Was the old bastard finally going to die?
Only with the old king dead would absolute authority rest in his hands. No one would loom over him anymore; he would be the one, true sovereign of the realm!
He had waited a lifetime for this day.
"The court physicians are in the adjacent hall, discussing treatments," Steward Fulton replied.
A group of healers rushed in, dropping to their knees in a frightened flurry.
"Your Majesty, forgive us, but we fear the old king is—" one physician stammered, refusing to look up.
For two years, they had merely managed the symptoms, unable to find a cure. Now, his life was a candle burnt to the wick.
"He was in high spirits just a fortnight ago! He even insisted on visiting the family chapel!" the king roared in feigned fury.
How could they declare him dying after a mere two weeks?
The queen mother began to wail, lunging toward the bed. She tried to throw herself across him, but Jareth's kneeling form blocked her path.
"Open your eyes and look at me," she sobbed, mimicking the tone of a devoted wife.
"Your Majesty, we begged him not to go to the chapel," a physician pleaded. "He was not recovering; he forced his frail body through the ordeal by sheer will."
"Yes, Your Majesty. That day, fierce winds battered the Royal Capital, followed by a torrential downpour. He collapsed inside the chapel. That excursion sealed his fate."
The weather that day had been unnatural—a deafening rumble across the horizon, vicious gales tearing through the streets, and falling trees that claimed several lives.
Recalling the tempest still sent shivers down the spines of many in the palace.
Yet the old king had stubbornly demanded to enter the chapel alone. If Seraphina had not been passing by to offer prayers and sacred scrolls for the queen mother, he might have lain unconscious on the stone floor for hours before anyone noticed.
"Jareth, I saw them... the ancestors spoke in my dreams. The telluric currents of the earth... the kingdom's foundation... is broken... Jareth, promise me you will protect Valerius..."
The old king forced the words out in fragmented breaths.
"My king, you cannot leave us yet! You have not even seen Jareth take a wife and bear an heir!" the queen mother cried out. Catching sight of Seraphina lingering near the entrance, she waved her forward. "Seraphina, quickly!"
Seraphina's heart leapt into her throat. This was her moment, wasn't it?
Discarding all propriety, she dashed into the room. The queen mother grabbed her arm and dragged her to the bedside.
"My king, this is Lord Marquis's girl. You promised her to Jareth, did you not? Shall we have the king issue their marriage decree at once?"
Pressing down on Seraphina's shoulders, she forced the girl to her knees right beside Jareth.
"Your Highness," Seraphina breathed, "if our union can bring a blessing to save his life, I would marry you without hesitation!"

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