Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

“Do you think we should stop seeing each other like this?”

“No, I never thought of that.”

Yerenika looked up from her embroidery while he moved his attention away from his book. She gave him a doubtful look. 

“Never?”

Euredian shrugged. “Perhaps in the beginning I thought it wasn’t right for us to meet each other in such situations, but…” he paused and smiled at her, “now I find myself not minding.”

Yerenika hummed, trying to show nonchalance but knew that hiding her embarrassment from his words was futile when he began to chuckle at the warmth on her cheeks. She has always despaired how her skin betrayed her in moments such as this.

“You?” he asked, curiosity lacing his tone as he shifted his entire focus on her, book closed and casted to the side like it was nothing—like he was waiting for her to do something. Yerenika became frustrated at how weak she was when they were alone, when she was with him.

“Pardon?”

“Have you ever thought about stopping this?”

No. Her mind whispered to her immediately. No, I haven’t.

Truthfully, she only opened up the question when she went to see the children earlier this afternoon.

Yerenika admitted to herself that she had been a bit distant towards her niece, her grief distracting her from what she had needed to do and the duties of a queen regnant was not an easy task. She hated the fact that every time she saw her niece’s red hair and blue eyes, as well as her small stature, she was reminded of a jubilant man who smiled at her reassuringly when she woke up in this world. She was reminded of the man who was her father, but wasn’t as well.

***

“Brigitte.” she called and the eleven-year-old girl looked up from her book. 

“Auntie!” she grinned up at her, dropping her book and running to her from where she was before the altar. Thierry Schumart, Marianne Levasilla, and the other two children stood and bowed to her. “Auntie!”

Yerenika embraced the child who wrapped her arms around her waist. Brigitte’s hands met each other at her back. Yerenika could feel her niece flinch at the realization, but she kept quiet—both of them did.

Yerenika couldn’t find it in herself to eat.

“How are you, my little darling?” Yerenika said softly to her niece, who was rubbing her face on the space between her waist and chest. “How are you, my love?”

“I’m okay.” her voice was muffled with her cloth. “I’m okay, Auntie.”

Yerenika smiled ruefully. Perhaps this is how Sergey feels when I constantly tell him I’m fine. Her eyes closed briefly, taking in the sweetness of Brigitte’s soap.

“You are.” she whispered before standing up straight and caressing her cheek. “You will be.” Finally, her eyes went to the other occupants of the room and she sent them a smile, albeit it being forced this time. “Is everything going well for their lessons?”

“Yes, Your Majesty.” Archbishop Thierry bowed to her and smiled politely, Marianne Levasilla doing the same beside him. Then, Yerenika’s eyes landed on the boy who was closest to Marianne.

The young prince of Bellecourt had bowed his head to her, dressed in dark clothes out of respect, and his dark face matched his looks, as though he was one who was aggrieved with them. After giving Alexio a kiss on the forehead, Yerenika approached the sullen prince.

“Might I have a word with you, Dekalb?”

Ever since she had called him by his name in the gardens weeks ago, the boy became a close acquaintance. Though they don’t have the relationship she shared with Alexio, she knew she was someone who he could now turn to. It was something that made her wish to weep for hoy.

If your father had not brought you here, if your father had died before he could bring you close, who did you trust the most? Was there even someone you can turn to?

Yerenika knew, somehow, she knew that had Euredian lived through that scuffle, he would not hurt his son. 

He would love him, still.

Dekalb approached her, seemingly slow but not in a lethargic manner. Yerenika could see that he was hesitant, not out of fear—out of worry. Her heart seized in a manner that was reminiscent of the early morning darkness where Sergey had awoken her, telling her of her father's death. 

There can only be a few things that could worry Dekalb in such a manner when he became an adult. One was in their presence at the moment, pouting and focusing on her divine abilities. The other was a bigger matter.

Bellecourt.

Yerenika gently took his hand and excused themselves from the Archbishop, halting Marianne from following them, saying that they would only be a moment. Dekalb said nothing as she took them outside of the chapels and into a drawing area a few doors down. This was where her mother would rest after morning worship, giving her guidance and lessons, and Yerenika had spent two morning worships with her before she passed. She strived to do the same with Brigitte. 

Now, she would do the same for Dekalb.

Yerenika was not in a position to display herself as Dekalb's mother, nor be an upstart of it. But Soleia Elodia was more of a tyrant and teacher than mother.

"Something worries you, Dekalb." She frowned at the boy who sat beside her, staring at his plate of biscuits and cup of tea. "I can see it. Perhaps others have and said nothing, but I do not wish to do the same. Your father should be doing this, but with him outside city grounds—"

"Mother." He interrupted her nervous ranting, "Mother wrote to me. Father doesn't know… yet." He added later on.

He planned on telling him. Yerenika inwardly nodded at this. The relationship between father and son was now different and a large gap resided between what she knew and what she had seen.

She didn't push for Dekalb to tell her the contents of the letter. Yerenika didn't want to seem intrusive. She waited to let Dekalb know that she would listen to whatever he had to say.

"She tells me to hurry back to Varyshad." This time, Dekalb looked away from his treats to look into her eyes. No longer were there the lingering lights of a curious and cheerful youth she had known for a month and more. It had been replaced by a sense of somberness — and a silent alarm. 

Yerenika gulped, not wishing to show him the same agitation. But it was possible that both of them knew why the Queen of Bellecourt wished for her son to come back, even without his father.

She was staging a coup.

"She must miss you very much." Yerenika tried, but Dekalb only looked away after a breath. "You are her only child, after all, and the heir to the throne. Should something happen to you here such as—Yeudetta forbid—be struck by the plague… well."

It was a reasonable concern, but not the main one which Soleia Elodia focused on.

"Father."

Yerenika looked once more at the eleven-year-old boy who looked much older than he should be.

"Father likes it here. He's happy here."

She blinked at his words, and her face reddened when Dekalb turned to face her.

"He likes being with you."

***

Dekalb's words made her realize that what she and Euredian had could potentially be different and, perhaps, more than what a friendship should be. How would she know? Seo Eun-seo wasn't exactly the person who attracted many people to her, nor was she a person who managed to keep a friend.

Do friends sneak out of their rooms at night to spend some time with each other?

Seo Eun-seo had seen enough KDramas to know what that implied, even if it took her this late to realize and that she might even be mistaken, looking too far into this.

Yerenika had also realized something that she pushed back into her mind recently, which was also brought back by Dekalb's letter.

Euredian is a married man and king.

He should not be spending his time with her in such a manner that would warrant a scandal. An international one at that. The time they give to one another when all lights were out was a ticking time bomb that Euredian’s enemies would exploit. There were also some nobles who wished to dethrone her, and would use this, as well. They would no doubt spin some tale that the King of Bellecourt had seduced the Queen of Livovny into being under Bellecourt's crown and reign.

No. Yerenika shifted. I mustn’t be weak, even with Euredian. Her grip tightened on her handkerchief. I mustn’t be like my father.

“I know what you’re thinking.”

Yerenika looked up from where she was blankly staring at her embroidery to the sudden solemnity found in the other monarch’s features. She had only seen that face on occasion. Whenever she would join him in the temple, when he received a letter from his regent, whenever there was a mass funeral for those who died from the plague, and the week her father had died.

