Duke stood on the balcony of his ancestral castle, the sun dipping below the horizon and painting the sky in hues of molten orange and dusky purple. But his mind wandered far from the view. In his hands rested a letter—worn, creased, and softened at the edges from countless readings. An echo from a past long buried, yet searingly vivid.
He unfolded the parchment, and the familiar, looping script of Finley appeared before his eyes. He began to read.
---
My Dearest King,
As I sit here with my quill poised above this parchment, I find myself lost in the sweet memories of our time together. Each moment we shared lingers like a melody in my heart—a symphony I long to replay again and again.
Duke could almost hear the laughter they'd shared, the murmured secrets whispered into the night.
I remember the way your fingertips would trace my skin, lighting fires beneath the surface. How you'd hold me, your breath warm against my neck. The taste of your lips—sweet and addictive—deepened the bond that beat between us. The scent of your sweat, the rhythm of you moving inside me... it sent waves of rapture through my soul.
What we shared was more than desire. It was surrender—aching, beautiful, and raw. Our secret meetings, those stolen kisses and whispered promises, were the brightest parts of my days. Every letter I sent carried the weight of my love for you, proof of the bond we forged amid the chaos of our lives.
You brought light to my heart and music to my soul. And I dream—still—of a time when we can create more memories together.
Your love lifts me like helium.
Until we meet again, know that you are always in my thoughts. My heart beats in time with the rhythm of our love.
Yours forever,
Finley
---
Duke exhaled slowly and folded the letter with careful reverence. He turned his gaze back to the kingdom stretched before him, its villages and valleys bathed in twilight's glow.
"Duke," came a soft voice, gentle as a breeze. He turned to see Elara standing at the threshold.
"What's that?" she asked, her eyes flicking to the letter in his hand.
"A letter," he said, a wistful smile touching his lips.
"A letter?" she echoed, intrigued. "Can I see?"
She scoffed playfully at his silence, her eyes sparkling with mischief. But before he could answer, the heavy doors flew open, and a guard burst into the chamber, breathless and pale.
He bowed low. "Your Grace. Lady Elara."
Duke stepped forward, a knot forming in his chest. "What is it?"
The guard's voice trembled. "It's… Malen, Your Majesty."
Duke's blood turned to ice. "What about him? Speak!"
"He's dying, sire."
The words crashed into Duke like a wave.
"Malen—no!" The letter fell from his grasp as he stormed past Elara and the guard, heart pounding.
Elara remained still, stunned, her eyes locked on the letter now lying forgotten on the floor.
Duke tore through the dim corridors of the castle, urgency thundering in his veins. He burst into the great hall, where murmurs and frantic movement swirled around a prone figure.
Malen lay on the stone floor, blood seeping beneath him, his skin pale, breath shallow.
"No, no—Malen!" Duke dropped to his knees, his hands trembling as he gathered him into his arms. "What happened? Please, talk to me!"
Malen's once-vibrant eyes were dimmed with pain. A single tear traced a path down his cheek as he looked up at his brother.
"Stay with me," Duke pleaded, gripping his hand tightly. "Stay."
Malen stirred, weakly reaching up to clasp Duke's hand.
"Get the physician!" Duke roared, voice cracking. "Now!"
Just then, Queen Ashley entered, her gown trailing behind her in haste. She froze at the sight—her son cradling Malen's limp body.
"Duke?" she whispered, horror creeping into her voice. "What's—"
"Malen!" Duke sobbed, pressing his forehead to his brother's. "Please. Don't leave me. Don't."
Malen's lips parted, voice a whisper from the edge of the abyss. "In the basement… beneath the box… you'll find a letter there… all you need to know…"
His breath hitched. "I'm so sorry, brother…"
"No—no, no!" Duke shook him gently, trying to will the life back into him.
But Malen's final breath slipped from his lips. His body stilled.
A terrible silence fell.
"Call the physician!" Duke screamed again, but the cry was hollow now, echoing uselessly through stone a
nd shadow.
He clutched Malen's lifeless form, tears streaming down his face. "Malen…"