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Erika settled deeper against the soft, pale pillows piled on the headboard, her legs crossed under the thick duvet, with a care-free smile plastered on her face, softening her features. Beside her, Dominick mirrored her ease, a matching grin etched onto his face. He lay stretched out on his back atop the covers, one leg casually dangling over the side of the bed, the other bent at the knee.
“I love you,” he said, the words quiet in the comfortable silence.
Erika raised an amused eyebrow. “What are you after?”
Dominick chuckled, a warm sound. “Is it so hard to believe a husband might just love his wife?”
Leaning over to press a chaste, almost teasing, kiss to his lips, Erika sighed dramatically. “When he happens to be a King, I’ve learned that strings are often attached.”
The intended lightness of her tone seemed to evaporate the moment the words left her. Dominick’s smile didn't just falter; it dissolved entirely, his eyebrows drawing together in a sudden, sharp line of concern.
“Is that how you truly feel, Erika?” He turned fully towards her, the casual ease of moments before completely gone, his attention solely, intensely focused on her face, searching for the truth behind her words.
“I–” She faltered, the comfortable bedroom suddenly feeling far too exposed for a conversation that had taken such a serious turn - it was a much too serious conversation to have whilst she was still wearing her nightgown.
“Erika, look at me.” His voice was gentle now, but firm. “Did you mean that? Do you truly believe my love for you is transactional? That it's tied to your role, or to something I want from you?”
His earnestness was disarming. She dropped her gaze to the duvet, picking at a loose thread. “No, of course not.” She took a breath, trying to gather her thoughts. “It’s just… everything is so complicated, Dominick. Our lives aren't just our own. There are expectations, duties, the weight of a kingdom. I wasn’t born into this life like you were, I’m still adjusting and I… I miss you.”
Dominick reached out, his hand covering hers where it rested on the duvet. His touch was warm, steadying. “You miss me?” His voice was soft again, laced with a profound sadness that mirrored her own. “Erika, I’m right here.”
“I know,” she whispered, finally meeting his gaze. Her eyes were bright with unshed tears. “Physically, yes. But… the King’s schedule, the Queen’s duties, the council meetings, the state dinners, the constant demands… sometimes I feel like we’re just two ships passing in the night, sharing a bed but rarely finding the time to just be Dominick and Erika. The people we were before all of this.” She gestured vaguely around the opulent room.
Dominick listened intently, his thumb gently stroking the back of her hand. Her words painted a picture he hadn't fully appreciated – the isolation she must feel sometimes, navigating this world so new to her, and the way their life had encroached on the simple intimacy they used to share.
“Why didn’t you say anything sooner? If I’d known you were unhappy, I would’ve–” Erika cut him off.
“Don’t be silly,” She leaned closer and pressed a kiss to his forehead. “I’m not unhappy, I’m just a little out of my depth. I love you, Dominick, and I know you have your duties, I truly do. I just… I wish we could just be sometimes. Just us.”
He shifted, pulling her closer until she was nestled against his side, his arm wrapping around her shoulders. He rested his chin on the top of her head, inhaling the familiar scent of her hair.
“You’re right,” he murmured into her hair. “I’ve been so focused on trying to navigate my own responsibilities, ensuring the kingdom runs smoothly, that I haven’t paid enough attention to how you are navigating it. I’ve been selfish.”
“No,” she protested, pulling back slightly to look up at him. “You haven’t been selfish. You’ve been doing what you were born to do. What the people need you to do.”
“And what my wife needs me to do?” he countered gently, a faint smile touching his lips. “My first duty is to you, Erika. Our partnership, our well-being… that underpins everything else. A King cannot rule effectively if his own heart is adrift.”
Erika smiled back, a warm, profound smile that reached her eyes and eased the tension in her shoulders. “Thank you, Dominick.”
“And you’ve been carrying all this by yourself?” he asked softly after a moment.
“Mostly,” Erika admitted, her voice muffled against his chest. “I spoke to Julien a little. He understands… to a degree.”
Dominick’s embrace tightened slightly. “Julien is wise,” he conceded, “and a good friend to both of us. But I wish you had felt you could come to me first.” He pulled back just enough to meet her gaze, his expression tender. “I’m your husband, Erika. Your partner in all of this. The good and the… overwhelming.”
“I know.” She reached up, her fingers tracing the line of his jaw. “It just felt… silly, I suppose. To complain about the demands of being a Queen when it’s a position so many would envy. And you carry such a burden yourself, I didn’t want to add to it.”
“My burden is lighter when I know you are happy,” he stated simply, his thumb stroking her cheekbone. “Your feelings are never silly, Erika. They are important. To me. To us.”
He looked into her eyes again, a determined light in his own. “What do you miss most?” he asked, his thumb now tracing the line of her jaw as she had done to him just moments before. “About ‘just us’?”
Erika thought for a moment, a small, hopeful smile beginning to form. “Little things,” she admitted. “Singing together without an audience waiting for us in the next room. Late-night talks about nothing important, just sharing our thoughts. Walking in the gardens without a retinue trailing behind us. The quiet.”
