Riven stared at Ashtoria sitting on the bed, his eyes unwilling to leave the figure of the queen wrapped in a thin black nightgown that traced the silhouette of her slender body. The silk clung to her form, highlighting her pale shoulders and collarbones that seemed to reflect the dim glow of the oil lamp.
His heart pounded violently, so loud it stabbed against his chest. He quickly looked away, as if searching for an anchor to steady his unraveling mind, and found his sister.
Melly.
The girl lay sprawled on a small sofa in the corner of the room, still dressed in her simple clothes. Her breathing was steady, her eyes closed. But it was not peaceful sleep… Riven recognized that expression. Melly was not merely asleep. She had fainted. Her slightly bulging stomach revealed she had eaten too much. In front of the sofa sat a small table, a tray on top of it already empty.
Riven exhaled, shaking his head slowly as he gazed at his sister.
How did I end up with a sister like this…
"Come to bed," Ashtoria said calmly. Her voice was tranquil, almost innocent, as if unaware of the weight behind those words. She shifted slightly, one hand bracing behind her while the other brushed a strand of long hair back behind her ear.
Riven swallowed hard without realizing it.
His eyes flicked toward Ashtoria again. She seemed oblivious, or perhaps indifferent, to how dangerous her posture and appearance looked to the eyes of a man. But what unsettled him most was not that. It was the fact that none of this was forced. It was because she wanted to be here with him.
In silence, Riven retrieved a thin blanket folded neatly in an open cabinet. With care, he draped it over Melly, ensuring her small body was covered comfortably. He stroked her hair for a brief moment, then stood and walked toward the bed.
He climbed onto the mattress and sat at the edge, face-to-face with Ashtoria, who was now staring directly at him, her expression calm and unchanging.
The lamplight flickered in her eyes, and in an instant, the world seemed to shrink into nothing but the two of them, breathing in thick silence, accompanied only by the sound of the night and the hammering of his heartbeat echoing in his ears.
Riven still found it hard to believe that the woman before him was the ruler of the most feared kingdom in this land. Everything felt absurd as he saw her sitting quietly, sharing the same bed as if nothing were unusual.
He rubbed the back of his neck, trying to steady his breathing and the fragments of logic slipping from him.
"Do you not know," he finally said, the words sounding oddly familiar, as though he had asked them before, "that usually only lovers… or husband and wife… sleep together in the same bed?"
Ashtoria turned slightly. Her face remained expressionless, as if his words were nothing but passing wind. Tilting her head as if weighing the question, she gave a slight shake.
"Haven't we already slept together?" she replied softly, her tone gentle and honest like a child stating a fact.
Riven froze, frowning.
"That was… different," he muttered, his voice lower. "That was in the forest. On the ground. And… and it was nothing like this."
Ashtoria blinked slowly.
"What is the difference?"
Riven did not answer immediately. His mouth opened, but no words came out. That simple question silenced him.
What is the difference?
He knew there was a difference. Sharing the cold ground in a wide forest was not the same as sharing a warm bed in a quiet chamber with a woman dressed in silk.
But how could he explain it without sounding like a fool?
Riven averted his face, holding his breath. How could a girl be this innocent and this dangerous at the same time? His cheeks burned, his chest tightened, his mind a storm of chaos… and the woman beside him simply sat there, calm and unbothered, as if it was nothing at all.
Perhaps that was why sudden frustration welled up in him—frustration that only he seemed to feel awkward, that only he sweated cold, that only his heart pounded like a war drum.
Meanwhile, Ashtoria sat still at the edge of the bed, her face as usual—flat, showing no emotion. But inside her chest, something surged, hammering at the walls of her awareness relentlessly.
Riven.
His name echoed within her like the toll of a war bell, loud and impossible to ignore. She did not know when this feeling began. Perhaps when he looked into her eyes without fear. Perhaps when he cared for her, showing kindness she had never received from anyone else. Perhaps when he confessed earlier that day. Perhaps when he called her name gently, without titles, without respect, without distance.
