The morning sun cut sharply through the glass windows, streaking gold across the stone floor of the eastern corridor. Alric stood still beneath one of the tall arched windows, gazing not at the view—but at the reflection.
Behind him, Saren walked slowly, wrapped in emerald velvet. Regal. Unreadable.
She smiled when she caught his eye. He smiled back.
But something had changed.
---
"I won't be home for supper tonight," Alric said casually as they strolled down the corridor side by side. "The King has called a private meeting. Only three of us. No advisors."
Saren's step faltered, just slightly. "Three?"
"Yes. Myself, Lord Hadrian, and the King. An urgent matter."
She nodded once, too quickly.
He watched her from the corner of his eye.
There was no such meeting.
---
Later that afternoon, Alric sent one of his most trusted men to linger by the servants' quarters. By evening, he received the report:
A raven was prepared. Not by her hand, but by a maid in her personal wing. No crest. Destination unknown.
His jaw clenched.
It could mean nothing. Or it could mean everything.
And still—when he saw her standing at the edge of the library that night, candlelight brushing her cheek like a lover's kiss—his heart beat the same as it always did.
---
Saren noticed it.
The slight pause before he kissed her. The way his fingers lingered near the small key around her neck, as if remembering something he hadn't asked yet. The smile that didn't quite reach his eyes.
He suspects.
She felt it like a storm on the edge of her skin.
Her first instinct was to tighten control. Hide better. Lie smoother.
But instead, she found herself staring at him as he sat reading by the fire, one leg crossed, one hand curled beneath his chin. He looked older like this—tired, thoughtful, beautiful in his silence.
And something in her… broke a little.
---
That night, they lay side by side, neither speaking.
Alric stared at the ceiling. "Do you think people can truly change, Saren?"
She turned her head, voice soft. "I don't know. But I think love changes things."
He looked at her. "Even lies?"
She held his gaze. "Especially lies."
For a moment, neither of them moved. Then Alric reached out, brushing a strand of hair from her face.
"I don't want to lose what we have," he murmured.
"You won't," she whispered, but the words tasted like ash.
---
In the darkness of their shared bed, two hearts beat with secrets.
One testing.
One trembling.
Both terrified of what the dawn might reveal.
......to be continued....
Author's Note:
Some lies are loud. Others… settle between lovers like dust—quiet, constant, and choking.
This chapter walks the line between truth and deception, between trust given and trust earned. Alric plays a dangerous game, and Saren is beginning to feel the weight of what it means to be seen. Not as the clever manipulator. Not as the future Queen. But simply… as herself.
And yet, love has never been safe ground—not for them.
Did the ending of this chapter sit heavy on your chest too? That single conversation by the fire might be the calm before everything begins to fall apart.
Thank you for reading. Your thoughts, theories, and support mean more than you know.
— Always yours,
Your author