LOGINThe music still filled the great hall, but for Lyria, everything had vanished. Her world shrank to the man standing before her—bound, beaten, and yet, still on his feet. Rowan. Fear coursed through her body with a force she could not control, making her hands begin to tremble as she leaned slightly toward the king, trying to ensure her voice was heard by no one else. "Your Majesty… you were supposed to kill him," she whispered, urgency bleeding into every word. "You must do it… before he says anything." Before he destroys everything. Edrion did not answer immediately, but his gaze descended slowly to Lyria’s trembling hands, lingering there as if that detail were more interesting than anything else in the room. A faint smile appeared on his lips—not kind, but curious, almost dangerous—before he stood up. The simple movement was enough to shift the atmosphere; the music faded, the conversations died, and silence began to spread through the hall as every eye followed the king des
Shortly after, in the midst of the celebration, the atmosphere shifted subtly when the musicians slowed the tempo and the room’s attention began to center on them once more. The laughter and conversations faded little by little, not by command, but by the very presence of the king rising from his throne. Lyria was guided a few steps toward the center, still surrounded by the gleam of chalices, golden fabrics, and the hushed murmur of the guests who now watched intently. The celebration remained alive around her, but at that moment, everything seemed to revolve solely around her. Edrion took a crown. Even amidst the bustle, the piece commanded respect: dark gold crafted with precision, embedded with stones that caught the torchlight and threw it back in warm, almost hypnotic flashes. He held it for a moment, as if that gesture drew an invisible line between what had been and what was about to become. Then, with a firm and confident movement, he placed it upon Lyria's head, sealing
The castle had not slept in days. Since dawn, the corridors had been alive with movement: servants rushing about with trays and fabrics, hands adjusting fresh flowers on every column, silk ribbons cascading from the balconies like waterfalls of golden light. Everything had to be perfect, flawless, worthy of the most important event in the kingdom. And of its new queen. In one of the highest rooms of the palace, Lyria stood before the mirror while several handmaidens worked around her, adjusting her dress, arranging every strand of her hair, and placing jewels that gleamed against her skin. The reflection staring back did not seem to be her own. But the slight tremor in her hands did belong to her, reminding her that, despite all the luxury surrounding her, she was still herself. Her mind was not on the room, or the dress, or the voices around her, but on Rowan, on his absence, on what remained unsaid. There was no news, no one mentioned his name, and that silence—thick, uncomfort
The journey resumed at dawn.The forest gradually began to thin, giving way to wider roads and unmistakable signs of civilization. In the distance, through the lingering morning mist, the first towers of the castle came into view.Elinor rode behind Rowan, holding on to him as her thoughts remained tangled between what had happened the night before and the uncertainty of what awaited them. Rowan, meanwhile, sat rigid in the saddle, alert and tense, his eyes fixed on the road ahead.It was Rowan who spotted them first.A group of riders emerged on the road before them, impossible to mistake for anything but trouble. They advanced in a disciplined formation, their dark cloaks billowing in the morning wind while the steel of their weapons caught the sunlight, casting cold flashes between the trees.Royal guards.“Damn it…” he muttered.He jerked the horse around sharply, pulling hard on the reins to change direction, but the moment he did, he realized it was already too late. The riders
The next morning, Elinor didn't speak a single word to him.Dawn filtered through the trees in a pale, icy light that barely managed to pierce the forest mist. Rowan was already awake when she opened her eyes. He had saddled the horse and extinguished the remains of the previous night's fire, moving with the quiet precision of someone trying not to create any more tension than necessary.Elinor rose without looking at him.There was no good morning.No conversation.Only the soft creak of leather as Rowan tightened the last strap on the saddle.They set out in silence.The forest seemed endless. Towering trees stretched along both sides of the trail, their dark trunks casting long shadows while only scattered shafts of sunlight slipped through the dense canopy above. Rowan guided the horse with practiced confidence, but every so often he glanced back over his shoulder.She was still there.Sitting behind him.And yet she felt as distant as if an ocean lay between them.Elinor kept her
They had been riding for hours.The forest had welcomed them with dense shadows and narrow trails, and Rowan did not slow the horse until he was certain no one was following them. Only then did he ease the pace, guiding the animal toward a small clearing between the trees where the wind barely stirred the leaves.By the time they finally dismounted, night had already deepened.Elinor was exhausted.Rowan helped her down from the horse before tying it near a tree so it could rest. Then he walked several meters into the woods with a knife in his hand.Elinor watched him in silence.She saw him moving through the trees, alert and quiet, exactly as he had always been. Minutes later, he returned with a small game animal hanging from his belt.He knelt beside a circle of stones and began preparing a fire.The sparks rose slowly into the darkness as the flames grew.Elinor remained seated in front of the fire, her arms wrapped around her knees.She watched him closely, following every moveme
The girl trembled violently beneath Rowan’s grip, her breathing turning shallow and uneven against his hand while the cold edge of the knife rested against her throat. Fear widened her eyes so much they seemed almost glass-like in the darkness of the room, and for a moment Rowan was reminded of jus
The words followed Lyria long after she left the corridor, echoing through her mind with cruel persistence while she walked beside Mariel in silence. Every part of her wanted to dismiss Valeria’s confidence as arrogance, to convince herself that the woman had exaggerated the situation simply to wou
The words lingered between them, suspended in the heavy silence of the room.Lyria felt as though the air had become too dense to breathe properly.“Why… are you so certain?” she finally asked.The question left her lips more like a whisper than a clear sentence, betraying the agitation his closene
Lyria’s breath caught in her throat, and for a moment she forgot the room around them entirely. The discarded fabrics, the unfinished gown, the careful strategies she had spent days building inside her mind all faded beneath the warmth of his hand against her skin and the unwavering certainty in hi







