Chapter 257: A different matter
Eilika gently broke the embrace, and Damian reluctantly let her go. "Why were you so intent on kissing me just now?" she asked softly, searching his gaze.
"Because I felt low today," Damian replied, his usual stoic facade slipping slightly.
Eilika kept her eyes fixed on him, her expression softening with understanding. "Is it because of the anniversary of your father’s passing?"
"Yes," he murmured, looking out toward the courtyard. "My mother must be mourning alone today. I am usually by her side during these difficult days, and it pains me that she was forced into widowhood so young. Though she has grown remarkably resilient over the years, as her son, I still harbor a deep resentment, perhaps toward fate, or the gods who decreed it."
Eilika gently placed her palm against his cheek, drawing his gaze back to her. "No one has power over death, Damian. What befell your father was a cruel tragedy, but his memory remains alive within us, and in the hearts of the people of Varos. Once we return home, we will take Mother out of the estate. She has always found solace in the gardening and farming, so we shall take her to the farmlands on a day when the skies are clear of rain."
"Yes, we shall do exactly that," Damian replied, leaning slightly into her touch as the tension left his shoulders. "Let us go inside," he murmured, guiding her back into the warmth of the chamber.
Damian unclasped his overcoat and draped it over the back of a nearby chair.
As he began folding his sleeves, his expression grew thoughtful. "I attempted to request an audience with my aunt, but she refused to see me. It seems she is deeply displeased with me."
"Because we are here to support Prince August," Eilika remarked, understanding the difficult position they were in.
"Kind of," Damian replied neutrally. He removed his shoes and finally sat back against the mattress, exhaling a long breath. "Dinner will be served shortly. I instructed the maidservant to set the table for us here," he stated.
"Shall I massage your feet?" Eilika asked, already moving to sit near the edge of the bed. But before she could reach them, Damian quickly pulled his legs up and crossed them out of her reach.
"Why would you do that?" Damian questioned, his tone shifting into one of firm disapproval. "It is entirely improper to let a woman touch your feet, most of all one’s own wife."
"You press my legs and feet whenever they feel sore," Eilika pointed out, looking up at him with a raised brow.
"That is a completely different matter," Damian replied.
He then leaned forward and pulled her close by her waist. "Sit here. Next to me."
Eilika crawled across the mattress and settled tightly against his side, resting her head comfortably on his shoulder. "Damian, the palace is so quiet. I think if we were forced to live here permanently, it would have been stifling. Besides, I have not even met the Crown Princess yet. The last time I saw her, she had just announced her pregnancy."
"The Crown Princess is in her seventh month now, so the entire court’s focus is on ensuring her safety. I believe she is away from the palace at the moment, resting at her parental residence," Damian explained.
"Oh. Then it seems I will miss the chance to meet her this time as well," Eilika said, a hint of disappointment in her voice.
They heard a knock, and Eilika sat straight.
"Your Grace, I have set the dinner table for both of you," the maidservant announced from outside.
"Let’s have dinner," Damian said, "then we will head out."
~~~~
August gestured for the maidservant to stop as she held up another spoonful of the bland soup. He craved something sharp, spicy, and salty, not this entirely tasteless broth. Yet, given his current physical state, the physicians would never permit such rich food until he had fully recovered.
"I have had enough," he said, turning his head away.
"Your Highness, you have not even finished half the bowl," Thomas noted, stepping forward anxiously.
"Because I cannot stomach this kind of food anymore," August replied, his brow furrowing as a wave of discomfort hit him. "Just give me the medicine for the pain. Suddenly, it hurts terribly."
Thomas did not argue with the prince and quietly administered the medicine with a glass of water, while the maidservant picked up the tray and left the chamber.
"Did Father have his meals?" August asked, pulling away from the glass once he had swallowed the tonic.
"Yes, Your Highness. You would scarce believe how the King waited by your bedside for you to wake the entire night. I have never seen His Majesty so deeply troubled. He loves you dearly," Thomas stated, offering a small smile.
August felt a strange weight in his chest upon hearing those words. He could not help but wonder: how had Queen Victoria allowed her husband to stay by his side for so long?
"Your Highness, you should rest now," Thomas said softly, turning off the main lights and leaving only the bedside lamp to cast a dim glow. He bowed, walked out, and closed the heavy doors quietly behind him.
"I hope Damian has done his work," August murmured, tapping his fingers restlessly against the duvet. "But what happened to the Crown Prince and Sylvian? How can they suddenly show care toward me?"
He shifted his weight and, with a sharp intake of breath, managed to sit up despite the difficulty. His entire back ached terribly from being confined to the mattress for so many hours.
Stepping out of bed, he walked with slow, guarded steps toward the balcony and sank into a chair. Looking out into the dark night, he muttered, "If I fail to prove the truth, I will be imprisoned tomorrow," and let out a chuckle. "Will God help me this once? But does he even exist? He never once was on my side when I begged him to."