“What could result from this, what would happen if we are seen like this.” Euredian gently took the cloth from her hands and smiled at the shape she was trying to make on the fabric. “The chaos it would make.”

They were silent then. Both thinking of the consequences of how an innocent meeting would result in another conflict between their nations. Euredian would be branded as an unfaithful man by the public and Yereninovika’s rule would be questioned. But these things are merely some of the consequences they would face.

Giving him a tired and exhausted smile, Yerenika tried to lighten the mood she had soured. “No doubt some of my advisors would push me to be your second wife.”

The King of Bellecourt’s eyes widened for a fraction before they glimmered in mirth. “Ah, yes. The chaos that emerges in wedding preparations, my Queen.” 

Yerenika could feel the warmth emitting from her cheeks but she continued with their little play. “Have you ever wondered what would have happened if we had met many years ago? Before the plague, before the war, before…” you took my sister. Euredian could see what she was about to say and he let out a breath of air from his nose, a wistful smile on his smile.

“I imagine everything would have been peaceful.” A slender finger reached out to play with her pink locks. “I imagine I would have fallen in love with you earlier.”

Yerenika gasped at his words. Her gaze followed the man who had her hair between his fingers, and then placed a kiss on the wavy hair. His entire demeanor was serene and confident, as though nothing of what he said could penetrate her whole being. With his other hand, he returned the handkerchief to her before standing and fixing her shawl before grabbing his book. He did this, unflustered and unbothered, and so very unlike her current conduct.

“Might I be so bold to ask that handkerchief from you once it's finished?” At her stunned nod, he smiled softly and kissed her forehead. “Good Night, My Queen.” he whispered to her skin before leaving her, stunned and discombobulated.

***

“Did he do anything?” Sergey had asked her the morning after. “I swear, Yerenika, did that Bellecourt do something? Did he say some nonsense—”

“No.” Yerenika sighed, hiding her fidgeting hands underneath the table. She knew if Sergey sees them, then he would see her. “Gods, Sergey. The man has nothing been kind to me, I swear to you.”

But Sergey was unmoved by her words. “If that is the case, why can you not look at him? Why is it as though you were shamed by him?”

“Sergey, please!” If anything, he should be ashamed but I don’t wish ill will on him, nor do I want him to be ashamed of what happened. She hid her blush from her friend by standing and facing out the window. “It’s nothing like that at all. I swear to all the gods, King Euredian has been kind to me.”

The council room was quiet then. She and Sergey were the only ones left in the room as both delegates from Livovny and Bellecourt vacated the room after the session was adjourned for a break. Yerenika, for all that she could muster, brought strength in the urge of not bringing her gaze to the silver-haired man at the other end of the table and focused instead on the speaking representatives and the revised agreement that was laid out before her.

He’s generous, she thought as she could hear the chatter of others some rooms away, enjoying the reprieve of politics. Too generous.

In the revised agreement, Euredian de Bellecourt made amendments to help Livovny’s recovering economy. Free trade agreements where products were to be sent to Livovny at a low price while maintaining the payment to the Glückmahn Road was just one of the things that he proposed in doing. Of course, Livovny would have to pay more when their economy recovered and was stable enough but it was a big thing to be given already.

Even Sergey had not expected such a thing.

One of the things that brought debate over the Livovnyan side was the magic ores.

“Bellecourt will continue to purchase magic ores from Azekian. With the plague and all the devastation that has happened in Western Rhyger, Bellecourt will increase their purchases. Bellecourt will also keep the agreement where Livovny will have some share of the purchased ores. For the protection and benefit of the King of Livovny, our King has generously offered for the Kingdom to have an increased twenty percent of ores purchased, a change from the original ten agreed in the last Glückmahn Treaty.”

Magic ores was one of the key elements, if not the main element, in the Glückmahn Treaty. Livovny lived off Bellecourt’s purchases of it and placed the ores at the border to keep watch and protect the kingdom if necessary. They had not much of a need for it, but Bellecourt does.

As a magic powerhouse in the continent and an authority on magic and divinity, every purchase of magic ore was important for them. The Tower of Magic in Bellecourt yielded incredible authority on magical knowledge and studies, almost on par if not more than what Azekian has.

Not to mention, her nails bit into her skin as she gripped them tightly, the Queen of Bellecourt is the authority of the Tower of Magic. No doubt, she would be displeased to know such a large amount of magic ore is lost to a kingdom she has no ties with.

Thinking of the Queen of Bellecourt made her heart clench and she closed her eyes.

“If that is the case,” she heard Sergey’s voice, bringing her back from her musings, “then he has been incredibly kind, don’t you think?”

There was a tone to his voice that she didn’t like and so Yerenika turned to him with a severe frown. “What are you trying to say, Ser?”

“Come now, Yen.” Sergey chuckled darkly, arms crossing with a narrowed gaze directed to where the King of Bellecourt sat earlier. “Have you not seen the way he looks at you?”

What?

“What do you mean?”

“Gods, a man who is descended from Laurus and is the authority on the Temple of his own ancestor, also a man with divinity, with that? It’s like a joke but the thing is, it’s no laughing matter.”

“Ser!” Yerenika reddened, this time from frustration. “I have told you that the King has been nothing but a kind man who has helped us on the very brink of our nation’s collapse and you would speak so ill of him—”

“Gods, Yerenika.” Sergey ran a hand through his hair, as equally as frustrated as she was, “Can you not tell? Please, tell me you are not this dense.”

Yerenika reddened more and turned back to the scenery outside the glass windows. She was not dense, of course. She was just late in realizing it. Yerenika never really understood much of his many gazes, but with his confession and Sergrey’s words, she can understand some of them now.

He truly was in love with her.

She wanted to crawl under her bed and cover her eyes, not knowing what to do with this knowledge that has plagued her for much of the morning.

“So, now you know.”

“I do not intend to act on anything.” she said with a small voice. “He is a king in his own right, and I am a queen in my own right. It is such an ill match. Besides, he is married.”

“So you have thought about it?”

She did not respond.

“Yerenika,” Sergey stepped close to her and placed a hand on her shoulder. “Is there something you feel for him?”

Again, she stayed silent.

“I have seen how he looks at you, did you not think I would not notice how you look at him, as well?”

***

The royal library of Livovny was something to be amazed and admired. It held studies and literary works of every notable person in the Kingdom, and even held love poems, sonnets, songs, and verses made of Livovnyan monarchs and royals in its shelves. In the days where she felt like she needed to escape from the eyes and pressures from the Court, the Temple and the entirety of the Kingdom, she would either grab a book or settle in the hidden corridors of the library.

But now, there is little time for her to hide herself. Livovny needs their Queen and she needs to be one worthy of the title. 

Though, Yerenika grieved in her thoughts as she wrote down on parchment important bullets of the land ownership laws, a highlighter would be nice. The internet, too.

She had seen some videos online of living in the countryside and had found them to be so aesthetic and charming. The shows that she saw were also depicting the life of royalty to be filled with drama and intensity.

No one mentioned anything about this. She wanted to cry and yell at the people who led her to believe that their lives were all sunshines, aesthetics, crowns, and thrones. 

