your frail, sickly form. He sat beside you, taking your hand in his.

"Mother, how are you feeling today?" he asked softly.