The silence that followed was suffocating, broken only by the crackle of the fire.
The Emperor's face, already pale from the poison, went ashen.
He had crossed a line, a sacred one, and he saw the consequence of his honesty burning in Alaric's eyes.
But he didn't flinch.
"Yes," he said.
"I love her. I have loved her since I first saw her at the ball. And you already know this. I have done my best to hide it, to stifle it, and to honor the love that she has for you."
He met Alaric's gaze, not with defiance, but with a plea for understanding.
"I watch you with her, and I see a happiness so deep, that I know I could never give to her. I see a connection that is not simply of the heart, but of the soul. That is why I had to keep the poison a secret from her. Because even in my death, I will not be the man who causes her a single tear of sorrow."
Alaric's hands clenched into fists, his knuckles turning white.
