WebNovels

Chapter 25 - A Thousand Times Yes

A few days had passed since they came from the kingdom of Solvenya.

And for once, everything was… normal.

No flaming beasts, no ancient gods whispering in dreams, no nobles trying to poison someone. Just a quiet, slightly boring morning in Eldoria, the kind of peaceful day Seraphina used to think didn't exist anymore.

She was at home, sitting cross-legged on the library floor, wearing the oldest, softest dress she owned — the one with the ink stains on the sleeves and the hem torn from when she fell into the fountain last year. Her hair was still damp, braided messily to the side. She had jam on her fingers. It was not a glamorous day.

So naturally, that's when the letter arrived.

A knock at the door. A silent servant. A scroll sealed in gold wax.

She licked the jam from her thumb, suspicious.

Then broke it open.

Seraphina,

I have committed a crime against the Empire.

I've taken a day off.

From the council. From paperwork. From my mother's questions about our future children.

I have done this for you.

Please come. There is a carriage outside. It knows the way. Bring your sharpest wit and maybe a cloak. Don't ask questions.

—K.

P.S. Wear something that doesn't make you look like you're about to duel a librarian.

She stared at the letter.

Then down at her ink-stained sleeves.

"…rude," she muttered. But she was smiling.

Ten minutes after reading the letter, Seraphina was still standing in front of her wardrobe, staring at her reflection like it had personally offended her.

It wasn't that she thought Kael was taking her to some grand imperial function. But there was something about the letter — the tone, the way he wrote her name, the way the parchment smelled faintly of cedar and storm — that told her this day would not be ordinary.

So she took her time.

She chose a soft velvet gown in deep rose — simple, but regal. A cloak lined with winterwhite fur. Her golden hair was brushed and braided loosely, pinned with the silver phoenix comb her mother had gifted her just before Solvenya. She left her jewelry minimal — only the necklace Kael had once given her when she was too injured to protest.

By the time she descended the staircase, she looked exactly as she should have:

Elegant. Composed. Unaware that she was about to walk into one of the most breathtaking moments of her life.

Celestria was waiting in the sitting room, watching with a slow smile.

"No tiara today?" she teased.

Seraphina rolled her eyes gently. "It's a letter from Kael, not a summons from the Emperor."

Her mother set her teacup down and studied her in that quiet, knowing way only Celestria Rubienne could.

"He must care for you deeply," she said softly.

Seraphina hesitated, adjusting the clasp of her cloak. "I think he does."

"I know he does." Celestria rose and stepped closer, smoothing a fold on her daughter's shoulder. "But what matters more, my heart… is how you feel when you see him."

Seraphina didn't answer. She didn't need to. The warmth in her cheeks said enough.

Celestria smiled — barely. "Take your cloak, dear. It looks like today might change the weather."

And with her heart thudding louder than she cared to admit, Seraphina stepped into the carriage.

The carriage door closed behind her with a soft click, and the wheels creaked into motion.

Inside, the air smelled faintly of rose and snow — cool and clean. A single rose lay on the seat beside her, just like the last time. But this one was white, tied with a silver ribbon. Seraphina lifted it carefully, brushing her thumb over the petals. There was something strangely solemn about it.

She frowned. "You're not going to tell me where we're going either, are you?" she asked the driver through the open window.

He tipped his hat. "His Highness said it must be a surprise, my lady."

Of course he did.

She leaned back against the cushions, trying not to think too hard. But her heart was already doing the thinking for her — beating faster, skipping sometimes. She stared out the window as they left the Rubienne estate behind, the landscape shifting from city stone to the soft green of Eldoria's outer countryside. The trees were just beginning to bud, their branches reaching up like hands waking from winter.

She didn't know how long they traveled. Long enough for the butterflies in her stomach to multiply. Long enough for her mind to imagine ten different ridiculous scenarios — most of which ended with Kael trying to "casually" propose and tripping over a rock.

And then… the carriage stopped.

The door opened.

And her breath caught.

They were at the edge of a wide, shimmering lake — one she hadn't seen in years. She recognized the place now. A private estate, hidden deep beyond the hills of the capital. It belonged to Kael, though he had never used it. He'd once mentioned it was a "forgotten jewel" — too quiet, too old.

Apparently, today, he'd remembered it.

White petals floated on the surface of the water. Lanterns hung from the trees — hundreds of them, swaying gently in the breeze like stars captured in glass. The air smelled of jasmine and firewood, and not a single person was in sight.

It was just for her.

And him.

Kael stood by the water's edge, hands clasped behind his back, wearing a long navy coat lined with silver. No crown. No sword. Just Kael — tall, sharp, unreadable.

Until he turned.

And smiled.

"I was starting to think you might change your mind," he said.

"I almost did," she replied, stepping down from the carriage with grace. "But then I remembered how dramatic you are. I had to come just to see what you did this time."

He laughed — that rare, genuine laugh that made his eyes crease and his voice drop.

"Oh, I've outdone myself today," he said proudly. "Come see."

The walk through the trees was slow and quiet. Kael offered his arm, and Seraphina took it.

