The castle hall was adorned with tapestries that whispered tales of bygone eras, as King Baldwin strode alongside his trusted advisor, William. Their steps echoed against the polished stone floors, a rhythmic cadence that underscored the weight of the day’s concerns. As they walked, their conversation wove a tapestry of its own-a tapestry woven with both admiration and a hint of melancholy.

A beautiful breeze wafted the laughter and chatter from the garden into the grandeur of the castle’s halls. Philippa and her Ladies in Waiting had decided to spend the afternoon outside, their tea a delicious elixir that blended with the scents of blooming flowers.

Baldwin’s gaze drifted toward the garden, his eyes resting on the figure of his Queen. There she was, surrounded by nature’s splendour, her smile a beacon of light that seemed to chase away the shadows that frequently obscured his mind. A feeling of sadness washed over him as his heart swelled with longing.

He turned to William, his confidant and witness to the complexities of his thoughts. “Look at her,” Baldwin muttered, his tone tinged with affection and resignation. “She is far too perfect, and I am unfit to stand beside her.”

William gave the King a knowing look, his eyes reflecting the empathy he felt. “You know that is not true,” he said firmly, his loyalty clear in his words. “Your love for the kingdom and determination to fulfil your duties make you worthy in every way.”

Baldwin let out a conflicted sigh as he continued to watch Philippa from a distance. “William, I am well aware of my responsibilities, but the spectre of my illness-” William interrupted gently, “Your Queen sees you as you truly are, not just as a King, but as a man.”

Baldwin’s gaze was riveted on Philippa, his heart a mixture of admiration and dread. He was caught between his heart’s desire and the burden of his disease. “I made up my mind,” he said finally, his voice heavy with the weight of his decision.

So he continued to walk away from the garden, each step a monument to the internal war that raged within him. His heart wanted to be closer to Philippa, to enjoy her company without the overhanging shadow of his illness. However, the fear of exposing her to his condition held him back, acting as a protective barrier that he couldn’t break through.

And yet, in the isolation of the castle hall, he wrestled with the weight of his choices, the weight of a love that was both a source of solace and a thorn in his heart.

Philippa’s POV:

I eventually retired to the sanctity of my private chamber after a day full with royal chores and interactions with my ladies-in-waiting. The flickering candlelight threw delicate dancing shadows on the walls, creating a serene tranquilly.

The conversations with the ladies, the laughter, and the shared stories seemed to linger in the air, adding a touch of warmth to the room. I had always found solace in these private moments, where the weight of my royal responsibilities could be set aside. As I Anticipate the arrival of my husband, Baldwin.

However, as time went, Baldwin’s absence became more noticeable, and a sense of restlessness crept into my thoughts. My heart, which was typically soothed by his company, was suddenly tinged with anxiety. Was he held up by a pressing matter? Or was it the difficulties of royal duty that kept him back? I thought to myself.

I sat in a wooden chair by the window with a deep sigh, the pleasant breeze spreading the aroma of blossoming flowers into the room. The candles cast delicate shadows on the exquisite furnishings, creating a cosy environment. I took a few moments to gather my thoughts and appreciate the peace before my gaze was taken to the elaborate mirror on the vanity.

As the sun set over the royal palace, throwing a soft glow throughout the halls, I found myself back at my vanity. My long, ebony hair cascaded in waves over my shoulders, a testament to the hours my servants had spent grooming me. I absently picked up a silver comb and began to brush it through my hair, the rhythmic motion soothing me as I lost myself in my thoughts. My mind wandered, a mixture of excitement and worry.

I gazed in the mirror, my Hazel eyes meeting my own, and wondered whether tonight would be any different. Our relationship had gone through various phases since my marriage to King Baldwin, impacted by duty, circumstance, the complexities of the royal court, and a kiss we had under the old tree.

My fingers absentmindedly traced my red lips, my thoughts shifting to that intimate kiss that we shared. We had faced numerous challenges as a couple-political alliances, courtly expectations, and, most notably, his illness. I will always admire his strength and his dedication to the kingdom, even as his health wavered. Tonight was meant to be a continuation of our bond, an opportunity for intimacy and closeness. However, a sense of unease lingered in the air. indicating that something was amiss.

However, My daydreams were soon interrupted by the soft rustle of fabric and the hushed voices of My maid Emma and Sir Omar. Intrigued, I turned my attention toward the door, my eyes widening slightly in surprise.

“Your Majesty,” Emma started, her voice respectful but urgent, “we apologise for intruding, but there is an urgent matter that Lord Omar needs to speak with you.”

I set the comb aside, my curiosity piqued. “Please, do go on,” I said, gesturing for them to proceed.

Omar, standing by Emma’s side, cleared his throat before speaking, his expression carrying a mix of concern and duty. As the evening descended upon the royal palace, casting a gentle glow across the chambers.

“Your Majesty,” Omar began, his voice gentle yet laden with a weight that caught my attention. “I come with news, though I fear it may not be entirely what you wish to hear.”

My heart skipped a beat, and my gaze never left Omar’s. “Please, Omar, speak freely,” I implored, my voice steady despite my racing thoughts.