A thud made her gasp and she lifted her head to look. Yerenika was all alone in the library, as she had requested not to be disturbed. The library used to have ten active librarians, but since the plague had struck the palace once and she reduced the staff, there must only be one active librarian as they all switched with scheduled shifts. The staff at the library were filled with middle-aged and elderly and she did not wish to take their only source of income away from them.

But Yerenika was quite sure she was alone right now. She had dismissed the current librarian to check with her father’s records to ensure their safe movement to the library. 

She was ready to dismiss the sound with her mind playing games on her, but then she heard the movement that belonged to shoes scuffing tiled floors.

She was definitely not alone.

“Hello?” she stood, “Madam? Have you returned from Sergey’s office?”

No response. It was not the librarian. 

Yerenika clutched her pen tightly, a weapon that should be feared by any attacker. When she heard more sounds of movement, she was ready to throw the pen like some dart when she saw silver hair and froze.

“Euredian?”

No, she thought, it’s smaller.

A frame moved from behind the shelves some meters away, and a boy wearing black clothes peeked from them. Yerenika’s shoulders sagged in relief as all the tensions in her body left at the sight of him.

Dekalb.

“Prince Dekalb” Yerenika said, voice still breathless from her earlier fright and pen laid back down on the wooden table. “I had not thought to see you here. When did you enter.”

“... I’ve been here this morning. I saw you enter.” Dekalb looked away as he approached her. “You dismissed the librarian but you didn’t dismiss me.”

Yerenika resisted the urge to laugh. How could I when I had not known you were here? Her eyes went to his hand where a book of divinity was and her heart jumped. Was he reading about divine energy the whole time?

“You called him by his name.”

Yerenika blinked. “Pardon?”

“Father. You thought I was Father, and you called him by his name.”

“Oh, yes, I did, I saw your white hair and…” Yerenika trailed off, belatedly realizing what Dekalb was trying to say.

“Why do you call me by my name?” Euredian had asked her on that first night weeks ago.

Bellecourt is strict when it comes to rules and etiquette. Did that also mean that no one was permitted to call anyone by their given name? That night, she had thought it only applied to Euredian as he was king, but… Oh, she was incredibly stupid. What if others had heard? No, she was always cautious. She always used his titles when they weren’t alone or when they were in public. But what if she had slipped? What if someone heard and—

“It’s fine.”

Yerenika snapped from her musings to see Dekalb. How strange, she thought. Dekallb and Euredian both share the same eyes and the same features. The same thing could be said for their character and personalities. For while the outside world may view them as impartial and cold royals of their kingdom, Yerenika would see their smiles as one joins her for an evening talk and the other plays with his newfound friends. 

“If Father has given you his permission to refer to him with his name, then it does not matter nor does it have any business with me.” Dekalb declared with a strong tone and Yerenika smiled.

Truly, if he had not been so wrongly influenced and used by his own mother, he would have been a great king in the books. 

Yerenika pulled the chair beside hers and patted on it, gesturing for him to sit beside her. “Come.”

Dekalb was startled at the word and gesture. He seemed hesitant at first but obeyed the command of the foreign queen and moved to seat himself beside her. Yerenika could feel some sting when he sat down but pushed it away for some fatigue she had built up around herself. He glanced at her curiously, waiting to see what she was going to say and do next.

Now, he has a chance to be a good one.

Her eyes went to the books he carried with him. Alongside a book on divinity, she noticed a very familiar title. Her smile grew with fondness. “I had not known that the Prince of Bellecourt is an avid reader of romance.”

There was a hint of pink forming on the princeling’s cheeks and ears before he responded. “Brigitte told me I was too sour and told Alexi he was too dull, and that we both needed to read romance to be agreeable men. We’ve both studied but I do not know what I should derive from said novels.”

A hearty laugh left her mouth. Oh, it has been so long since she let out such a loud laugh from her stomach. 

“Oh, my goodness. Oh, Brigitte.” her laugh simmered into giggles, wishing to laugh once more when she noticed that his pinkness had turned into red. She pulled back a loose pink strand of her hair, moved by her laughter and movements. “So, you and Alexi decided to research on the topic on how to become charismatic and charming men?”

“It’s completely useless.” Dekalb said with an arrogant sniff, though Yerenika knew he was just using it to hide his shyness. “I don’t even need to bother. I don’t see the need to become charming and agreeable when Mother will be the one to fix my marriage for me.”

Yerenika’s smile vanished.

“Mother told me that any girl who marries a Bellecourt will be a fortunate woman.” He declared. 

Yerenika closed her eyes. His mother, the Queen. Soleia Elodia Bellecourt. 

Suddenly, the electronic text from her phone came to her mind.

A year after Brigitte leaves, when Dekalb turns eleven, he kills his own father, the King of Bellecourt, by using him as a sacrifice in a magic ritual.

She could not fathom what kind of mother would push her child to kill his own father. The thought of the boy sitting beside her, wielding dark magic and using it against Euredian; the thought of Euredian dying in front of his child, the thought of Euredian dying—

Yerenika moved a trembling hand to Dekalb’s shoulder.

“Dekalb,” she ignored, or rather was too distracted to notice his eyes widen and the flush of his cheeks spread, “tell me, how old are you?”

The young prince frowned in confusion at her query. She was sure he wanted to ask why the sudden curiosity of his age, but he chose to respond to her.

“I am eleven, Your Majesty.”

Yerenika contained her shaky breath and sent Dekalb a smile instead. “You’ve grown.”

“Yes.” Dekalb said unsurely, perhaps not knowing where this conversation of theirs was leading.

Yerenika smiled kindly. “And you are happy?”

Dekalb seemed to be astounded by the question, slightly leaning back to look more of her and she let him. But she needed to know. His happiness is a foundation for the story she wishes, as is Brigitte’s and Alexi’s, as is Euredian’s.

Yerenika felt a wave of exhaustion coming over her, and she felt suffocated, as though she could not breathe.

She waited in those soul-sucking moments for Dekalb to respond, and when he did, she wanted to weep.

***

Yereninovika watched as the men of her council discussed with the Bellceourtian delegation. She sat at the end of the long table, Euredian on the other end. She was mostly silent, speaking when being asked, and let her council lead her thoughts, saying words on her behalf.

Euredian was more active than her, as active as a quiet man would be. He was different from the man she would see at night. More cold, more stern, more domineering– his face a sheet of ice and his eyes a red fire when something unpleasant is said. She longed to see the warmth again.

“I imagine everything would have been peaceful. I imagine I would have fallen in love with you earlier.”

Yerenika coughed and the discussions halted as Sergey quickly aided her with a pat on the back and some water. She could hear some councilmen inquiring about her and she waved her hand, while the other covered her mouth.

“Yen, water? Perhaps a doctor?” Sergey whispered to her and she shook her head. “Perhaps we should take a reprieve…”

“No, Sergey. I’m fine.” she said, breathing deeply as she leaned back on her chair, trying to calm her beating heart and control her heated face. She smiled at the others in the room, focused on her. “Please, do not mind me, my lords. Pray, continue your discussion.”

A man from Bellecourt cleared his throat and laid out the plans for the economic recovery of Livovny, while her Minister of Finance crossed over everything that was being said and discussed how it could be possible, and how they could bring back such an amount of wealth.

Her eyes went to Euredian, who was still looking at her. It was as though the man had heard her thoughts.

