Chapter 4Where Goodbyes Bloom

The smile on my face suddenly froze, my mind as sluggish as a broken clock. My voice, when it emerged, was rusty as I savored those words, repeating them over and over.

"Isolde... Isolde."

"Arthur, you tricked me... You deceived me so cruelly."

My eyes were red-rimmed, and the moment the tears began to fall, I turned away, leaving Arthur only my back.

Stepping outside, the biting cold wind was like a flaying blade, slicing at my face again and again. I felt no pain, only a heavy suffocating sensation in my chest, and my vision blurred with unshed tears.

When Lionel was born, Arthur only came to see him once, and casually gave him his name. I still remembered Arthur saying that day, "To truly be a great King, one must have a heart as vast as the oceans, encompassing all the people."

I suddenly wanted to ask him: that day, when he saw Lionel, still an infant in swaddling clothes, did he truly intend to entrust this kingdom to him? Or was there a selfish motive, using our child to reminisce about his commoner companion?

Commoner companion. Commoner companion. It turned out that for three years, I had been the thief. I had stolen the identity of Arthur’s true love. All those vows of "a lifetime of togetherness," they were all lies, all falsehoods...

I stumbled back to my royal chambers. Lionel was sleeping soundly on the couch, his chubby face still muttering "Mama." I suddenly regretted bringing him into this world. His father did not love me, nor did he love him. The child of Princess Seraphina should not suffer such a fate.

Large tears dripped, soaking the bed, and carving scar after scar in my heart. I thought to myself that the woman in Arthur’s arms was not a docile soul; there would surely be endless troubles ahead. If Arthur still held even a fraction of affection for me, my situation in the palace might be tolerable. But if that affection was gone, then it would be a bitter dream, ending in a desolate and impoverished existence.

Just as I feared, as dawn barely broke, Arthur’s royal decree arrived at my chambers. He had broken his vows, and forgotten the promises made before my father’s throne. He declared that a King's vow was worth its weight in gold, and abandoning his faithful companion after achieving power would invite ridicule from the world. He urged me to be reasonable, not to force him into an impossible position. He also claimed he was thinking of me: I would retain the Queen's dignity, while Isolde, though lesser in rank, would reside in the West Wing. In the palace, status could be divided into noble and humble, but Arthur, in love, the unloved one is always the humble one. The humble, and the heartbroken.

Alas, Arthur’s words were too perfectly phrased, leaving me no room to rage or protest. I could only watch, humiliated, as Isolde appeared with jeweled combs in her hair and a grand red gown.