The corridors of the palace were nearly silent, bathed in the gentle glow of lanterns that lined the stone walls. Castin moved slowly toward Elizabeth's temporary chambers, every step feeling heavier than the last. He paused just outside her door, the smooth wooden pendant belonging to Edgar resting heavily in his palm.
He hesitated, unsure of how to proceed. His throat tightened painfully as he stared down at the small carving, its familiar texture feeling foreign in his hand.
"You seem uncertain, Castin," the calm voice of the Rat King gently interrupted his thoughts.
Castin turned to see The Rat King approaching quietly from the shadows, his eyes warm with understanding. He stood patiently, studying Castin's expression with quiet empathy.
"I don't know how to do this," Castin admitted quietly, his voice thick with emotion. "She's already lost so much. How do you tell someone news like this without destroying them?"
The Rat King exhaled softly, his paw coming to rest comfortingly on Castin's shoulder. "There is no easy way to deliver a message like this, my friend. But of all the people here, you are perhaps best suited to understand Elizabeth's grief. You've walked this path yourself. Speak from your heart, let your empathy guide you, and trust that Elizabeth will see your sincerity."
Castin took a deep breath, letting The King's steadying presence ground him. "Damn, I sure hope you're right."
The Rat King squeezed his shoulder gently once more, offering a solemn nod before stepping back. "Go, Castin. You have my trust."
Castin nodded gratefully, then turned and knocked before he pushed open the door.
Inside, the chambers were softly lit, the typical faint glow of candlelight illuminating the small room where Elizabeth sat quietly absorbing all that had happened in the past days. Castin recognized the thousand yard stare she adorned as she sipped tea from a beautifully crafted vessel. Elizabeth turned at the sound of the door, immediately sensing something was amiss by the quiet tension in Castin's posture.
She seemed to convey a frown with only her eyes "What is it?" Elizabeth asked softly not trying to wake her daughter in the nearby room, her voice taut with cautious apprehension. Her eyes searched Castin's face, already reflecting fear she didn't yet understand.
Castin approached slowly, kneeling beside her. Without a word, he gently placed Edgar's carved necklace into her paws. Elizabeth froze, her eyes widening in sudden recognition. Tears welled up, glittering silently as her gaze lifted again to meet his.
"No," she breathed, shaking her head slightly. Her voice was a trembling whisper, as if by denying it, she could somehow alter the truth. "Please, Castin. Don't."
"Elizabeth," Castin began gently, struggling to steady his voice. "Edgar, he didn't make it. Roe took him, and he didn't survive."
Elizabeth shook her head again, she seemed to have been experiencing heartache after heartache and yet it never came any easier, the carved necklace gripped tightly in her shaking paws. "No… Edgar would never, he promised. He always comes home. Always."
Her voice broke as the tears began to fall freely, silent sobs trembling through her. Castin reached out, gently holding her paw. "Elizabeth, you know as well as I do, this is not something I would ever lie about. Edgar died bravely, but he did die."
In reality Castin knew that he had no Idea about the specifics of Edgar's death, He didn't know if anyone besides Roe would ever know. He could almost imagine the disgusting look on his face knowing that he was causing this from the grave. What Castin did know was that telling that truth, that telling Elizabeth that he had seen him in a pile of bodies decomposing on the floor, forgotten, was objectively worse than the white lie of saying he had died with his pride intact.
Infact Castin knew the feeling, it was similar to the doctors who used to tell him that Elena had "fought like a warrior" through chemo when he knew damn well that she wanted nothing more than to give up, lay down and sleep. He could see it in her face every time she cried on the drive to chemotherapy treatments, he could see it every time she couldn't muster the will to eat. Oddly enough, the one thing he was okay with was the lie that "she was in a better place". He wouldn't have ever called himself a religious person but—, suddenly his mirror of self reflection shattered as he heard small footsteps from somewhere.
