Chapter 5: Echoes of the Past

King Knox paced the cold, marble floors of his chamber, his mind a storm of conflicting emotions. He had been sitting by his son's bedside for hours, but now, as the palace quieted in the dead of night, he found his thoughts drifting far from the present. Prince Alexander's feverish whispers echoed in his mind—"Mom, Amaria." The words stung, each syllable piercing him like an arrow.

Amaria. The woman who had brought light to his son's life, and perhaps, to his own as well. But how could it be? Alexander had called out for a mother, and the name that followed wasn't the one he had expected. It was hers.

His heart tightened at the thought of it. He hadn't thought about his ex-fiancée in years, not since she had left him for another man. Not since she had abandoned their son. Her betrayal still festered like a wound that refused to heal. He could still remember the day she had left. The day she'd walked out of their lives for good, with the excuse that she could no longer bear the pressure of being with him—of being a part of this cold, distant world he had built around himself. And then, she'd disappeared into the arms of another, taking with her any semblance of normalcy that had once existed in their lives.

The thought of it—the emptiness she had left behind—gnawed at him, making his hands clench into fists. It hadn't just been a blow to his pride. No, it had been a strike to the very core of his identity. Alexander had been a baby, barely a few months old, when she left. And he, too, had been left behind to pick up the pieces.

Knox couldn't help but think of the years of emptiness that had followed. The years of silence and distance, where he had put up walls so high that nothing could reach him. Not love. Not affection. And certainly not a second chance at family. His heart had become a fortress, but it had also become a prison. And now, as he watched his son, the very image of his ex-fiancée, cling to someone else for comfort, he couldn't deny the pang of jealousy that lanced through him.

"Mom, Amaria..."

The words kept repeating, their echo lingering like a haunting melody. He clenched his jaw, fighting the surge of emotions that threatened to break free. Was he really jealous of Amaria? Of the warmth she had brought into his son's life? Was he jealous because she could offer Alexander something he had failed to provide for years? A mother's love? He had been so consumed by the duties of a king, by his own bitterness and loss, that he hadn't seen how badly his son needed what he, himself, could not give. He had been blind to it, refusing to acknowledge the depth of Alexander's need for affection, for tenderness.

But Amaria, with her simplicity, her warmth, her kindness, had become the one to fill that void. And now, as his son called for her in his feverish state, Knox was faced with a harsh reality. He had never been able to be the kind of father Alexander needed. He had never been able to give him the one thing he yearned for most—a mother's love. And now, his son was reaching out to someone else, someone who had only just entered their lives, someone who had already become more than just a caretaker to him.

A knot twisted in Knox's chest, and he couldn't help but feel a sense of inadequacy. How had it come to this? How had he let it go on for so long, so blind to his own failures?

His thoughts drifted to the past once again. To the woman he had once loved, or thought he had loved. She had left him for someone else, and in the process, she had taken their son's future with her. How could he ever forgive her for that? How could he ever forgive himself for not being enough? For not being able to hold his family together?

The years of bitterness and loneliness were heavy upon him now, and he could feel them pressing in on him from all sides. He had been a king, a ruler of a vast kingdom, yet he had failed as a father. He had built an empire, but it had come at the cost of his own happiness. And now, as he watched his son calling for another mother, he was left with nothing but the raw, aching emptiness that had followed him for years.

Amaria. She had become something more to him than he had ever expected. And yet, the thought of his son calling her "Mom" was a bitter pill to swallow. It was something that shook him to his very core. He had never been one to embrace change easily, and now, change was coming at him faster than he could comprehend.

He sighed, the weight of his thoughts settling heavily upon him. What was he supposed to do now? How could he protect his son, protect his heart, from the inevitable? From the warmth that Amaria brought to their lives? From the love she offered so freely, so effortlessly?

For the first time in a long while, King Knox felt as though he was losing control. And as he gazed down at his feverish son, his heart heavy with the realization that he could not change the past, he knew one thing for certain: He had to find a way to change the future. For Alexander's sake. For his own.

And perhaps, just perhaps, for Amaria's as well.