Those red, burgundy eyes were now looking at her in concern, and before her now was the man, not the king. His white brows were scrunched together, troubled, and his mouth set in a frown. She could see the grip he had on his armrests and the tenseness of his body which was not there earlier, even if he was displeased with some councilmen who were unfavorable of his presence.

‘Are you alright?’ that was the question his face seemed to be asking her.

She smiled at him and gave him a subtle nod. However, there was no doubt or question between them as to why she was acting strange.

Yerenika could only look away from him and focus on a councilman from Bellecourt, worried how it might affect their royal coffers. Euredian shifted his focus as well to respond in a kind manner that is not so smug over his high finances.

She could feel Sergey’s eyes on her and she blinked at him. There was a curious and inquisitive gaze, one very much unlike Euredian’s and she wondered what he was thinking, and she was frightened by what he was thinking. Sergey was a man who could read her well, and if he saw right through her, saw how she shares glances with Euredian–

A knock and Sergey let a manservant in. The discussions persisted as the old man went between her and Sergey, whispering to them of movement.

“Two separate papers arrived from the east, along with a present.” Yerenika looked down, forcing herself not to look at Euredian, who was still speaking with his men, appeasing them. “One letter was from the mother, the other with a gift from a friend.”

Sergey’s green eyes became more focused than ever, and she could feel the turbulent emotions in them without having to glance.

***

Yerenika watched Sergey pacing in her study – her father’s study – and she cleared her throat.

“Surely there’s nothing wrong with it, Ser.” she tried to placate. “She is his mother, after all. She must worry. “ Worry that he is becoming closer with his father. Yerenika could barely contain her nervousness and anger every time she thought of the Queen of Bellecourt. Any queen would rejoice at the thought of their son gaining the king’s favour, but instead, she wishes for them to be apart.

Yerenika often wondered why Soleia Elodia would want to marry Euredian and be Queen. She wondered if there was more to it. But she also thought that any marital issues between the two of them should be kept between them. She had no right to interfere as an outsider.

Even if… 

She felt her cheeks flush and her heart pound faster.

Even if he said those things.

She could still not forget how soft his voice was.

“I imagine everything would have been peaceful.”

How gentle his touch was,

“I imagine I would have fallen in love with you earlier.”

Sergey’s voice pushed her far from the memories of that night.

“But to be this frequent? And only to her son? Why does she not write to her husband?” Yerenika ignored the pang of hurt at the thought of the Queen writing to her Euredian. “I have heard the rumors of their marriage, but there has to be something else going on. If the King is using Livovny as means to escape from his cold marriage, then he should leave us out of it. I do not wish for the anger of the head of a Magic Tower, Yerenika.”

Yerenika gulped at the thought of a fearsome woman directing her anger to them. She lowered her head, setting aside the documents detailing the budget needed for their agriculture to recover. She would not be able to give it her attention for now.

“Surely, Queen Soleia would not wage a war over marital issues, let alone against Livovny, which her country worked so hard to establish peace with.”

“Oh, please.” Sergey stopped his pacing, an indescribable look on his face. “They have marital issues, indeed, but it would not bode well for Soleia Bellecourt if her husband takes interest in another queen.”

She bristled at his implication. “Sergey Levan!” she shouted. “I will not have conflict on the grounds of rumor and falsehood!”

Was it? There was a clog in her throat. Was it falsehood, though?

“It’s their king who is wishing for peace, even if he started it.” Sergey scowled but eased his face when he saw Yerenika’s stern and saddened face. “I will never forgive him, Yerenika. You know that.”

“Even if it was really my father who started the war?” she whispered. “He was the one who pushed a man’s patience. I love my father, Ser, but I am not above finding him an innocent man.”

Sergey was silent for a moment, looking away from her. “Your father was not the perfect man or king, but he was a loving father who wanted his daughter back. Yes, his greed led to this shitstorm–”

“Sergey!”

“I hated your father, Yerenika.” Sergey scowled. “Is that what you want me to say, alongside my hate for that king you’re being friendly with?”

Yerenika’s heart burned with pain at Sergey’s words, but she took it with silence. She pushed him, she should reap what she sowed.

“... Then…?” She did not continue. They both knew what she was trying to ask.

“But he’s still the man I grew up with.” he had a defeated tone. “I guess, in a way, how you feel.”

Yerenika looked at him; looked at his tired eyes and weary figure. This was a man who carried the burdens of his brother and later on the burdens of his country, shared her responsibilities and her fear, and worries, and the weight of a nation on the brink of collapse, all the while mourning for the family he had lost and caring for the last blood family he had.

Yes, her father was a terrible king, but he was the one that was there when she needed him in the first few months she had arrived in this fantasy. He was there when she was unsure of the new duties she was given. In his last few months, in his last few days, he was a father she had longed to have. He died in a manner that she would have wanted to experience with her father, and not through some text to inform her of his demise.

“I served your father because he was a father to me, too. I loved him, even with his flaws.”

***

Yerenika brushed Brigitte’s hair blankly as the girl slept on the bed, peaceful and untroubled after an hour of reading her a story.

Her hands played with the vibrant red hairs of Livovnyans, and for a moment compared it with her own pink ones. These hairs were things of fiction, something that was only stuck inside the data of her phone. But she now lived in it.

She briefly wondered about the untold lives of the people in the story. The exhaustion that came with living in a world of magic and divinity and politics. Seo Eunseo would have thought back then it was easier to be living in a world with problems such as these, she should have known better to compare so unequally. 

Just because Yereninovika was mentioned only a handful of times and lived a life with her family as a princess, it didn’t mean she was living a life of pleasure and luxury. Just because she wasn’t in the battlefield, it didn’t mean she didn’t face the horrors of war. Just because she was stuck in a gilded cage, it didn’t mean she wasn’t suffering.

Just because she didn’t have a voice in the story, except for that cry to Theresia, it didn’t mean she was a background character. She was the main character of her own story.

And how painful your story is. Seo Eunseo thought as she lived in the body of the woman who passed away without her family knowing, and without even knowing why. The untold story of our generation is painful.

The stories of Theresia, of the Duke, of Sergey, of her mother and father — of Euredian.

Seo Eunseo cried for them, but saw them as nothing more than characters. But they were real, and she met them, or saw their graves and the people they loved who loved them in return. 

And she was one of them now. A character who was yearning for happiness. 

But I mustn't be too greedy. She reminded herself. Brigitte should be the one happy.

“Brigitte Wants to be Happy.” she muttered, smoothing out her niece’s temples and placing a kiss on her forehead. “And you will be, sweet one.”

Her mind went to the image of three children playing in the royal grounds and she closed her eyes.

“All of you will be.”

***

Seo Eunseo was twenty-five at the time of her death. When she was alive and in her own body, she lived just to live. She wasn’t one of those people who had the opportunity to have some time to truly live, and in the process, love.

The only love she received was in the form of a dying mother in a hospital gown.

Thinking about her while being alone in her bedroom and staring out the window – which was what she did in that cold hospital room – it made her detached from the body that she was residing in while also accepting that they were, more or less, the same person.

But, at least – she thought, touching her pink hair – you had a happy childhood.

