Seth sat alone in the living room, the dim light from the hanging lamps casting soft shadows against the marble floors. He reclined on the plush cushions of the couch, one arm resting lazily on the backrest, the other holding a goblet of deep red wine. The glass was cool to the touch, but the wine inside warmed him as he took a slow sip, the bitter taste lingering on his tongue.

The room was quiet, save for the occasional rustle of the fabric as he shifted. His eyes wandered across the grand space—luxurious tapestries adorned the walls, and intricate statues stood like silent witnesses to the room’s opulence. Yet, despite the beauty that surrounded him, Seth couldn’t shake the feeling of emptiness that settled in his chest. He had everything a man could want—status, wealth, power—but it never seemed enough. In a way, the luxury felt more like a cage than a reward.

He stared at the faint glow of the evening sun setting beyond the open windows, but his thoughts were far away. His father’s expectations, the constant whispers of the nobles, the endless scheming—all of it weighed heavily on him. The arranged marriage to his wife, though necessary, felt like another chain wrapped around his wrists. It was meant to secure alliances, to strengthen the family, but Seth couldn’t help but feel like a pawn in a game that wasn’t his to play.

Another sip of wine, the bitterness a welcome distraction from his wandering thoughts. He glanced at the empty space beside him on the couch, imagining what it would be like if it were filled with someone else—someone who wasn’t bound by duty, someone who could offer more than just a political alliance.

The room was silent, save for the soft rustling of the wind outside and the faint crackling of the fireplace. For a moment, it almost felt like time had stopped. The weight of the day seemed to lift, if only for a fleeting instant. Seth closed his eyes, leaning his head back, letting the warmth of the room and the wine dull the edge of his frustrations.

His fingers drummed against the armrest, impatiently, almost absentmindedly. He should be doing something—preparing for the next meeting, overseeing the land, managing the family’s affairs—but he couldn’t bring himself to care about any of it right now. Not in this moment. He wasn’t sure if it was the wine clouding his mind or simply the overwhelming exhaustion from playing the part of the dutiful son and prince. Either way, he needed this rare silence.

He took another long drink from the goblet, savoring the bitterness as it slid down his throat, feeling it momentarily burn away the unease. It was strange, how something so simple could bring a fleeting sense of relief. But it wouldn’t last. Nothing ever did.

With a sigh, he set the goblet down on the low table beside him, leaning back further into the couch. He closed his eyes again, his thoughts swirling—half-dread, half-resignation. The world outside the palace, the one he could never fully escape, would always find its way back to him. There would be no more moments of peace, not really. And so, he waited, as he always did, for the next wave of responsibility to crash down upon him.