King ► N.RK

23

The days turned into a blur of responsibilities for Ni-ki. The palace, once a sanctuary, felt more like a battleground. Reports of the brewing rebellion flooded in daily, and each council meeting stretched longer than the last. The atmosphere was thick with tension, and Ni-ki, burdened by the weight of the kingdom, had little time for anything beyond his duties.

Hera tried to find moments to approach him, to share her thoughts and support him through the chaos. But each time she found him, he was consumed by the pressing matters of state. His face was often etched with worry, and his eyes, usually warm and inviting, appeared distant and troubled.

One evening, after a particularly grueling council session, Hera stood outside Ni-ki's chambers, her heart racing. She took a deep breath, steeling herself. This was her moment to reach out. As she knocked gently, she felt a surge of hope.

"Enter," came Ni-ki's voice, strained yet welcoming.

She stepped inside, the door closing softly behind her. Ni-ki sat at his desk, papers strewn about like leaves in a storm. He looked up, momentarily surprised to see her. "Hera," he said, his expression softening, though fatigue lingered in his eyes. "I didn't expect you. What brings you here?"

"I wanted to see how you were doing," she replied, taking a step closer. "You've been working so hard, and I thought maybe we could talk for a moment."

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I wish I could, but there's so much to manage right now. The council is demanding answers, and I can't afford to slip up. The kingdom is on the brink of chaos."

Hera felt a pang of disappointment but masked it with a reassuring smile. "I understand, but you need to take care of yourself too. You can't carry the weight of the kingdom alone."

Ni-ki's gaze drifted back to the papers, and she could see the turmoil behind his calm exterior. "I appreciate your concern, but I must prioritize the kingdom. I can't afford distractions, not now."

"Ni-ki..." she started, but he raised a hand.

"Please, Hera. I can't." His voice was firm but not unkind. "I have to focus on what's at stake."

Feeling helpless, Hera nodded, her heart sinking as she turned to leave. "I'll be here if you need me," she said quietly, hoping he would realize how much he needed her.

As she walked away, the weight of his rejection settled heavily on her shoulders. She couldn't shake the feeling of being sidelined, of not being enough. The castle's corridors felt cold and unwelcoming, and she longed for the warmth of connection that seemed to be slipping away.

Days passed, and Hera found herself spending more time with the high priests and council members as the tension in the palace escalated. Their discussions often revolved around strategy and the looming threat of rebellion, but whispers about her relationship with Ni-ki began to surface.

One afternoon, as she sat with the high priests in a lavish chamber adorned with sacred symbols, the conversation shifted to a topic that made her stomach churn.

"Hera," began High Priest Joon, his tone grave, "we need to address a matter of great importance regarding the future of the throne."

She straightened in her chair, sensing the gravity of his words. "What do you mean?"

"It has come to our attention that your relationship with the king is being scrutinized," Joon continued. "There are concerns about your suitability as a potential queen."

Hera's heart raced. "What do you mean? I care for Ni-ki, and he cares for me."

"Caring is not enough," interjected another council member, Lord Myung. "The king must produce an heir, and the lineage of that heir is paramount. You do not possess royal blood, and there are those who believe that Lady Lusi would be a far more suitable match."