Or perhaps when she realized she did not want to be left behind again.
This feeling was strange. It did not come like quiet mist. Not like calm wind.
No.
She could not yet call it love. The word was too vast, too foreign for someone like her. But after hearing all the talk about love and marriage, about companionship and lifelong partners, she was beginning to understand.
So this is what it feels like…
…to fall in love.
This love came like a storm. Like thunder she had no time to evade.
And now, everything was chaos.
Every second with Riven felt too fast and too slow at the same time. Every movement of his caught her eye. Every word tightened her chest. She tried to remain as usual—calm, rational, unaffected. But inside her, the sea had already broken. The waves roared and could not be stilled.
She did not know how to act. She only knew one thing:
She did not want to be far from this man. She did not want to sleep apart. She did not want to wake and find herself separated from him. She did not want to be left behind.
Ashtoria said nothing. She only tilted her body slightly toward him, then gently leaned her shoulder against his arm. Lightly, as if not to cause a stir, yet enough to be felt.
Riven stiffened. He turned slowly, looking at her from close range. Their distance now… was too close.
"Ari—"
Before he could finish, Ashtoria lifted her hand and placed it against his chest, right above the frantic beat of his heart. Her fingers were soft and cool. Her gaze remained flat, yet from this closeness Riven could see a faint tremor in her eyes.
"…Your heartbeat is as fast as mine," she murmured, almost as if speaking only to herself.
Riven swallowed hard.
But Ashtoria did not pull away. Instead, she slid her legs onto the bed, moving closer, kneeling gently beside him. Her body leaned forward slightly. Her hand still rested on his chest, her breath warm against his neck.
"I like the sound of your heartbeat," she whispered as she pressed her ear against him.
"Why…" Riven shut his eyes for a moment, stifling a groan, "…why can you say something like that as if it were normal?"
Ashtoria lifted her face, her slender fingers tracing over his chest, following each chaotic beat as if trying to memorize its rhythm.
"I think…"
Her voice fell softly, like dew slipping from a leaf.
"…I am in love with you."
The words exploded in Riven's ears like a grenade. He had been holding himself back for too long, and at last he could not.
Damn it—
Without thinking, his hands moved. Ashtoria's body was thrown against the mattress, and in an instant Riven was over her, his knees pinning her hips, his hands gripping her wrists tightly.
"You cannot say that," he hissed, his voice hoarse with turmoil. "We have only known each other for days. You are a queen. I—" his teeth clenched, "—I am no one. Just a poor man who stumbled upon you."
Ashtoria did not resist. Her red eyes, like aged wine, only stared at him, her expression slowly shifting. Her blood-red lips tightened.
"Am I not allowed to love you?"
Her voice suddenly changed: cold, sharp, yet trembling with something else—an odd blend of anger and desperation.
Riven groaned.
"You are driving me insane."
And then—
He struck.
His lips crashed against Ashtoria's, biting, claiming. Perhaps because of the danger and tension of the past days, something inside him had finally snapped.
It was their second kiss, but unlike the first that was tender, this one burned with raw hunger. Ashtoria moaned, not in protest, but with her hands suddenly seizing his hair, pulling him deeper into the kiss.
Something unfamiliar ignited in her belly.
What is this…?
She did not understand the heat that surged through her body, did not know why her breath came ragged, or why her fingers trembled as they clutched his shoulders. But one thing she did know:
She wanted more.
Her tongue brushed against Riven's lips with hesitant curiosity, a clumsy, innocent gesture that drew a deep growl from the man above her. He answered with wilder fervor, his tongue tangling with hers in a heated dance that stole their breath and reason.
Riven's hands roamed—tracing the curves of her slender body, savoring the smoothness of her pale skin beneath the thin silk. Each touch ignited a new blaze.
"Aria…" he growled between kisses, "You do not even know what I am doing to you…"
Ashtoria bit his lower lip until the taste of iron filled their mouths.
"Show me."
And the world collapsed.