Her Graceful War Song by Summer's Blaze

Salvador's question hung heavy in the air, and for a long moment, Sebastian remained silent. His brow furrowed as he pondered, considering every possibility, weighing the odds.

The only sounds that filled the room were strained, shallow breaths and the pounding of hearts, creating a silence so profound it was suffocating and seemed to echo with despair.

At last, Sebastian slowly said, "There isn't really a solution. At best, there's a desperate gamble. But the chances of success... are very, very low."

"Tell us. Just say it," Victoria urged, even more anxious than Salvador.

Sebastian let out a deep sigh. "Even this gamble depends on him surviving the next three days. If he makes it through, I'll take him to Eldermere Keep. There, we will soak him in a brew made from the Everbind Herb, which grows only on those grounds. It might save his life. But the chances are slim. He may not last long enough to even get there."

"Can't we gather the Everbind Herb and bring it here? How would we move him in this condition?" Carissa asked.

Sebastian shook his head. "No, even though dried Everbind Herb has some effect, it needs to be brewed within an hour of being picked to unlock its full potential. It's said to have miraculous effects, but Prince Connor's injuries are too severe; even that might not be enough to save him."

He paused momentarily, then continued, "Should we choose this path, it will subject Prince Connor to excruciating pain. Even if he survives, he will never walk again. He will be bound to a life of constant medication, relying on the herbs from the keep. And he will be confined there, unable to leave, as required for the healing process."

Sebastian met Salvador's gaze, adding, "And I must be clear-if we choose this, I will not be able to return to the capital for at least a year."

In other words, the king would need to entrust his care to Sebastian's apprentices or the royal physicians during that time.

Salvador's face turned ashen, his features drawn and pale, drained of color. He gripped the arm of the chair with trembling hands.

the chances? How certain are you?"

flickered with reluctance. "Not much-not even one in ten. It's more like... a last-ditch

despair, Salvador's tears fell freely. As soon as he started crying, Victoria's own

troubled. They

should deliberate on this

a respectful bow,

son's pain

of survival was so minuscule-less than one in ten. Should

were so slim, should he abandon the idea

heart was torn, filled with confusion

crucial matter for the kingdom. As king, he couldn't let himself be consumed by grief. He still had to plan for

survived, he could never become the crown prince. The choice would have

matter

would always be a reminder of what had been lost, and there would always

your decision," Victoria's voice broke

tone choked

upon Salvador, waiting for his words. He sat in silence for what seemed like an eternity,

world that Connor has passed. Begin preparations for the funeral, and let him be buried with the

prince," he began