From the doorway to the adjoining room, Emma appeared, her eyes wide and filled with sudden, heartbreaking understanding. "Dad?" Her voice cracked painfully as tears spilled down her fur. "No. Daddy can't be…"
Emma broke down openly, rushing to Elizabeth's side, burying her face into her mother's embrace. The sight was too much; Elizabeth's carefully maintained strength shattered completely, her quiet grief now transforming into a wave of agony.
Castin felt his own heart twist painfully he had to fight back his own tears. Transported to the night he had been sat down in a special room with a grief counselor when Lillian died in childbirth. They had come into the room with the thinly veiled task of gauging if Castin would be a fit parent after the death of his wife. Before he had ever even gotten the chance to hold his daughter in his arms. If it wasn't for the numbing dissociation of the trauma he probably would have been thrown into such a rage they would have made him give up Elena.
He let Elizabeth and Emma erode in each others embrace for a few minutes before his own guilt and responsibility pressed heavily upon him. He knew how that counselor felt now.
Castin begun to speak, almost a whisper at first "Elizabeth, Emma, I'm so sorry. I wish I could have—"
Elizabeth interrupted softly, shaking her head even as grief overcame her. "No, Castin," She said, her voice wavering as she ran her paw through her daughter's fur. "This isn't your fault. I was always aware something like this could have happened but I..."
She gently traced the carving with a trembling paw, fresh tears cascading silently down the fur of her face. "...I never thought it would actually happen."
Castin shifted slightly closer, his voice gentle but resolute. "Elizabeth, I hear there might still be hope for Eli. The King believes that the sedative Nikodemus created, the same substance that caused Naomi's powers to dwindle, could possibly help Eli wake from his coma."
Elizabeth's sobs quieted slightly at the mention of Eli, her gaze drifting slowly to Castin. "You truly think it could help him?"
Castin nodded quietly. "We don't know for sure, but there's a chance. A real chance."
Elizabeth held tightly to Emma who had cried herself back to sleep, Elizabeth's breathing gradually steadied, gratitude and pain mingling together in her eyes. "Thank you, Castin. For telling me yourself."
He squeezed her paw gently, promising silently he'd remain by their side through whatever came next.
Elsewhere in the palace, Naomi sat silently by Eli's bedside in the infirmary, fingers idly tracing the patterns on the blanket covering him, lost in a haze of thoughts both comforting and frightening. Eli lay motionless, his breathing gentle yet deeply rhythmic, a fragile reminder of life still lingering within his unconscious body. Naomi was no stranger the irony in the thought that this situation brought her comfort. Seeing a loved one in this state would be a disaster for most and yet Naomi found a sense of normality in it.
"Eli," Naomi whispered softly, her voice barely breaking the silence. She glanced around instinctively, but the room remained empty, save for the occasional distant murmur of palace medics attending other patients. "I don't know if you can hear me but I hope you can."
She paused, swallowing hard, her throat tightening as emotions surged painfully within her chest. "I'm… I'm sorry I didn't bring you home sooner. If I'd remembered everything sooner… maybe none of this would have happened." Her voice cracked, the weight of guilt pressing heavily against her fragile defenses.
Reaching out carefully, Naomi took Eli's paw gently in her own, marveling at how warm and vulnerable he seemed beneath her touch. "But we're here now. We're safe, and Roe is gone." Her voice grew steadier, fueled by quiet defiance. "I promise you, Eli, I won't let anything like that happen again."
Her gaze fell briefly, eyes distant as she softly continued, words tumbling forth more freely now, raw and sincere. "I don't really know what comes next. Who I am now… what I've become… scares me." She thought of herself again as the Paper Wolf, her voice softened to a whisper, rich with vulnerability. "I've done terrible things. I took Roe's life with my own hands. It was my choice, Eli, no collar, no commands. Just me."
A faint noise interrupted her, the subtle sound of footsteps entering the infirmary. Naomi turned quickly, shoulders tensing before relaxing as she recognized the quiet presence of the Rat King approaching gently from the shadows. His expression was calm, compassionate, and profoundly reassuring.
"Naomi," he greeted softly, stopping just short of Eli's bedside. "Forgive my intrusion."
Naomi exhaled quietly, shaking her head slightly. "You're not intruding, Your Majesty. I was just… talking."
