Scene: Blackwood Palace – Royal Strategy Balcony Overlooking the Capital
POV: Amara Blackwood
Ten months.
Ten months of rule without his voice.
Ten months of commands given in his name.
Ten months of silence that the world had learned to fear—but that I had come to hate.
And now... tomorrow would be his birthday.
His first one in the coma.
His first one where his seat might still remain empty.
The people were preparing.
Fireworks had already been loaded.
Flags bearing his face had been raised across every district of the Blackwood Empire.
And yet… every celebration felt like a reminder that he wasn't here.
I stood on the strategy balcony, overlooking the capital. The whole city shimmered in shades of gold and crimson—Chris's colors. The sun was setting, but the lights below glowed with loyalty.
> "Your Majesty," a voice called behind me. It was Soren.
I didn't turn. I already knew what he would say.
> "Everything's in place for tomorrow. 9 AM procession. 11 AM national broadcast. Classic will lead the public address. You'll stand beside the throne."
> "And the throne itself?"
> "Left untouched, as you ordered."
Good.
> "And the people?" I asked.
> "They still believe. They're quiet, but loyal."
Quiet loyalty… it was something we'd mastered in this Empire.
But something about this birthday felt different.
I had been strong for ten months. Ruthless when needed. Merciful when useful. Unshakable when the ground trembled.
But tonight...
As the sun set on the eve of his birth...
I felt it.
The weight.
The loss.
The hope I hated admitting.
---
I dismissed Soren with a nod and entered the private lift that led down to the medical wing.
I walked the familiar corridor in silence, past the guards who now saluted out of habit.
His door opened.
And there he lay.
Still.
But not fragile.
Never fragile.
His hair had grown. His face was fuller. He didn't look dying—he looked like a King waiting for the right moment.
---
I sat beside him.
> "Tomorrow is your day," I whispered, brushing my hand across his cheek. "And the whole world will celebrate like you're just late to the banquet."
I paused.
Swallowed hard.
> "But if you don't wake up soon…"
> "You won't have a throne to return to."
> "I can't keep feeding the wolves without turning into one myself."
I leaned closer.
My voice softened.
> "Please, Chris. Don't make me do this alone."
---
And for the first time…
His finger twitched.
Just once.
I froze.
Pulled back. Watched.
No movement.
No follow-up.
Maybe I imagined it.
Maybe I didn't.
But I didn't sleep that night.
Because something deep inside me whispered—
> "Tomorrow... he might wake."
---