Heir

Chapter 1, Scene 9

Deidra hurried through the east wing of Highcastle Keep, anxious to learn why the king had summoned her. It was late in the afternoon, and the setting sun painted the corridor in red through arched windows. The handmaiden recalled what the princess had told her of her dream the night before – the king’s throne empty, the castle in flames, war, death, and no sign of the princes. Combined with this sudden summons from King Caiden, such thoughts left her deeply troubled.

The heavy oak doors of the king’s bedchamber creaked open as Deidra drew near. A man stepped out and quietly closed the doors behind him. He was Balderik, the Steward of Highcastle, an older man whose wavy black hair now showed ample grey. He was Queen Morwyn’s brother and Caiden’s closest advisor.

“I came as soon as I was asked for.” Deidra explained. “Tell me, how is the king?”

“Ah, he is not well.” Balderik shook his head slowly. “His condition grows worse each day. He has asked me to summon the princes. I will send messengers right away.”

Deidra knew what that meant: the king believed that his death was near.

“Perhaps…” Deidra hesitated as she contemplated for a moment. “Perhaps I should take the children and inform Prince Kylian myself. You know how… sensitive he can be.”

Deidra knew well the unpredictability of Kylian’s moods, but she also knew that she had to confide in one of the princes the details of Princess Carys’ dream, and Kylian would be the most likely to take the omens seriously.

“A good idea.” Balderik agreed. “I will see to the arrangements. Now, go in. The king is waiting for you. And, if you are able, try to get him to take his medicine. He refuses to have any more of it, but it may mean the difference between his living to see his sons arrive or not.”

Deidra nodded her acknowledgement and then softly pushed the heavy doors open to slip inside. When her slight figure had cleared the narrow opening, she quietly closed the doors behind her again. The king’s bedchamber was dark, lit only by a few wavering candles. She could barely make out the shape of the king where he lay in his bed beneath several blankets. Sitting on the edge of the bed, she moved one of the candles closer so that she could see his face. What a contrast she saw to the man she had known. The candle cast deep shadows on his sunken features. His skin had grown pale and the hair of both his head and his beard looked as if it were falling out in clumps. The corners of his mouth were pulled into a perpetual frown. At first he appeared to be sleeping, but his eyes fluttered open as the candle drew closer.

“Deidra, is that you?” King Caiden’s voice was weak and raspy, a mere shadow of the deep, boisterous tone she remembered. His eyes seemed to search for her in the dark but never quite met with hers.

“Yes, My King, I am here.”

“Oh, Deidra, I am glad you came.” Each word seemed a labor for the king to get out. “I fear that my time is nearly up.”

“Do not say so, Oh King.” Deidra tried to hush him. “You may yet recover.”

“Tell me…” The king paused to muster his strength. “Tell me, how is my daughter?”

“She grows more beautiful every day.” The handmaiden answered. “She… she dreams now. Like the queen did.”

“Oh, my poor wife.” King Caiden lamented. “It brings me no joy to think that Carys may follow in her footsteps there. You must look out for the girl, Deidra. You must not let anyone else know.”

“Yes, My King.” Deidra agreed wholeheartedly.

“And what of the boy? What of Roan?”

“Roan is the most handsome boy I’ve ever seen. He takes after you for a certainty. And he is so kind and gentle.” Deidra beamed as she spoke of him.

“Ah, it gladdens my heart to hear you say so.” The faintest hint of a smile crept onto the king’s lips. This serene moment was suddenly broken by a fit of coughing that overtook the king. Deidra searched desperately for any way to sooth him, and remembered Balderik’s mention of the king’s medicine. She quickly spotted the small glass bottle and a spoon resting on the king’s nightstand. Uncorking the bottle, she poured a spoonful.

“Here, take this.” She suggested, but the king only turned his face away and struggled to raise a hand in protest. Deidra watched helplessly until the coughing fit subsided.

“I won’t take another drop of that stuff.” Caiden finally said. “It’s not doing me any good.”

Deidra frowned. She carefully emptied her spoonful of the medicine back into the bottle and replaced the cork.

“Deidra, sweet Deidra.” Caiden mumbled, as he gathered all of his strength to lift his hand just high enough to brush against the woman’s cheek.

“You must promise me.” He said. “You must promise to care for Roan. I am entrusting him completely to you. No harm must come to the boy. Do you understand?”

“Of course.” The handmaiden assured him as she took his hand in both of hers. She pressed it just a little more firmly against her cheek before gently returning it to his side. The king breathed a very deep sigh and then closed his eyes again. Deidra sat with him a while longer and cried.