He regarded her gently, warmth in his gaze. "Speaking from the heart often helps more than we realize."
She nodded quietly, eyes drifting back to Eli's peaceful face. Silence settled briefly between them, comfortable yet fragile. "I just wish he could talk back."
The Rat King stepped closer, his voice quiet yet firm, infused with cautious optimism. "There may be a way to make that happen."
Naomi's gaze snapped up sharply, her eyes wide with sudden, desperate hope. "What?"
He moved forward, carefully drawing a vial of the strange blue sedative from his robe, holding it gently between his paws. "This is the same substance Roe used to suppress your abilities, the sedative Nikodemus created. My scientists believe it might also reverse Eli's coma, potentially waking him."
Naomi stared at the vial, the blue liquid shimmering faintly beneath the lantern's glow, for a moment the thought of the collar danced in her mind her heart suddenly racing before she shook the trauma from her mind and latched back onto the idea of Eli's recovery "You really think this could help him?"
"My scientists are looking into it although there's no guarantee," the Rat King admitted gently, his tone cautious but hopeful. "But there is genuine reason to believe it could work based off of what we know. I wouldn't suggest it otherwise."
Naomi's eyes brimmed with cautious tears, her breath shaking softly as she turned back to Eli. "I would do anything to give him a chance."
The Rat King gently placed a comforting paw on Naomi's shoulder. "We will do everything we can. You have my promise." He squeezed softly before withdrawing, his voice gentle as he moved toward the exit. "Stay with him as long as you need, Naomi."
She nodded silently, attention fully returning to Eli. As the Rat King's footsteps receded, Naomi leaned forward, pressing a gentle, tender kiss to Eli's forehead. "Hold on, Eli," she whispered fiercely, tears slipping freely down her cheeks. "We're so close."
She sat quietly, lost in silent hope and whispered promises, until another quiet figure appeared at the infirmary doorway. Naomi turned, startled, to see Elizabeth standing there, eyes swollen from recent tears, yet filled now with quiet warmth rather than anger.
"Elizabeth," Naomi murmured uncertainly, shoulders tense as she braced instinctively for confrontation.
Elizabeth hesitated for just a moment before stepping forward, carefully approaching the bed. Her eyes lingered gently on her son before shifting warmly toward Naomi. "I wanted to apologize, Naomi. I blamed you unfairly."
Naomi shook her head slowly, surprised yet relieved. "You had every right to blame me. I should have—"
Elizabeth stopped her, waiving her paw dismissively and shaking her head softly. "No. I didn't understand before but Castin told me everything. You protected Eli when no one else could, even when you didn't know who he was. Thank you, there is no one I would have had rather been looking over him."
Naomi swallowed hard, emotion thickening her voice. "I couldn't let him go. Even without my memories, I knew he mattered. Somehow."
Elizabeth reached out gently, placing her paw comfortingly over Naomi's hand. "You brought my son home, Naomi. That's all that matters. I was hoping, if you would like to, that you'd come and stay with us after this," Naomi's eyes lit up as she began to comprehend what Elizabeth had just said. "After all, we'll need all the help we can get at the bakery." Elizabeth said while fighting back tears."
Naomi stood "Oh Elizabeth, I'm so sorry I wish there was more—." Elizabeth closed the distance embracing Naomi, Naomi nearly recoiled at first, touch feeling so abrasive and foreign she lost the words she wished to speak. She thought back to her cage, to Edgar laying lifelessly on the floor. She thought about her choice not to tell Elizabeth of Edgar's fate, instead leaving it to whomever had the misfortune to give the news. Like some kind of military personnel informing a loved one of someone passing in war. Just who had she become? Naomi thought to herself, beginning to drown in the regret of her actions— No she thought, don't make this about yourself.
Naomi leaned into and fully embraced Elizabeth before letting out a whispered "I would love to come with you."
A quiet warmth filled the space between them, bridging the gap that grief and misunderstanding had created. Naomi and Elizabeth turned to Eli and for the first time in what felt like forever, Naomi felt genuinely understood.