Seo Eunseo heard it, once, from her father, the king. He was having one of those “fever dreams”  as she stayed by his bedside, caring and praying for him. 

“I’m sorry.” the poor man had sobbed, desperately reaching out to her, rubbing the back of his sweat-covered hands, “You were such a happy child. I ruined it. I ruined you.”

Princess Yereninovika was born in autumn but smiled like spring. 

“You used to smile a lot.” Sergey had told her once, as she poured over decisions in her father’s stead with his help. “Now you barely smile at all.”

She retorted, “I still smile.”

“A real smile, Yerenika. Not one hanging with death and sadness. And not one done for pleasantries or a falsehood you show to Brigitte.”

Yereninovika was a smiling woman, Seo Eunseo was not. 

But she learnt how to smile. It was a struggle, but she learnt. Now, she smiles a lot for him.

“I imagine everything would have been peaceful. I imagine I would have fallen in love with you earlier.”

Seo Eunseo was twenty-six, living in the body of a twenty-nine year old princess. 

For the first time ever since she came here, she felt someone love her for being her and not being “Yereninovika.” 

Her hands tried to cover her mouth but it was to no avail. She could not stop smiling behind her hands, sobbing as she recalled those loving words for her.

Someone loved her. But it hurt not hearing her name. Still, he loved her and not the princess that once was there; the princess, daughter, friend, aunt that everyone knew. She was a “Yerenika” he met when she was here. The Seo Eunseo behind “Yereninovika.”

He loves her. In the one month and two weeks he was here, he fell in love with her. In the midst of death and devastation, he loved her.

Euredian Louis Soledor de Bellecourt.

The name of an unnamed man in the novel, who loved his son but died when his affections were not returned. The name of an unnamed man whom she had mourned as she read over his fictional death.

And she hoped it would remain a thing of fiction. Yerenika placed her hand over her burning chest. She would not be able to bear to hear it, let alone see it. Dekalb was a good child who was being distanced from his mother’s grasp. Euredian will survive. 

It was inappropriate to fall in love in this time and situation. It was inappropriate for him to fall in love with a woman outside his marriage. But he was there, and he felt so right. Like he was the one person she was waiting for without knowing. 

She stayed in her room, thinking she could avoid him, but she could not.

How could she? She was a woman who longed for love, and now someone loved her.

Yerenika – Seo Eunseo – ran.

She ran to where she knew he would be, to where it all truly began.

It didn’t start in the throne room, it didn’t emerge when he entered those gilded doors. She really didn’t think it began anywhere and just appeared gradually. But she was wrong. It was there. 

At the start, she noticed his handsome face and his impressive aura, but none of them really held a torch to how he was on the first night she saw him by the windows of the east wing. This was the place where they opened out their hearts to each other, where their hands could touch without much scrutiny, and where he unveiled to her the secret that would bring kingdoms low.

It was there where she wanted to be.

And he was there, waiting.

“My Queen.”

“Euredian!”

***

He loved her.

Euredian played with the velvet of the object in his hands, throat dry and heart gently pounding in affection. This piece, to arrive in Livovny… it was enough proof of where his feelings lay, far away from its home, from his lands.

This was evidence enough.

Euredian genuinely, truthfully, and absolutely loved Yerenika. 

Yerenika had not come in two nights. He knew she had been busy as of light, heard of how she was reading more laws and trying to look for more possible sources of income other than the Road, but he had thought that… after what he said, perhaps she would welcome his affections.

He thought he was not alone in it. Euredian thought that perhaps she, too, felt something stirring between them. He had greatly admired the flush of her cheeks whenever he spoke to her or when small touches happened between them. The sight of them, especially when he had realized his feelings, brought joy to him.

Euredian should have been content with what they had. He should have stayed in what they were doing.But no, his mouth ran away from his, as it usually would whenever he was in her presence.

He sighed and ran a hand through his hair in frustration. His silver brows scrunched at the memory of her stunned expression when he had uttered those words.

Foolish, foolish, foolish!

An agitated breath left his nose and mouth as he stood, clutching the box tightly and pacing in front of the window that shed that mocking light on him. He saw Yerenika yesterday during a session, but he hadn’t had the opportunity to speak to her. The only other times he had seen her in the evenings were during dinner, and she would be preoccupied with Brigitte. He would do the same with Dekalb, talking with him about his lessons on divinity and how the rest of his day had been.

Euredian’s eyes softened at the thought of his son, his only family and blood.

Dekalb was faring well, and was talking more to him.

Euredian’s eyes narrowed as he remembered last night. What Dekalb had told him.

***

“Mother wrote to me once again.”

“Oh?” Euredian lifted his head, interested. He had no doubt about the contents of the letter; urging Dekalb to come home earlier than his father so that they may cast aside those loyal to Euredian and place him on the throne before he is even dead.

He looked at the boy, knowing that he was clueless of what his mother’s rage had done to the letters he had sent back home.

“It’s all the same, Father. She asks that we come home soon.”

“... We?” Euredian leaned back. “Including me?”

“Yes.” the young prince frowned and placed the letter on his desk, surprising the King.

Dekalb had given him a letter intended for himself from Soleia. His heart almost burst at the act. Dekalb was trusting him, Dekalb was turning towards him. While it was not ideal for a royal family, for any family, to be separated such as this, to be divided by such greed, Euredian would do anything to protect Dekalb from his mother’s ambition.

Heart in his throat, Euredian took the letter and read its contents.

My son,

I am your mother, the woman who raised you. The Livovnyans and their royal family will solve their issues among themselves, I have no doubt about that. Let your father play the guilty fool that he is. His actions in Livovny will spread to you, especially that you have shown your face there. No one will bat their eyes if you leave, claiming that I am worried for you.

Dekalb, forget the girl and come back immediately. She will still be there when we are finished. It also seems that you are favored by the Queen there. I have heard that your father has become good friends with her. Whatever is happening there between the two of them, do whatever you can stop it. Should your father be interested in taking a second wife, and they have a child, you and I will be in danger of being removed. Know that your father has no fondness of me, for you and I are abandoned by him.

My love, he seeks to take you away from me. I was the one who was with you for your entire life, and he moves now because he has seen how close we are and how farther you are from his control. I do not wish for you to become the cold man that he is.

Return now, for glory awaits us.

Your Mother.

Glory? Euredian almost laughed. Soleia wasn’t even being subtle to their son. He could see Dekalb glancing at the fireplace, knowing that he had reached the end of the letter. But Euredian was still consumed by the contents. Especially when it came to Yerenika.

A second wife.

Polyamorous marriage in the eyes of Laurus was something forbidden. Euredian thought of the history lessons he had taken. There were some kings who had taken mistresses, very few of them in the House of Bellecourt. Any child sired between them was forced to serve in the Temple, so that they will not become a threat to the true heir conceived in a legitimate marriage.

He had a desire to break the laws. He had a desire to take Yerenika as his queen. But that would reduce her to be a second wife, to be a target of Soleia’s ire, and to be the subject of her people’s fury, who would no doubt think that they had betrayed the dead from the war.

No. He thought. If Yerenika were to become his wife, she would be his one and only wife.

Besides, he had already threatened Soleia with divorce.

But the thought of it brought him back to his son, who has been silent since he had read the letter, eyes cast to the burning logs in the fireplace.

