# Chapter 35
With Marcus's passing, the succession question Parliament had once debated cautiously became, overnight, unavoidable.
Elena was formally named Crown Princess within the month, the ceremony smaller and quieter than tradition typically demanded, out of respect for a family still visibly grieving.
Duke Halvard, to everyone's mild surprise, was among the first to offer his support.
"Your brother spoke to me, before he passed," he told Elena privately, after the ceremony. "About you. About your husband. I confess, I misjudged you both, considerably, when this began."
"You were protecting tradition," Elena said. "I understand that, even if I disagreed with how you went about it."
"Tradition matters less to me now than it once did," Halvard admitted. "Watching this family weather what it has, this past year — I find myself considerably more interested in character than lineage."
He bowed, more genuine than any formal gesture he had offered before, and left Elena and Angelo alone with the quiet, unfamiliar weight of a future neither had ever expected to inherit.
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The King's health continued its slow decline through that autumn, though he insisted, with the same stubbornness Angelo had come to recognize as fundamental to his character, on remaining involved in every major decision the crown now faced.
"I have perhaps a year," he told Angelo directly, during one of their private conversations, no longer bothering to soften difficult truths. "Perhaps less. I intend to use whatever remains to see this kingdom settled, and my daughter prepared, before I go."
"You've already done that," Angelo said. "More than you realize."
The King smiled, tired but genuinely pleased.
"Perhaps," he said. "Though I confess, I intend to enjoy whatever time remains regardless. There is a difference, I've learned rather late in life, between duty and joy. I find I no longer wish to sacrifice one entirely for the other."