The sixteenth year after their marriage was Ziva’s worse nightmare.
She sat on her throne trembling, the empty seat next to hers shuttering her heart to million pieces.
“Long live the Queen!”
“Long live the Queen!”
The voices chanted
“You have to be strong now, Ziva. Our people have to hear it from their Queen. The children have to see you stand strong.” She did not even know which one of her friends said that, the words, so many words rang in her ears but nothing making sense.
“Richard,” she murmured. “You promised,” she said, tears rolling down her cheeks.
“You can’t show weakness now?” she questioned those words in her head. Their elder said it but it can’t be. It was sixteen years ago when Wade gave her the heart wrenching scenarios. He said the King will be mourned for by