***

No, Euredian could never bring himself to punish Dekalb, no matter what his mother was planning and doing in his absence. Besides, Dekalb had already been telling him of Soleia’s movements, and should he be brought to trial by Euredian’s ministers, this act would have helped him, of how he was relaying information to his father.

Still, he could not erase it. The image of Yerenika as his wife, and if his ancestor wills it, a child between them. He wondered who they would take after. No doubt, they would carry the blood of Laurus. Every child born to the royal family carried the silver-white hair and ruby red eyes of the god.

But, he softly smiled at his imagination, of Yerenika walking in his parents’ garden with a babe in her arms, it would be nice to have a daughter resembling her.

Euredian realized where his thoughts were going and he could feel his cheeks getting warm. He shook his head, flustered and embarrassed. How could he think of such things, especially about Yerenika? He was almost disgusted with himself. 

There was a glint from his hand that came to his eyes and he looked down at his silver wedding band.

What would Laurus even think of me as he looks down now? He scoffed, a melancholic and mocking smile for himself as he gazed to the dark sky with glittering stars. There were more stars here than in Varyshad. He briefly thought of stories from farther west, of how some people in Azekian think of those stars as the kings from the past. Euredian then thought of his father, then of his mother.

What would they be thinking of him now? He, who unlike them, married for stability in his kingdom rather than love.

Euredian’s thoughts then went to the quiet garden outside his study’s window, the scent of roses entering his mind and filling him with nostalgia of the childhood he once had; of a loving mother and besotted father. 

Pathetic. Euredian thought, a harsh grip on his ring finger, almost bruising. They would think of me as pathetic.

Marriage of convenience was nothing new to royalty, it was something deemed necessary for the peace and betterment of the realm. Several of his ancestors and his relatives both dead and alive had done it, he had done it.

But he was unsure if he should ever wish for such a burden on his son.

The grip on his finger tightened, and he was sure it was turning blue, since he could feel the numbness from it.

Then, he thought of the other person who might be pushed to marry for convenience.

Yereninovika.

Euredian wanted to bang the windows, destroy something – anything.

If he had just been patient, if he had just waited, if he had just gone for the peaceful option of negotiations, if he had just come here twelve years ago to discuss treaties and politics, he would have met her sooner, and he would have dropped the thought of marrying Elodia.

The people of Bellecourt would definitely be fine with it, glad even. It was no secret how unpopular Elodia was with the general folk. Elodia wouldn’t be able to object to his marriage to Yerenika back then, as a marriage to a princess from a country vital to their economy and to that damned Tower was more important.

Yes, Euredian could pull his ring finger by now, yes, that should have been it.

Should those theories of parallel universes be true, he would now be loathing the Euredian who chose that path and no doubt had a joyful, peaceful, and loving marriage with Yereninovika, who would not be struck by grief and forcibly placed an unwanted crown on her head.

If I ask, how would she respond? If I speak, would she shut me away? Euredian closed his eyes. He hated this awful feeling.

The month with Yerenika and Dekalb was the best thing that had ever happened in his life. Despite the death and enemies that surrounded them, despite the sins he had made, he was happy, grateful, that he had met her, and that someone had called his name with gentleness.

“Euredian!”

A breath of fresh air descended on him in that cold, Livovnyan night.

“Yerenika.”

***

An embrace.

It was something he longed for such a long time. Something so simple, but oh so wonderful – he would have given his throne if he could have this embrace, especially with her. 

Euredian buried his nose in her fragrant and luminous pink hair, taking in the scent of her, as he had always wanted to do for weeks now. His grip on her body tightened and he pulled her closer to him though their bodies were already crushed against each other. It wasn’t enough for him, nothing could be ever enough after this. He had thought that it would be, he should have known he was wrong.

His heart thundered as though he was a newborn beginning to pump life throughout his veins and his breathing was ragged, like a child who was exploring the world for the very first time. Euredian was all of these emotions at once and it was overwhelming but so… so…

“Yerenika.” he whispered in her ear. 

Euredian could not find the words to describe the mix and turmoil of cascading sensations all over his person. But he does have a name for it, a name that he so lovingly holds close to his heart.

“Yerenika.” he repeated once more, his lips kissing the side of her head as she made a vulnerable sound and pressed more of herself to him, her grip on the back of his clothes so tight, Euredian thought she might rip it.

“Euredian.” she said softly to his chest, to his heart, and Euredian could barely breathe. “Euredian.”

“Yes.” He muttered, struggling. “Yes?”

She continued saying his name, like a prayer, like some sort of salvation should it pass through her lips. Euredian did not stop her; how could he when he felt the same when she was in his arms? Despite being a man whose very existence came from a god, whose blood was filled to the brim with divinity, there was nothing more heavenly before this moment, even if it was a sin.

“Yerenika.” he whispered and she let out a trembling breath. 

Names. They have such a power that could bring nations to the ground, and even call the highest god to earth. In the darkness, their names that had been uttered in a manner that was like the devil summoning man, or the angel comforting them, it was more. A treasure forbidden to touch but too alluring to ignore.

“Have I become mad?” his beloved asked against his chest. “Have I become so vulnerable that I am willing to ignore morals and virtues?”

Euredian’s heart bumbled in pain and anger, knowing why she was speaking of such things. “Then, have I become mad, as well?” he asked her in return. “I cannot answer the vulnerability, I am weak to you already, my love.”

A gasp and she lifted her head, and Euredian was enthralled in her.

Sky-blue eyes, like the color of the heavens and the divinity in his hands, were meeting his own; pouring out confusion and helplessness, of love and adoration. There was a flush on her cheeks against her pale and snowy skin – whether it came from her running, from the tears evident on her wet lashes and wet cheeks, or from the embrace and emotions that were being shared between them right now.

Euredian’s hand instinctively moved to her cheeks, his thumbs wiping the line of wetness from her eyes to her chin. Yerenika closed her eyes at his movements. When they cleared, they were clearer than ever before. 

His eyes lowered from those mesmerizing eyes, past the ruddy cheeks, to land on her chapped lips. He recalled whispers on how Yerenika had often foregone some meals due to her grief. He did not frown, he must not frown. A frown does not deserve a place at this moment.

“Have you been well, my love?”

Yerenika’s eyes turned soft at the endearment and she raised her hands to clasp his that were still on his face. “I could have been better.” she said softly. “I feel as though the world is wavering underneath my feet because of all the duties and responsibilities, yet I could feel as though I can float in the air because you’re here with me.”

Euredian huffed a laugh, his heart in his throat. He knew the feeling. He pressed his forehead to hers. “I would shoulder your burdens if I could – no, I will.” he kissed her forehead. “I will be with you.” His forehead went back to hers, then saw the dazed look on her eyes. He felt like his heart now moved to the back of his mouth.

“Yerenika,” he pleaded, begged, “may I kiss you?”

Those wonderful lips parted momentarily, in shock and surprise, bewilderment and disbelief. Then, it closed and a slow and dazzling smile was granted to him. His entire existence waiting in bated breath for her response.

One second, two seconds… 

“Yes.”

Euredian leaned his lips forward and their lips met.

