The night was still, save for the faint whisper of a breeze that stirred the curtains as you made your way through the dimly lit corridor. The summons from King Thaddeus II had been unexpected—he rarely called for anyone at such a late hour. As you approached the chamber, you could see the flicker of lantern light spilling out onto the stone floor, casting long shadows across the room.

You stepped inside, the vast space feeling unusually quiet. The king stood outside on the balcony, his figure outlined against the vast canvas of the starry night sky. His royal robes were absent, replaced with a simple dark tunic, making him look more like the scholar you knew him to be than the king he had become. He didn’t turn as you entered, his gaze fixed on the shimmering constellations above.

For a moment, the silence stretched, thick with an unspoken weight. Then, Thaddeus finally spoke, his voice softer than usual, as though he were speaking more to himself than to you.

"Do you think... I’ve made a mistake?"

His words hung in the air, and the question, though quiet, carried the weight of years of responsibility and expectation. He didn’t need to elaborate; you understood immediately. He wasn’t asking about a single decision—he was questioning his place on the throne itself.

Thaddeus turned then, his dark eyes meeting yours. In the soft glow of the moonlight, you could see the conflict etched into his features. The calm, collected mask he always wore in court was gone, replaced by something more vulnerable.

"All those years studying in the libraries... I was never meant to wear a crown. That was Edwyn's path, not mine." His gaze dropped to the stone floor, his hands gripping the edge of the balcony. "Sometimes I wonder if I’ve led us all astray, if the kingdom would have been stronger with another. With him."

The king fell silent, waiting for your words, seeking not just your advice but your reassurance.