The queen was already sitting vigil by the time Eric arrived. Queen Helena still maintained enough of her youthful beauty to be rather stunning, though her LONG blond hair was liberally streaked with grey, and no amount of moisturizers could completely do away with the crow's feet around her eyes.
Her grey eyes were as sharp as ever. It hadn't been until he was twenty that Eric had realized he'd never gotten anything past her that she hadn't wanted him to. As the Queen of Sorrow, she'd never been anything less than elegant and calm, even when his father was having a strop and the rest of the capital was running scared.
She'd held the palace together when Jacques had fallen ill on previous occasions and put forward a face of stone when her children had started dying off. She tracked down those responsible for the deaths of Eric's two eldest siblings, and they'd been dealt with quietly, their surviving family members fallen so far from favor that they'd fled the capital in the night. She was still looking for the one behind the death of Eric's last brother.
He had no doubt she would find them eventually.
Eric had offered to help her, but she'd wanted him to focus on preparing to rule instead.
He crossed to her side quickly and pressed a kiss to her cheek as Will closed the door behind them and faded into the shadows.
Helena cast him an amused glance. "There's no need to hide yourself, William. Come pay your respects in the light."
Will stepped out and bowed quickly, once to Helena and once to Jacques.
Eric spoke before his poor agent was forced to speak. "What happened?"
Helena allowed it, patting him gently on the arm. "He's been feeling off for days. It came on slowly, thankfully. He was hoping Francis would be back before it took him, but he's still a week's travel away. At least."
"I'll find out," Will said quietly and stepped out.
There was a pleased gleam in Helena's eyes. "Such a smart young man."
"Mother."
She tutted but dropped it. Eric stepped closer to the bed, studying his father. He'd always seemed larger than life when Eric was a child. It hadn't been until he'd become an adult himself that he'd realized his father was just a man. A great one, but still as human as the rest of them. The great Sun of Sorrow felt the same fear as the rest of them, perhaps even more, as he always talked about his responsibility to the people who followed him.
He'd been terribly jealous and often petty in the morning and wise and merciful in the evenings. He'd forced Eric's oldest brother to study every day in preparation to be king, but when Eric had become heir, he'd allowed him to learn in his own way.
He forgave Uncle Francis over and over, even though his brother had never shown any sign of remorse or changed his ways. At the same time, he took vicious swipes at his brother where he knew it hurt most.
Eric's relationship with his own siblings had been much friendlier, thank the rock. It had been hard enough surviving to adulthood; he couldn't imagine having to do it while combating his siblings at the same time.
Now, Jacques' skin was pale and shiny with sweat. His eyes sunken, his veins protruding like they were trying to force their way through his skin. He'd never looked quite this bad before. Even though the blankets, Eric could see he'd lost weight.
"Why didn't either of you tell me?"
Helena sighed. "There was no point in worrying you until we knew for sure."
Eric bit back the urge to snap at her. He'd brought it up to both of them before when they'd withheld the news about his siblings, but they never listened.
Now, wasn't the time anyway.
He reached out and picked up his father's hand, holding it carefully between his own. Nothing but skin and bones, it felt like he could crush it with just a squeeze. "What did the doctor say?"
"To prepare for the worst." Helena stood and poured herself a small glass of the fermented wheat whisky that his father favored.
"He says that every time."
"And every time he gets a bit closer to being right." Helena downed the entire glass and poured another. "Your father has been preparing for this for a long time. It's brought him great comfort how well you've adapted to the changes in your situation."
Eric glanced at her. "There was little choice."
Helena rubbed his back in comfort. "Still, you handled it with more grace than most would have."
"Have you found them yet?" There was no need to say who; his mother knew exactly who he spoke of.
Her answering smile reminded him of the battlefield. "I am closing in. I had hoped to have it resolved before your father passed, so he would know as well, but he understands."
A soft knock alerted them to Will's return. Helena beckoned him in.
"They're nine days away. They can't travel faster because of the babe." Will said.
"We could send a rider." Eric mused.
Helena shook her head. "No, there is no point. Francis is not a skilled enough rider to make up the difference, and the King does not need to deal with him in this state."
"We should send a message to Eirian at least."
Helena nodded at that. "Best to tell her just to come as soon as possible. She can stay for the funeral. And the coronation."
Eric flinched. "He might not-"
"It is time," Helena stated, firm. "You're father is aware. Even if he recovers this time, the spells are becoming more frequent and last longer each time. He is ready to step aside, even if he survives this."
Eric turned away from her, to his father, so small and helpless in his sickbed.
Will stayed quiet, but his mere presence was comforting.
"It's time for you to become king," Helena said softly.
~ tbc