There were no roaring flames, nor bursts of energy – no. There was a silent wave of affection and warmth in his bones as their lips clashed, an exchange of confessions between them. Euredian would not dare to compare it to the romantic scenes in the opera, where the characters would kiss and the orchestra would roar in celebration. No, it was more… intimate than that. More peaceful. There was no orchestra and there was no song.

There were only them.

Yerenika’s lips were trembling against his, unsure and shy, but not backing away. Euredian moved one of his hands to go to her waist, earning him a startled gasp. The opening of her lips awakened his curiosity and he pushed in his tongue. A sound erupted from the queen as he did so, and she froze but played her tongue with his. Her arms wrapped around Euredian’s neck and he leaned more to her body, bending so she does not have to stand on the tips of her toes. 

Euredian recalls everything that happened that night. Her breathless separation and the twinkle in her eyes as she walked away and he followed, the silence of the halls as their feet pattered on the marble. The welcoming atmosphere of her room, and the heat that covered them both as he took her back in his arms and she brought them to her bed.

“This is wrong.” she had whispered to him between their kisses, her hands on his bare arms while he touched her everywhere. There was sorrow in her eyes, remorse, but it was all overshadowed with lust and affection. “Euredian.”

“I know.” he whispered and kissed her cheeks as he prepared her, kissing her forehead as he did so. “But I don’t care.”

Her hand went back to his cheek and he looked back at her, face flushed and eyes teary.

“Do you love me? Me?”

Euredian smiled.

“I love you.”

***

They watched the dark night outside her bedroom, staring at the stars blinking at them. Euredian’s thumb kept caressing her shoulder as his arms were wrapped around her, while Yerenika held it. His other arm was used as a raise from the pillows underneath their heads. 

Euredian looked down at his love, observing how her breathing was still a bit ragged, although less now from earlier. He lifted his head and kissed her bare shoulder, earning him a satisfied hum. He closed his eyes, thinking — wishing that they could stay like this forever.

It was a calm night with Livne sitting under the silence of the stars,

They, too, were silent. Unknowing how to proceed, what to be done next. Neither were willing to leave in the warm cocoon they have made for themselves and discuss the realities of the world they are placed in. Euredian had lost count, but again, he wished that things could be different. What if he went for an agreement with the King of Livovny and proposed a marriage alliance between them? What if instead of Princess Theresia, he had taken Yerenika instead? 

Would Yerenika resent him for a decade? Would she resent me for thinking these things?

A hand rested on the back of his head, yet Euredian made no move from his lips endlessly kissing the pale shoulder that carried many things.

“Euredian?”

“Yes?” his response was muffled against her skin.

“Whatever it is you are wishing for, I wish for it, too.”

Euredian closed his eyes. Truly, no one could better understand him. It was a miracle that she could in a span of a month.

“I love you, Yerenika.”

She moved his head and kissed his lips.

“I love you, too, Euredian.”

***

The sky was turning purple when he left the room to get it and went back to Yerenika. He blinked when he noticed she was awake, looking confused and vulnerable. Euredian had removed himself from her embrace when he thought she fell into a deep slumber.

“I… thought you had left.”

Euredian let out a sad smile. “I needed to get something.” He raised his hand and showed her a velvet box. She stared at it.

“That better not what I think it is, Euredian.” she laughed, raising her body, hands covering those glorious breasts that he had sucked hours before and was covered with bites and bruises. “We haven’t even—”

“It’s not that.” Euredian shook his head, a small chuckle leaving him. He sat on the bed, bringing her to his arms. “I know it’s…” — too soon — he decided to change his words. “This is something else.” 

Silver crosses with a single ruby in the middle. It was simple for royal jewelry, but it was something intimate to Euredian. He subtly peered at Yerenika. She seemed to have forgone hiding her breasts as she leaned forward with her hands to look, leaving her bare and exposed to him. Euredian smiled fondly and kissed the side of her head. Yerenika leaned more to him and Euredian brought her naked body to his lap. She was flustered by his movements but Euredian kissed her neck to reassure her. 

“The Hearts of Bellecourt.”

She blinked down at him curiously, saying nothing to encourage him to continue.

“Kings and queens of Bellecourt have worn this over the centuries. It’s romanticized that the royal couple who wears the crosses will continuously love each other for the rest of their lives.”

Yerenika gave a light smile. “Is it true?”

Euredian hummed. “The only couple I have seen wearing these were my parents.” Memories of indulging smiles and warm hands on his cheeks made his chest feel light. “They loved each other dearly.”

Yerenika kissed his cheek and held his head in her hands. “Are you sure you should be giving this to me?”

“Yes.” He turned his head lightly and pressed his lips to her palm. “You’re the only one I would give the other cross to.”

He could feel Yerenika’s shaky breath on him and he gave her his full attention. He knows why she asked, why she is unsure of receiving the other Heart…

Soleia Elodia.

“Euredian…” she began but Euredian shook his head and hugged her body.

“Do not say it, Yenny.” he whispered, he begged. “You, it’s only you. I want you to know that, I want you to remember that.”

“We can’t…” her body quivered as tears began to appear at the lines of her eyes. “Euredian—”

“I’m not saying I will take care of everything, I’d think you wouldn’t want that, either.” Yerenika looked down at the crosses between them that lay in his hand. Euredian’s embrace with his other arm tightened. “But that does not mean you have to shoulder everything on your own, my love.”

Curious sky-blue eyes came to him, and the sun was rising.

“You are my other half, as I am yours. I’d shoulder half of everything that is weighing you down. I’d face half of everything you fear, you hate, you love. I would do anything to keep you happy.”

A trembling sigh left the swollen lips of the Queen. Her hands were cold, a terrible contrast to how balmy they were just hours before when passion engulfed them both. With his free hand, Euredian lifted the blanket to keep her warm. 

She was scared and nervous, no doubt. If word got out what had transpired between them, many terrible scenarios would come to mind. Those who were zealous of Livovny would try to remove her as Queen, doubting her priorities as a ruler of Livovny or as a woman of Bellecourt's bed. Just the thought of it is enough to boil Euredian's blood.

"I would do anything to keep you happy, as well." the small whisper from her lips came to him. An unstable smile on her face. "In a span of weeks, Euredian, I have grown to love you." she cradled his face. 

A gentle hand caressed one of the crosses as she bumped her forehead against his.

Now, he knew her answer.

“Then,” Euredian smiled wobbly, “I am a King of my own, who is in love with a Queen of her own.”

The sun was now over the horizon, a bright new day had dawned on the world.

***

There was chatter everywhere as preparations for their departure were imminent. 

The noise from the mouths of the people increased when they heard what the Queen was doing. Yereninovika was making her niece her heir.

Euredian nodded his head in acknowledgement to the people who bowed to him in thanks as he made his way to the Temple doors, leaving for what is hopefully the final time he will heal someone from the plague. The deacon assured him that they could now handle the load of people coming into the Temple, and thanked him profoundly for the aid they had done to the people of Livovny. 

His ears could hear the whispers coming from the women staying by the sides of the pathway, how the Levans were going to take the throne, and how the Livovnyan Dynasty was going to have its final monarch with Yerenika. 

Names. They really do have power. Still, they badmouth the name of a house who has been loyal to their kings and queens.

Euredian internally winced when he thought of his wife’s house. How loyal the Elodias were, despite having their own agenda.