Omar took a deep breath, his expression conveying a mix of sympathy and understanding. “It is with a heavy heart that I inform you that King Baldwin will not be joining you in your chambers tonight,” he revealed, his words carefully chosen.

My brow furrowed in puzzlement. This was unexpected, and a pang of disappointment washed over me. “May I inquire as to the reason?” I inquired, my tone tinted with inquiry and concern.

Omar nodded, his face filled with empathy and understanding. “He is attending to matters that require his immediate attention, matters concerning the welfare of the kingdom.”

My expression softened as I took in the gravity of the situation. The demands of the kingdom frequently took precedence, and I admired Baldwin’s dedication to his duties as king. “Of course,” I said with a nod, a tinge of sadness in my voice.

“Additionally, Lady Agnes, the King’s mother, has advised that you be temporarily removed of your duties as the King’s healer, as she believes that, as Queen, your focus should be directed towards your royal obligations,” Omar said.

My heart sank as I absorbed the information. The weight of the situation settled upon my shoulders, and I felt a mixture of emotions-confusion, disappointment, and a growing sense of unrest. I understood the complexities of my position, the expectations that came with my role, yet it was difficult to dismiss the significance of my bond with the King, both as a spouse and as a healer.

Upon hearing the main reason why Lady Agnes wanted my removal as a member of the King’s court, I took a moment to absorb the information. I understood that Lady Agnes may have been motivated by concern for my well-being and my duties as a Queen. However, I was torn between my passion for medicine and my role as a Queen.

As the weight of the news settled within me, My thoughts became a swirling tempest of emotions. I turned to face Omar, My eyes reflecting a mixture of contemplation and the turmoil within my heart. After a moment of silence, I finally spoke, my voice carrying a tone of vulnerability and resolve.

“I see,” I said, my voice composed. “Omar,” I began, my words measured yet tinged with emotion, “I appreciate Lady Agnes’ concern, but being a healer is not just a duty for me-it’s a calling and a part of who I am. I believe that I can balance both responsibilities as Queen and Pharmacologist.”

“Healing and caring for others through medicine is something that brings me great fulfilment. I want to use my skills to help those in need and contribute to the well-being of the kingdom. It is my duty as Queen to serve and protect our people, and I believe that includes using my knowledge as a pharmacologist.”

I came to a halt, my gaze drawn to the dimly lighted chamber beyond. “Yet, I can’t help but feel the sense of loss that comes with it; being a healer has been both a way to contribute to the kingdom’s well-being and a way to connect with Baldwin.”

Omar’s POV:

Lady Philippa’s words were tinged with honesty, her internal struggle evident in her voice. She turned her gaze back to me, meeting my eyes with a mixture of determination and vulnerability.

It has been a bridge that allowed us to share not only our duties but our hearts, she continued. “I have always believed that the bond between a healer and a patient is a profound one, and in this case, a bond between husband and wife as well.”

A conflicted smile played on her lips. “Perhaps it’s selfish of me to wish for both-to fulfill my duties as Queen while still holding onto the role that has allowed me to support Baldwin in a unique way.”

As I watched her Majesty’s reaction, my presence remained a constant anchor in the room. “Your Majesty, I understand that these are difficult issues,” I responded, my voice sympathetic. “However, please know that you are not alone in this; we are here to support you, and your commitment to the well-being of the kingdom remains unwavering.”

Philippa nodded, her thoughts a whirlwind of conflicting emotions. She appreciated Omar’s reassurance, his loyalty evident in his words. As the moments passed, she looked once more at her reflection, her gaze meeting her own eyes in the mirror.

The castle was bathed in the soft glow of moonlight, a tranquil scene that contrasted with the bustling day that had passed. Within the stone walls, King Baldwin remained immersed in his duties, a solitary figure hunched over his desk in the dimly lit office. The weight of the kingdom’s affairs had kept him there, the passage of time slipping away unnoticed.

Amid the stacks of parchment and flickering candles, Aimery, the King’s loyal chamberlaine, quietly entered the room. His steps were purposeful yet respectful, and he cleared his throat gently to capture Baldwin’s attention.

“Your Grace,” Aimery’s voice broke through the stillness, his presence a reminder of the world beyond the realm of paperwork and responsibilities. “It is well into the night. You’ve been at your duties for hours. I suggest you take some rest.”

Baldwin’s POV :

My tired eyes raised from the pages, a mixture of exhaustion and determination in them. I sighed, realising Aimery’s comments were true. “You are right, Aimery; I have once again lost track of time.”

With a nod, Aimery continued, “The affairs of the kingdom can wait until the morning. Your well-being is of utmost importance.”

I stood up, pushing the papers in front of me away. “Very well,” I conceded, “I shall retire for the night.”

As I walked out of my desk, I was immersed in silence. The only sound in the passageways was the gentle echo of my footsteps. However, as I passed by Philippa’s bedroom door, I hesitated, my steps hesitant.

Aimery, ever attentive, noticed my pause and spoke softly, “I’ll wait for you outside, Your Grace.”

I nodded his appreciation before I pushed open the door and entered the dimly lit chamber.