Ophelia's POV
The morning light filters through the heavy curtains, casting golden patterns across the walls of the grand chamber. The air is still, thick with the quiet weight of dawn. I rise from the silk sheets, the coldness of the room pressing against my skin.
I spent the night on the same room as the King for God knows the reason why.
Personally, I could not understand myself either. Why I would allow myself to be in the same room with the man who had just made a huge scene during the coronation day with me.
And then I see him.
Samuel stands at the terrace, silhouetted against the sky. His robe is loose over his shoulders, the deep blue fabric rustling slightly in the soft breeze.
He does not move. He does not turn. He only stares, his hands braced against the marble railing, his gaze lost in the endless stretch of the kingdom before him.
I step forward, my footsteps silent. I stop beside him, looking out at the same view. The city is waking, the streets below already stirring with life. Merchants setting up their stalls. Knights patrolling the palace gates. The people, unaware of the war raging inside their king's heart.
"You're awake early," I say.
He exhales, his breath barely visible in the cool air. "I haven't slept."
"And why is that?" I ask.
Samuel tilts his head slightly, his gaze still locked on the horizon. The sunlight catches in his hair, turning it a shade lighter. He looks… distant.
"Because I've already lost the chance to dream," he says softly.
His voice is even, but the weight of his words lingers in the air between us.
I wait.
"I wanted freedom," he continues, his tone almost casual, as if he is speaking of something trivial. "I wanted to leave this place. To see the world. To have no obligations other than the ones I choose."
He lets out a quiet, hollow laugh. "But it seems fate has made the choice for me."
I remain silent, watching the way his fingers tighten against the railing, his knuckles white.
"I have no choice," he says finally. "My father is gone. The people need a ruler. I must be responsible. I must be the king this kingdom deserves. The king my father never was."
A pause.
"I am sorry." I whispered as I locked my gaze over the scenery.
"What are you apologizing for?" He seemed skeptical.
"I felt bad for not being able to take care of your father properly. For failing to secure the life you had given him." I mumbled under my breath as I rested my hands over the rails.
"That is not your responsibility at all. You helped me and my family… some things are just not meant to happen and that is alright. We both understand that life won't always be on our side." He sounded as if he had a complete understanding of what I am feeling.
"I feel bad." I laughed a bit. "Because I took some of your life to make sure your father will live. But then, he died… and we both know your life is far shorter now."
We were dumbfounded and silenced. It was sinking in. It was all finally sinking in.
"I am not afraid to die now." He whispered in the air.
"I am more afraid to die not being able to give a heir to the throne that might actually like the responsibility that came with the title. I am scared not being able to give the nation a son that will continue the bloodline." He sounded completely stressed out by the thought.
"I see." I smiled faintly. "Then you must hurry up and marry to preserve the throne. That is what you must do… I suppose your priority."
He turns to me then, his gaze searching. "And you?" he asks. "What will you do now?"
The answer comes easily.
"I will leave."
I see the way his jaw tightens, but he says nothing, waiting for me to continue.
"I want to see the world," I say, my voice calm, steady. "To understand it. To understand myself. I do not know what I am. I do not know if there are others like me. And so, I must go."
Silence stretches between us, heavy and unmoving.
"I have so many dreams… such as exploring and making sure I will be able to find the things I have been searching for."
Even though I know very well that I am not searching for anything.
Samuel nods once, his expression unreadable. But I see it—the way his fingers twitch, the way his throat bobs as he swallows.
"I see," he murmurs. "So you get to live my dream while I sit on this throne."
I do not correct him. I do not try to soften the truth. Because he is right.
And yet…
I will not ask him to come with me. I had refrained myself from offering him to come with me in the fear that he might accept it and ruin his own life. I do not want me to be the reason why he would abandon the life he had been blessed with.
The words sit on the tip of my tongue, unspoken. We had only been together for a short period of time. There is no reason for the two of us to sacrifice a lot for each other.
But I would be lying if I would say that I did not thought of it at least once in this lifetime. It would be such a huge lie to say that I did not see the two of us traveling.
I imagine it—a different life. A life where he is not a king, where I am not bound by my own mysteries. A life where we could walk side by side, traveling across distant lands, seeing the world through our own eyes, unshackled by duty and fate.
I imagine him by my side, standing at the edge of the world, the wind in our hair, laughing at the insignificance of everything.
But that life does not exist.
Samuel belongs to this kingdom. To his people. To the duty he cannot escape.
And so, I do not ask. I had to cut off my own tongue just so I can help him do the right thing. Even if I could feel something unfamiliar growing in my chest right now.
Instead, I watch as he turns his gaze back to the horizon, his expression unreadable.
"Perhaps it is better this way," he says finally.
"Perhaps," I agree.
And yet, as we stand there, watching the sunrise over the kingdom, I cannot shake the feeling that something precious is slipping through our fingers—something neither of us can name.