Now, their loyalty is being put into question.

Ivan’s small note passed by one of his most loyal men gnawed at him. For Ivan to have someone from the capital ride his horse to death to pass a note that is no bigger than his palm was enough to worry him. But the contents were enough for him to freeze.

All is well in Bellecourt. Marquess Birrezen tells me of his southern trip, and says he caught plenty of fish but it was too quiet for entertainment. Please tell me when you shall return for me to make preparations of your arrival.

Birrezen has news. The South was too quiet. He needed to fight back his dear wife. For treason.

The sunlight beaming into his room caught his wedding ring and he glanced at it, looking away guiltily. Still, his mind went to a soft body against his, lips that tasted of sweetness despite having nothing on it, and the warmth of a bed.

He had only done it once in his marriage, and thank the Gods above she immediately conceived. Still…

I, too, have been treacherous.

He briefly wondered if Soleia had someone else.

“We’re not going to Azekian and Danarian, are we?” 

Or if she focused all of her attention on her son to replace her husband.

Euredian lifted his head to see his son. Dekalb had taken to sticking to him recently, but did not pass the attentions of Yereninovika when she called for him. Euredian could always feel his throat seizing when his child looks at her with that glimmer of wonder that a child should have.

Has Dekalb ever looked at Soleia with those eyes? Euredian shook his head from his thoughts, and at the same time to respond.

“No, we are not.”

“Mother,” Dekalb bit his lip, “will be punished, won’t she?”

Euredian crossed the bedroom and knelt before his son. “Dekalb–”

“There is no need to comfort me, Father. I am eleven. Mother has done more than what words can do.”

Blast it all. What had that Snake of a woman done to her own son? To his child?

Euredian sighed, not wanting to let Dekalb see the flash of anger that came at the thought of Soleia hurting Dekalb with her abilities. 

“I do not know what will happen. All I know is that I am needed in Bellecourt. Your mother may have done something and I need to see to it.”

“She will be punished then.”

“I… don’t know. I mean, I have to see to it.”

“She will no longer be queen.”

“That is not just up to me–”

“Then, you can remarry.”

“Where on earth are you getting these–”

“Why not Queen Yereninovika?”

Euredian could not speak. It felt like his mouth was open for far too long as he stared in frozen shock at his son.

“What?”

Dekalb tilted his head, his eyes blank but Euredian could see something. What was it? What is this child thinking? What was he even saying?

“Mother always said that you held the strongest divinity in the land, so strong that you even surpassed any king and priest in the past.”

Euredian’s brows furrowed. Yes, he heard some priests declare that, but he did not understand where Dekalb was going with this.

“You never did control your divinity around her, did you know that?” Dekalb looked away, as if he was embarrassed. “Ever since we have arrived, you have been so free of your divinity with her, it’s like you lose control of it.”

Gods be good!

“Dekalb,” Euredian choked, letting go of his son’s shoulders as if his own body was on fire, “what…”

“It’s alright, Father.” Dekalb still did not meet his eyes. “I know how man and woman act–”

Laurus kill me now.

“Stop! Stop.” Euredian rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Gods, Dekalb, wait.”

He wanted to run to the mountains of Cezanne and rot there. He wanted to open his mouth and let out a string of curses that would no doubt make their progenitor turn red and seal the gates of Yeudetta on him. 

His son – his own son, flesh and blood, his son – felt his divinity. He had never wanted to die before, but it would not be an acceptable punishment.

“Dekalb, I…” Euredian licked his lips, “... understand how it may seem, how you… what happened between me and the Queen…”

His son let out a sound and Euredian glanced at the boy who was now staring at him. “It’s not like I disapprove.”

“What?”

“I heard of how you and mother’s marriage bed is cold.” He tilted his head, as though understanding a concept he was beginning to learn. “I heard maids gossip of both of you were brave to stomach being with the other.”

I’m going to remove the maids in Soleia’s palace.

“Dekalb–”

“And I like her.”

Euredian halted. “What?”

“I like Queen Yereninovika.” Dekalb scrunched. It was adorable. “She’s very nice. She hugs and kisses me. Mother rarely does that.”

For another brief moment, Euredian allowed his imagination to have power over him. Yereninovika wearing the crown of queen consorts, residing in his palace, having Dekalb in his lap and giving the small child hugs and kisses while the boy hides his emotions and tries to evade them. 

Of her having his child, of having a hand over a swollen belly, and that hand gleaming a wedding band similar to his.

No. Euredian swallowed down the longing sigh and pushed away to the back of his mind the image he dearly wants. No, Euredian. 

He looked at the waiting child and sighed. There was no point in hiding anything knowing that the child already knows. 

“Dekalb.” Euredian began. “I love Yereninovika. I love her with all my heart and there is nothing I want more than to be with her, to have her as my wife, my queen, and even to be your mother. I have seen how happy you are with her, and I know she is very fond of you.”

“Then–”

“But I cannot.” Euredian gently let his son take in his decision. A decision he and Yereninovika knew from the very moment they told each other of how they felt that night. “We cannot, Dekalb. I am a King of a country, and she is a rightful sovereign of hers. To marry me, she is then surrendering Livovnyan sovereignty to Bellecourt.”

Dekalb frowned, brows meeting, as though confused. “Wouldn’t that be a good thing? Livovny is facing a crisis and it is only because of our help that they are alive.”

“Despite that, Dekalb, there were years of war that took the lives of many of their loved ones. Including Brigitte’s own father, the late Duke of Levan, the Prime Minister’s brother.” Euredian let the guilt flow through. His actions have done so much pain and horror, that even he had not anticipated but faced head on because of pride.

“Mother says your morality is one of your weaknesses.”

Euredian let out a snort that seemed to stun his son. Yes, of course Soleia would say that about him.

“That’s not always a bad thing, if you must know.” Euredian stood from his kneeling, muffling a groan, and moved some hair of Dekalb’s that covered his small face. “But, Livovny will never surrender to the man, to the country, that killed many of their men. If I do that, there will surely be a rebel group rising, placing the lives of Yereninovika and Brigitte in danger.”

“But you could handle them.”

For Yereninovika? I would.

“But she doesn’t want to.”

“Why not? Her problems have all been solved because of your divinity, so far.”

Euredian sighed. Dekalb can be very mature and it sometimes makes him forget that he was yet a child and that he saw the world’s problems as something to be easily solved by divinity.

Divinity.

“You never did control your divinity around her, did you know that? Ever since we have arrived, you have been so free of your divinity with her, it’s like you lose control of it.”

His divinity. 

Euredian’s hand froze from where it was perched on Dekalb’s silver head. His eyes meeting the ones that share his color, eyes that came from him, from Laurus.

“Dekalb…” his mouth was dry, he felt something stir in him. What? Hope? He didn’t know. All he knew was that he felt breathless in this moment.

Euredian went back to kneeling before his son, grabbing the little shoulders and making the scion of Laurus look at him straight to his eyes. He could see that Dekalb was stunned, that he had never seen his father so disconcerted.

“Dekalb,” he breathed out, reminding himself not to grip on his son so tightly, “my boy, did you say that you felt my divinity?”

Dekalb blinked, confused and bewildered with the question. Then those eyes widened and his mouth opened.

“Oh.” he said. “I did.”