Chapter 200 CHAPTER 200
Sleep refused to come to Lisa.
She had tried.
She had laid on the neatly made bed in Liam’s quarters, staring at the ceiling as the quiet of the night stretched endlessly around her. The room itself was calm, far calmer than her thoughts, and there was nothing about the space that should have kept her awake. The bed was comfortable, the air still, and the faint glow of moonlight filtering through the window painted everything in soft, peaceful shadows.
But her mind would not rest.
It moved restlessly from one thought to another, circling the same worries over and over again until they began to blur into something heavier, something that settled deep in her chest and refused to loosen.
Her brother.
That was where her thoughts kept returning.
Ethan.
She turned slightly on her side, her fingers curling loosely against the blanket as she let out a quiet breath. In her mind, she could see him clearly, pacing back and forth across his room the way he often did when something weighed heavily on him. She could almost hear the soft rhythm of his footsteps against the floor, steady at first, then growing sharper as frustration built, his thoughts pulling him in too many directions at once.
She imagined him stopping near the window, staring out into the darkness as if answers might be waiting there, just beyond his reach. The kingdom rested under his care, and yet it felt as though it was slipping through his fingers piece by piece, burden after burden stacking itself on his shoulders without pause.
Lisa’s chest tightened slightly as she continued to picture it.
He must be tired.
Not just physically, but in a way that reached deeper, the kind of exhaustion that came from carrying too much for too long without relief.
Her gaze softened as another thought slowly formed.
Ethan had been carrying weight like this for most of his life.
The realization settled quietly but firmly in her mind, and once it took hold, it refused to leave. She had always known, in a distant and abstract way, that her brother had not lived an easy life, but she had never truly stopped to imagine what that meant in detail.
Now, as she lay there in the stillness of the night, she began to see it more clearly.
He had been ten years old when he lost his family.
Ten.
At that age, most children were still running freely through fields, laughing without a care, chasing small joys without understanding the heaviness of the world. They were allowed to cry when they were hurt, to mourn when they lost something, to lean on others when they did not understand what was happening around them.
But Ethan had not been given that.
Instead, he had been surrounded by elders who saw not a grieving child, but a future king.
Lisa closed her eyes slowly, her breathing growing softer as the image deepened.
While other children had played, Ethan had studied.
While others had been comforted, he had been trained.
She could almost see him sitting alone at a table, a book open in front of him, his small hands turning pages filled with laws, histories, and expectations that no child should have had to understand so soon. She could imagine the way the elders would have stood around him, watching, correcting, shaping him into something he had not yet had the chance to choose.
A ruler.
A leader.
A king.
Her lips curved into a faint, sad smile as she opened her eyes again.
All this time, she had believed her own life had been unfair.
She had thought of the attic in Silverpine, of the chores, of the quiet isolation that had defined her childhood. She had remembered the days spent working while others lived freely, the nights spent alone, wondering if life would ever change.
And it had been unfair.
She would not deny that.
But now, as she lay there thinking of Ethan, she realized something she had not allowed herself to consider before.
His life had not been fair either.
They had lived opposite lives in many ways, yet somehow they had both been trapped.
She had been treated as less than she was, forced into a life of servitude and silence.
He had been treated as more than he was ready to be, forced into a life of responsibility and control.
Different cages.
Same confinement.
The thought lingered, heavy but clear, and it changed something quietly inside her.
Her gaze drifted toward the ceiling again as another question formed, slower this time, more uncertain.
Was this punishment?
The idea came gently at first, then grew sharper as she followed it.
Their parents.
The past.
The bloodshed.
She remembered the stories, the whispers of what had happened years ago, the role their parents may have played in allowing darkness into the kingdom. She remembered the way the elders had spoken of it, the weight of truth that had only recently begun to surface.
And now…
Now everything seemed to be unraveling.
Lisa’s fingers tightened slightly against the blanket.
What if this was not a coincidence?
What if they were paying for something that had been set in motion long before they understood it?
She thought of the judgment Ethan had passed earlier that day, the way Vaughn’s betrayal had not only affected him, but his entire family. Titles stripped. Privileges taken. Consequences that extended beyond the individual.
Her heart sank slightly.
What if the same thing was happening to them?
What if the judgment had already been made, and it was their lives that were carrying the weight of it?
Her throat tightened.
“When does it end?” she whispered softly into the quiet room.
There was no answer.
Only the steady stillness of the night.