She expected a picnic. A terrace. Maybe a fancy table.

What she didn't expect was a tiny glass pavilion set in the trees — hexagonal, delicate, glowing from within with candles and golden light. A table for two sat in the center, covered in lace and set with silver. Soft music played somewhere in the distance — not from musicians, but from magic.

"Kael…" she breathed.

"I told you," he said, smug. "I outdid myself."

She turned to him slowly. "Are you trying to seduce me or summon a forest spirit?"

"Why not both?"

The dinner was — to Kael's credit — surprisingly perfect.

The food was warm, the wine gentle, the atmosphere quiet but not awkward. Kael, however, was the problem.

He tried so hard to be calm. But he couldn't stop fidgeting. Or adjusting his collar. Or staring at her hand like it was mocking him for being empty.

At one point, he dropped his fork. Twice.

Seraphina sipped her wine, amused. "You know," she said, "for someone with absolute power and terrifying abilities, you're very bad at pretending you're not nervous."

"I'm not nervous," he lied.

"You're sweating."

"It's the lighting."

"You spelled the candles to look like starlight. They're not warm."

Kael groaned and buried his face in his hands.

"You're ruining my moment."

She tilted her head, smiling faintly. "You have a moment planned?"

"Stop talking."

"I'm the only one here."

"I regret everything."

Kael stood beneath the lantern-lit trees, the lake behind him glowing silver under the moonlight. The stars had come out, scattered like diamonds across a velvet sky. And Seraphina… she stood before him, radiant in the soft candlelight, her golden hair braided like sunlight, her cloak fluttering gently in the night breeze.

He took a step closer.

"I remember the first time I saw you," he said, voice soft but clear. "You were surrounded by strangers who didn't see you — not really. But I did. I saw the fire in your eyes. I saw the storm behind your silence."

Seraphina's breath caught.

"You stood there, so calm, so defiant, even when they were cruel. You didn't flinch. You didn't run. And I knew—" He swallowed. "I knew I had to protect you. Even before I knew your name. Even before I knew who I was."

He paused, took a breath, and then slowly, reverently, sank to one knee.

The whole world seemed to still.

"I have stood beside you through fire and fear," he said. "I've seen you shattered and blazing. I've watched you become everything they said you couldn't be — and more."

He opened the box.

The ring inside gleamed like a living flame: gold wrapped around a glowing opal and phoenix-feather motifs curling along the band — warm, fierce, eternal.

"I love you," he said. "With everything I am. With everything I'll ever be. And I don't want a throne without you beside it. I don't want peace unless I find it with you. You are my beginning and my end. My fiercest joy. My safest place."

He looked up at her, eyes full of light and trembling hope.

"Seraphina Rubienne," he whispered, "will you marry me?"

Seraphina didn't speak.

She couldn't.

Everything inside her had gone quiet — the kind of quiet that came only once in a lifetime. Her heartbeat wasn't fast. It was loud. And steady. Like it had finally found something worth echoing for.

Kael was still kneeling. Still waiting.

Still holding out the ring like it was not just a question… but a promise.

Her lips parted, but no sound came.

He looked up at her, and for the first time, she saw fear in him — not fear of battle or death, but the fear of giving someone everything and not knowing if it would be enough.

And gods, it shattered her.

A single tear slipped down her cheek. She didn't brush it away.

Instead, she knelt, too — sinking slowly to the forest floor across from him, the silk of her gown pooling like petals around her knees.

She didn't care about grace. Or posture. Or silence.

She looked at him — really looked at him — and smiled through tears.

"You idiot," she whispered.

Kael blinked. "That's not quite the answer I was hoping for—"

She leaned forward, pressing her forehead to his. "Yes," she breathed.

His whole body went still.

"Yes," she said again, firmer this time, her hands cupping his face. "Yes to the ring. Yes to the fire. Yes to the future. Yes to you."

He let out a breath that sounded like a laugh and a sob tangled together.

"You're crying," he whispered, awed.

"You made me," she whispered back.

And then — gently, carefully, but without hesitation — he slipped the ring onto her finger.

It glowed as it touched her skin.

Not with magic.

With meaning.

They stayed there for a moment, forehead to forehead, breath to breath, too full of everything to move.

And then Kael kissed her — slow, deep, reverent.

As if he'd waited a thousand lifetimes to be allowed.

As if this wasn't just a proposal.

But a vow.

They stayed like that for a while — still kneeling, hand in hand, hearts pressed close as the lanterns swayed above them like stars that had come down just to watch.

Neither of them spoke.

They didn't need to.

The words had already been said — and more importantly, believed.

Kael eventually stood, and this time, he helped her to her feet not like she was delicate, but like she was his equal. She held his hand as they walked back through the lantern-lit path, back to the glass pavilion, back to a world that, for once, felt like it was theirs.

There were still wars to fight. Secrets to uncover. Shadows that would try to claw them apart.

But tonight?

Tonight there was only this:

The warmth of her hand in his.

The weight of the ring on her finger.

And the quiet, unshakable knowledge that neither of them would ever be alone again.

More Chapters