Naseria lay on the bed of their lodging, lost in thought about the victims of the Harrowsouls. Time felt like it stood still.
Odessa entered the room, breaking the silence. "Hello, Miss. We will be leaving soon. Sir Silas will stay here for a bit to take care of everything."
Naseria nodded in response. As dusk fell, they traveled by carriage, the only sound being the rhythmic clip-clop of the horses' hooves against the dirt road. They ate dinner in silence, each lost in their own thoughts. By midmorning, they arrived at Casca Port and made their way directly to Casca.
Once they reached Naseria’s room, Odessa turned to her. "Rest well, Miss."
"You can stay here," Naseria offered.
"I can?" Odessa replied, surprised.
"The bed is big; we can both fit," Naseria said with a small smile. Odessa beamed and nodded her agreement.
Later, Naseria was jolted awake by Odessa gently shaking her.
"Wha—what happened?" Naseria asked, still groggy.
"You were having a bad dream," Odessa explained softly.
Naseria nodded, embarrassment creeping in. "Sorry."
"It's okay," Odessa reassured her, offering a comforting smile.
"Want to eat outside?" Odessa asked, attempting to cheer her up. "Might help free those bad thoughts."
Naseria scoffed but nodded. "Alright. Wait for me outside. I'll bring the food," Odessa said, heading off.
Naseria took Stark, cradling him as she stepped outside. She caught sight of the gazebo, her gaze slipping into the emptiness of her thoughts. King Theon approached her quietly, a small smile on his face.
"A penny for your thoughts?" he asked, but she ignored him.
After a moment, he spoke again. "I’ve heard everything... I—I am sorry."
"Why do you keep apologizing?" Naseria asked sharply.
"I don’t know. Maybe I feel bad?" he replied, almost questioning himself.
"For what? Being an irresponsible king?" she challenged.
Theon’s shoulders slumped. "Yes, I am an irresponsible king. I am responsible for everything. I’ve ruled this kingdom for years, and still, I can't fix its problems. Now, the Harrowsouls have crossed into our borders."
He took a shaky breath. "My supreme commander and advisor are far away, studying the sea. You, Silas, and Miss Odessa are out here, fighting against the Harrowsouls. And what is my role? To be a king who dictates people’s movements? I feel useless. Why did they choose me? Ishaan, or someone more qualified, should’ve taken the throne."
He looked down, his voice soft. "I am sorry."
"There you go again with the apologies," Naseria said, shaking her head. "What does apologizing do? Does it make you a better king?"
"Maybe... my godfather’s and family’s sins will haunt me forever," Theon replied, looking troubled.
"And will 'sorry' atone for all the mistakes your family made?" Naseria pressed.
"I’m just hopeful," he murmured.
Naseria sighed, her gaze hardening. "Was it you who made those mistakes? Did you lead soldiers to kill everyone who opposed the throne?"
Theon shook his head, a flicker of pain crossing his face.
Naseria sighed, rubbing her temples. "Why do I always end up lecturing?" She looked at him, softening. "Look, kid, maybe all of this does fall on your shoulders—but it was never your fault. You were too young to know any of it back then. Now, you're an adult. All you can do is choose a path that leads you to be better."
