The door was ajar, soft light from a bedside lamp spilling in, clashing with the bright lights of the hallway in which we stood. None of us were brave enough to be the first to enter, apparently, and the nurse cleared his throat. I startled; Cerise jumped a little, too, and stepped foot inside the door.

Sheen pulled me back before I could follow to whisper in my ear. “I’ll let you guys have some time,” he said, a wise concern in his eyes. “I’ll be back tomorrow.”

I nodded, appreciating his ability to understand that this was a very private moment. Though he was almost like family, my oldest, closest friend, this isn't something you shared with anyone you didn’ have to, especially anyone not of blood relation. This was a Montgomery matter, and he knew it. I swallowed hard, futilely preparing myself for something one can never be prepared for.

He lay there in the bed, his hands above the thin, starched white covers, his face pale and drawn, propped up against several pillows. The lamplight created shadows in his face that I’d never seen before – or maybe, those sharp angles were just there, now, a part of him. He wore scrubs similar to the nurse who had brought us in, though his were a pale blue, soothing, blending into the background.

There was a small, thin cushioned couch next to the bed, up against a wall with a window that spanned the entire space from floor to ceiling. Below, the city beckoned, glittering cheerfully with a mirth I did not feel. It was as if the city itself was mocking us. Irrationally, I scowled at it, crossing my arms across my chest.

The nurse spoke up. “You can wait here until he wakes up, should be any time now.”

We didn’t answer. Instead, Cerise found a chair that had been tucked away in the corner, and drew it up next to the bed. She settled into it, crossing her leg over the other, and leaned to watch Ralen. Her eyes flicked to his mouth and his chest, watching him breathe.

I took the couch by the window, turning my back to the view below. I didn’t want to see it, not now. The void beckoned, the lights teased, all of it felt surreal. This couldn’t be happening, not now, not to me. I stared at my father, the Lord Montgomery. He looked like a ghost made corporeal, the sheets sticking to his skin. I shivered.

A few minutes passed like this, the uneasy silence between Cerise and I growing and growing. I watched her watch his breathing, her anxiety never ceasing, her eyes always sharp, her brows narrowed as she looked on. She looked so concerned, it made me wonder if she was always this good of an actress. Was this her fault? Had she purposefully withheld help from my father so that he might not survive? I couldn’t hold back the suspicions from growing, they festsered in my mind as we sat there, silent.

I shuffled in my seat on the couch, discomfort edging its way into every sense. My legs were stiff, my left knee was suddenly screaming and had to be stretched, my nose itched, and my eye started to twitch. I could feel a headache coming on, the culmination of all this stress and the length of the day evolving into a migraine from hell.

“I turned down Aruga Tech,” I blurted out to Cerise.

She jolted up, sitting straight in her seat. “What?”

I blinked, pressing the indent under my eyebrows to try and ease the pain of my upcoming headache. Oh, why had I said that out loud? It was a secret that had been eating away at me, especially that I knew my father couldn’t find out this way, but why had it come out of my mouth? I glanced at my father; fortunately, he still seemed to be asleep. I hoped he hadn’t heard what my traitorous mouth had said.

Cerise stared at me intently. “He cannot know. Not now. Not like this.”

I nodded, but slowly, still pressing on my brow bone. “I know.” I pressed harder, the headache still not receding. “He can’t find out from anyone else.”

She nodded at me, too, her eyes still evaluating as she lifted her head up and down. Oh, fuck me, I wish I hadn’t said it, but I couldn’t deny the fact that speaking those words aloud, sharing that burden with literally any one else had lightened the load the slightest bit. I’d told Sheen, sure, but he wasn’t in much of a position to help me. At least Cerise maybe could.

Unless she really had instigated his episode that landed him here in the hospital. I gulped, my head throbbing again. If that was true, I’d really messed up. I pushed away that thought with effort, the intensity of the pain wavering and growing, then receding. I suppose it was too late for me to worry about that. For now, I needed some water.

I stood to go find a drinking fountain, a vending machine, a local pond, anything, when I heard a rustle from the sheets.

Instantly Cerise bolted back to the chair, leaning so far forward she might as well have been laying on the bed with him.

He opened his eyes.

Headache suddenly forgotten; I was frozen to the spot. Thank the stars above, he was awake. He blinked his eyes open, the piercing blue that mirrored my own blurred and unclear.

“Torven?” he whispered, the word barely a croak from his dry lips, which he licked. “Cerise?”

Cerise pressed her hand on top of his fingers. “We’re here for you.”

Still a statue in the middle of the room, I was barely processing what was happening. My father’s eyes were on me, beckoning. I understood what he wanted from me without asking, which was fortunate; it seemed that he was having trouble gathering energy to speak. I couldn’t blame him. I didn’t think I’d be able to do much else besides lay in bed after the night he’d had.

I sat back on the couch, seated just on the edge, close enough to touch the bed, but refraining from becoming too close. I didn’t want to overwhelm him, but I was sure I would be able to hear him just fine.

“Question,” he whispered, his eyes on me,

“Anything.”

“Do you… still want to be PM? To… change the world?”

I paused. The first thing he asked about was what was my future? There was no way that he knew I’d denied the deal with Aruga Tech, right? As far as he knew, that was the only way I’d even have a chance at being Prime Minister before the next election, if that. As I’d declined, I knew I didn’t have a chance until the following one, which wouldn’t be for ten years after this new PM is elected. Was he that determined to see me as PM? He would have to relinquish his [lordship] first, officially. Puzzled, I never answered.

“I want to see you achieve your dreams, Torven,” he whispered quickly, his voice nearly lost. “I need it. I know… I don’t have much time, now.”

My heart was breaking. My father was giving up. To see him this weak, this broken, and accept it? I couldn’t handle it. My throat tightened, the effort of holding in tears painful. My eyes swelled, the moisture welling up within them. I ddnt’ want to allow those droplets to fall, but I didn’t think I had the option anymore.

“I… officially name you Lord Montgomery,” he said proudly. “Go forth with bravery and pride, son.”

I lost against that salty water, the tears finally dripping down my cheeks. They made their way, like lost children, down the path of skin and falling onto my hands below. I pressed my face into them, my headache returning in full force, the tears no longer able to be suppressed. I had disappointed him, so, so much. He had relinquished his title to me, here and now, in this depressing hospital room. :It was supposed to be a ceremony, an official honor, one witnessed by family and friends, not this dreadful, hopeless affair.

There was no way I could tell him now, not with what could be his last breaths emitting from his lips. If they weren’t, he clearly thought they were, enough to bestow this honor and responsibility on me without the proper ado it normally would have. I would have to know that during his last days, his dying wish would be for me to succeed, while I held back the knowledge that I had squandered his gift to me, right before his eyes, just before he gave me the world.

I was the worst piece of shit on the planet.

I sniffled, gathering myself enough to look back up at my father. He looked even more exhausted than before, the sadness on his face overshadowed by the obvious look of peace; he had accepted his responsibilities, felt that he had passed on enough knowledge to feel as if he had continued his legacy in me.

“Thank…thank you, father,” I finally managed to say. I caught Cerise eyeing me carefully from across the bed. “I accept this honor and vow to pledge myself to the success of Aruga and the line Montgomery.”

I never pictured myself saying those official words in the dinginess of a hospital room, instead of an elaborate, luxurious event hall, but it was no less official. I was now Lord Montgomery, representative of the Montgomery estate and region.

I couldn’t take anymore. I fled from the room, haphazard, leaving them behind in a wake of distress and tension.