Dominick nodded, picturing each moment she described, the simple joys that had seemed so natural before the weight of the crown descended. “We can do that,” he said firmly. “We will do that. Starting now.”
He shifted, sitting up fully, and reaching for her hand. “Come on.”
Erika looked at him, surprised. “Now? It’s… quite late.”
“And the kingdom will still be here in the morning,” he countered with a rare, boyish grin that reminded her of the Dominick she had first fallen in love with. “The King and Queen, however, are going to steal a few moments for themselves.”
He swung his legs over the side of the bed and stood, pulling her gently with him. Still in their nightclothes, they padded softly across the plush rug towards the door leading to the private balcony. The cool night air greeted them as they stepped outside, the moon high in the inky sky, casting a silver glow over the silent gardens below.
Dominick wrapped an arm around Erika’s shoulders, pulling her close again as they leaned against the stone railing. The only sounds were the gentle rustling of leaves in the breeze and the distant chirping of crickets.
“See?” he murmured, pressing a kiss to her temple. “Quiet.”
Erika leaned her head against his shoulder, a profound sense of peace washing over her. It wasn’t a grand gesture, not a state ball or a public declaration. It was just this. Two people, together under the moonlight, finding a sliver of the life they had known before. It was a beginning.
Dominick began to gently hum. The tune was instantly recognisable, a melody woven into the fabric of their shared history – the simple, heartfelt notes. He hummed softly at first, the sound a tender current in the quiet night. And Erika let out a laugh, a sound that in Dominick’s ears, was more beautiful than any song.
“What?” Dominick too laughed, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to her shoulder through his grin. “Aren’t you going to sing along?”
Erika looked as though she was going to before she stopped herself; she paused. Silently she pulled out of Dominick's embrace and took his hand, pulling him back inside.
She wore a grin as she dragged Dominick behind her, taking him through the dark castle yet the moonlight shone through the tall glass windows, casting beams of light onto polished wooden floors.
“Erika!” Dominick laughed as he slipped slightly, the soft fabric of his socks sliding over the floors.
Erika just pulled him closer to her, continuing to run care-free with her fingers intertwined with his. They soon reached her destination: The Ballroom.
The vast ballroom stretched before them, bathed in the ethereal silver light of the moon pouring through the towering windows. The polished floor gleamed like a dark mirror, reflecting the vaulted ceiling high above. Chandeliers hung like silent, sleeping giants, their crystals catching the moonlight in faint, scattered glints. The air, usually thick with the scent of flowers, perfume, and the murmurs of countless conversations, was now still and cool, carrying only the faint, clean scent of the night from the open balcony doors they had just left.
Erika finally stopped pulling Dominick, turning to face him in the centre of the room. Her eyes, sparkling with mischief and something deeper - a radiant happiness he hadn't seen in too long - met his.
“Here,” she whispered, her voice echoing slightly in the quiet expanse. “No audience. Just us. Remember?”
Erika curtsied dramatically, her nightgown pooling around her feet. Dominick pulled her gently towards him, his arms circling her waist. Erika rested her hands on his shoulders. Without a word, Dominick began to sway, a slow, improvised rhythm. Erika followed easily, her head resting against his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart.
There was no orchestra, no fanfare, just the soft rustle of their nightclothes and their quiet breathing.
“Once a lass met a lad,” Erika began quietly, her voice gentle, sweet. “You're a gentle one, said she.”
He joined her, his voice a low, resonant counterpoint, blending seamlessly with hers in the vast, moonlit space. They moved slowly together, a gentle turning and swaying that required little thought, born from countless shared dances. The polished floor reflected their figures like ghosts, two solitary shapes lost in the silver light.
As their voices trailed out, the quiet taking over once again, Erika offered Dominick a soft smile as his hand found its way up to her head, his fingers weaving themselves into her silky hair. He tilted her head and their lips met; Erika responded instantly, her hands moving from his shoulders to link behind his neck, pulling him even nearer.
Their lips moved together in a tender, unhurried dance of their own, a silent conversation that spoke volumes of longing, understanding, and rekindled connection. The kiss wasn't demanding, but rather a deep, shared sigh of relief. Erika’s fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer until there was no space left between them, their bodies pressed together as if trying to fuse into one.
When they finally pulled apart, it was slowly, reluctantly, their foreheads resting together, their breathing the only sound in the vast, empty room.
“Just us,” he murmured, the words thick with feeling.
“Just us,” Erika echoed, her voice a soft whisper. A tear, unshed earlier, finally tracked a path down her cheek. Dominick gently brushed it away with his thumb.
“No more carrying it alone,” he said, his voice firm but gentle. “Promise me.”
Erika nodded, a watery smile blooming on her face. “I promise.”
He pulled her close again, not in a dance this time, but simply to hold her. They stood in the middle of the grand ballroom, the heart of the castle, wrapped in a quiet intimacy that felt more powerful than any royal decree. The kingdom could wait. Tonight, they had found their way back to each other.