She pushed herself up slowly, the weight of her thoughts making it impossible to remain lying down any longer. Her feet touched the floor, and for a moment she simply stood there, uncertain, caught between impulse and hesitation.
She wanted to see him.
The thought came clearly this time, no longer hidden beneath everything else.
She wanted to go to Ethan, to check on him, to make sure he was not alone in whatever he was carrying.
But as quickly as the thought formed, doubt followed.
What would she say?
She had spent the last several minutes questioning the very nature of their lives, of their past, of things she did not fully understand. Bringing those thoughts to him now would not help. It might only add to the burden he was already struggling to carry.
She exhaled slowly and shook her head.
No.
Not like this.
Her lips curved slightly, a softer expression replacing the heaviness for a moment as another thought surfaced.
Isabel.
A faint smile touched her face despite everything.
It was almost amusing, in a quiet and unexpected way, that she found herself thinking of someone younger than her, someone who had only recently entered their lives, as the person who knew how to reach Ethan when he was like this.
Lisa let out a small breath that was almost a laugh.
Somehow, Isabel always knew what to say.
Somehow, she always knew how to step into the silence without breaking it.
The thought gave her just enough comfort to move.
She left Liam’s quarters quietly and made her way through the corridors of the palace, the familiar path feeling slightly different under the weight of the night’s thoughts. The halls were mostly empty, the guards stationed at their posts nodding respectfully as she passed, their presence steady and reassuring in the quiet.
When she reached her bedroom, she pushed the door open gently.
And then she stopped.
Ethan was there.
For a brief moment, she did not speak.
She simply watched.
He stood near the bed, Isabel held carefully in his arms, her body relaxed in sleep, her head resting lightly against his shoulder. There was nothing hurried or tense in the way he held her. Every movement was deliberate, careful, as though he was afraid to wake her, afraid to disturb the fragile peace she had fallen into.
The contrast struck Lisa immediately.
This was not the king the world saw.
This was not the man burdened by duty, weighed down by expectation, sharpened by responsibility.
This was something quieter.
Something gentler.
Ethan noticed her then.
His eyes met hers, and without a word, he lifted a finger to his lips, silently asking her to stay quiet.
Lisa nodded instinctively.
She stepped back slightly, allowing him space as he moved toward the bed. He lowered Isabel carefully onto the mattress, adjusting her position with a softness that spoke of something deeper than simple care. The blanket was pulled over her gently, his hand lingering for just a moment as he made sure she was comfortable.
Only then did he straighten.
He turned to Lisa and gestured toward the door.
She followed him out into the hallway without question.
The door closed softly behind them.
Lisa turned to him immediately, her curiosity clear.
“What are you doing in our room?” she asked quietly. “And why didn’t you want her to wake up?”
Ethan ran a hand through his hair, his expression shifting slightly, the calmness from a moment ago giving way to something more guarded.
“I didn’t want her to know I was there,” he said simply.
Lisa frowned.
“Why?”
He hesitated for a fraction of a second, then shook his head slightly.
“Not now.”
Her gaze lingered on him, searching.
“Do I even want to know?”
A faint, almost tired smile touched his lips.
“No,” he said. “Not at the moment.”
Lisa studied him for a moment longer, then nodded slowly.
Before she could ask anything else, Ethan spoke again.
“Do me a favor,” he said.
She tilted her head slightly.
“When she wakes up,” he said, “tell her it was you who brought her to the bed.”
Lisa blinked.
“What?”
“Just tell her it was you.”
“Why?”
Ethan looked away briefly, his jaw tightening slightly.
“Please, Lisa.”
The tone was enough to stop her.
“I’m asking you as your brother.”
The weight of that request settled between them.
Lisa held his gaze for a moment, then nodded.
“Alright,” she said quietly. “I’ll do it.”
A small silence followed.
Then she added softly, “When you’re ready to tell me what’s going on… I’ll be here.”
Ethan met her eyes again.
For a brief moment, something unspoken passed between them.
Then he nodded.
And without another word, he turned and walked away down the corridor.
Lisa remained standing there for a moment, watching him go, her thoughts heavier now, but clearer in a way they hadn’t been before.
Behind her, inside the room, Isabel slept peacefully, unaware of everything that had unfolded around her.
And somewhere between the silence and the unspoken truths, Lisa understood one thing with certainty.
They were all carrying more than they were saying.
And sooner or later… it would all have to surface.