"Dying?"

The word slipped out of me before I could even process it properly. It didn't make sense. Nothing about him gave off that impression. If anything, he looked too healthy for someone who was supposedly nearing death. His posture was steady, his breathing normal, his presence as composed as ever. Even with my eyes, the ones that usually caught things others couldn't, I couldn't see anything wrong at first glance. It felt off, like I was missing something obvious right in front of me.

"How?" I asked, more out of disbelief than curiosity.

"Well, you might see me as someone who's very healthy," he said, sounding oddly calm about it, "but in reality, I've already been diagnosed with a sickness that even medicine can't do anything about. It's been eating away at me from the inside. At this point, it's just a matter of time before I end up croaking in my bed."

He said it so casually that it almost felt like he was talking about the weather. My eyes narrowed slightly as I focused harder, trying to see past what was obvious. If he was telling the truth, then there had to be something there.

It didn't take long.

Once I adjusted my focus and stopped looking at the surface, I found it. It was easy to miss if you weren't paying close attention. Everything else about him looked normal. Too normal, actually. But when I looked directly at his heart, really looked at it, I could see the problem.

"I see…" I muttered under my breath. "Don't you think you could've told me this without drinking? I mean, someone with heart disease probably shouldn't be drinking in the first place."

"Well, it doesn't really matter," he replied with a small shrug, like the concern didn't even register. "At most, I've got about a month left."

A month.

"That's barely any time," I said, looking at him more seriously now. "Have you told Titania about this?"

"Not yet," he answered. "I'm pretty sure she's going to cry a lot when she hears it. You know how she is."

He paused for a moment before continuing, his tone softening just a bit.

"That's why I'm relieved she's grown into someone independent. She can stand on her own now. And with you around, she's managed to keep herself steady. I'm grateful for that. Instead of putting everything on my shoulders, she found someone she can rely on. Someone capable."

That last part made me pause.

Hearing him say that, like it was the most natural thing in the world, made something click. It finally made sense why he chose to bring this up now, like this. Through a drink. There was no way he would've said something this heavy if he were completely sober. And honestly, I couldn't even imagine myself having the mental strength to talk about my own death so casually if I were in his position.

"Do you really think I'm worthy of that?" I asked, my voice quieter than before. "For all you know, after you die, the kingdom might end up destroyed under my control. Are you really okay with that?"

He let out a short snicker, like the idea amused him more than anything.

"I doubt it would come to that," he said simply.

The confidence in his voice wasn't forced. It wasn't blind optimism either. It sounded like genuine trust. That was the part that caught me off guard the most. Even I didn't trust myself that much all the time, yet he spoke like it was already decided.

Still, there was something else on my mind.

As much as I wanted to do something about his condition, I didn't have anything ready. Maybe I could develop something eventually, but even that came with a problem.

Would he even accept it?

"If I managed to create a drug that could prolong your life," I asked carefully, "would you take it?"

He didn't answer right away. Instead, he looked at me, studying my expression like he was trying to figure out whether I was serious or just throwing out empty words. After a moment, he scoffed lightly.

"Defeating death is probably what most people want," he said. "That idea of living longer, escaping the end. It's tempting."

He leaned back slightly, his gaze drifting for a second before returning to me.

"But I've already seen enough of the abyss to get tired of it staring back at me," he continued. "At this point, I don't want anything more than a natural death. Not something forced and not something violent. Just… an end that comes quietly. That sounds peaceful to me. So no, prolonging my life isn't something I'm interested in."

"I see…"

That answer didn't surprise me. It was exactly what I expected, even if a small part of me hoped otherwise. With the amount of time he had left, developing something effective was already unrealistic. Hearing him reject the idea entirely just sealed it.

"You don't have to think too hard about it," he said, breaking the silence. "Just do what you want. Do what you think is best for the kingdom. That's all you need to focus on."

He raised his drink one last time and took a long swig, finishing it completely. Then he stood up.

Strangely enough, despite how much he had been drinking, there was no sign of it affecting him.

"I think I'll step outside for a bit," he said. "Get some fresh air. You can leave or stay here if you want to think."

With that, he turned and walked toward the door. His steps were firm, unhurried, like nothing we just talked about weighed on him at all.

Then he left.

The door closed behind him with a soft sound, and just like that, the room felt quieter than before.

I stayed where I was for a moment, letting out a slow breath I didn't realize I had been holding.

It felt like something heavy had just been dropped onto me without warning. Responsibility, expectation, uncertainty. All of it at once. At the same time, this wasn't something I could say I didn't want. In a way, this situation still lined up with what I had been aiming for. It just didn't happen the way I thought it would.

One thing kept circling in my mind.

The King was dying.

That fact alone changed everything.

I didn't even know what the right reaction was supposed to be. Shock, concern, acceptance. None of it felt enough.

One thing was clear though.

If Titania found out about this, she definitely wouldn't take it well.