Third Person's POV
The morning sun streamed gently through the gauzy curtains of Talia's chamber, painting the room in pale gold. She sat at her vanity, brushing her long pink hair, her thoughts far from the reflection in the mirror.
Her mind wandered back to the garden — to the way the light had answered her call, to the awe in Rhenessa's violet eyes. It had been two years since anyone had looked at her with that kind of reverence. Not as a queen to be obeyed, not as a wife expected to produce an heir, but as herself.
She touched the strand of pearls at her throat, remembering the Empress's voice: You are not broken. You are more radiant in your grief than most rulers are in triumph.
A knock came at the chamber door, and Stella slipped inside with her usual quiet grace. "Your Majesty," she said, her hands full with fresh linens. Her keen eyes caught the faraway look on Talia's face. "You seem lighter today. Did yesterday bring you comfort?"
Talia hesitated, then smiled softly. "It did. More than I thought possible. Rhenessa… she has a way of speaking that makes me feel as though I am not alone in carrying the weight."
Stella arched a brow, setting the linens aside. "Then perhaps you should not be afraid of letting her carry some of it with you. Even queens deserve to be seen."
Talia lowered her gaze, cheeks warming faintly. "It's dangerous to be seen so fully. Especially by someone who shouldn't matter so much already."
Before Stella could reply, the door opened sharply.
Caelen stepped in, his expression composed but his eyes shadowed with something sharper. He dismissed Stella with a flick of his hand, though the attendant hesitated until Talia gave her a reassuring nod.
When the door shut, silence stretched between them.
"You've been busy," Caelen said finally, his tone calm — too calm. "Tea with the Empress, long walks in the garden. People are starting to notice."
Talia rose slowly, smoothing the folds of her gown, her golden eyes steady. "And why should they not? Am I not free to host our guest as I see fit? Or does my every movement require your approval now?"
His jaw flexed. "You've never sought company like this before."
"Perhaps I've never needed it so badly before."
Caelen stepped closer, lowering his voice. "Be careful, Talia. Rhenessa is not here for your comfort. She is a ruler — clever, calculating. Whatever she shows you, there is purpose behind it."
"And what of you?" Talia asked softly, her voice cutting like silk. "Do you believe your mistress came here without purpose? Or that her child did not serve yours?"
His eyes darkened, but he did not answer.
For the first time, Talia did not falter beneath his gaze. "You chose to take comfort elsewhere, Caelen. Don't begrudge me for finding mine where I can."
The words hung between them like a blade.
⸻
Caelen's calm cracked, his voice sharpening like steel.
"So this is what you've been reduced to?" His eyes burned into hers. "You hide behind her shadow because I no longer warm your bed? You let her fill the space you denied me?"
Talia stiffened, her golden eyes narrowing. "Do not put your betrayal at my feet, Caelen. You are the one who paraded Maris through these halls. You are the one who flaunts her belly like a crown greater than my own."
His face darkened, his jealousy spilling over. "At least Maris gives me what you could not. At least she knows her place."
The words hit like a slap, but Talia did not flinch. Her voice was steady, her fury quiet and sharp. "And what place is that? At your side until you tire of her? Bearing children for a man who cannot honor the vows he swore?"
Caelen stepped closer, his voice low, dangerous. "Say what you like, but you are still mine. This throne is mine by right of our marriage, and so long as I sit on it, you belong to me."
Something in Talia broke — not with weakness, but with clarity. Her pulse raced, not from fear, but from recognition. He saw her glow for Rhenessa. He felt it too, even before she had admitted it to herself.
Her voice came soft, but cutting: "I do not belong to you. Not anymore."
For the first time, Caelen faltered. His lips parted, but no words came. The silence that followed was suffocating, heavy with all that had been lost between them.
Talia turned her face away, her pink hair spilling across her shoulder like a curtain of light. Her voice lowered, final. "You cannot claim what you've already abandoned, Caelen. Whatever Rhenessa is to me, even I don't yet know. But what I do know is this—she has given me more truth in a handful of words than you have in years."
The sting of it left him raw, his pride burning. He opened his mouth as though to lash out again, but stopped himself. His eyes lingered on her — his wife, his queen, his sun — shining brighter in defiance than she had in submission.
He turned abruptly, his cape snapping as he stormed from the chamber, slamming the door hard enough that the windows rattled.
Talia exhaled shakily once he was gone, her hands trembling against the edge of the vanity. She didn't know what frightened her more — the fury in his eyes… or the truth in his words.
Because deep in her heart, she knew: he had seen something between her and Rhenessa that even she had not yet fully admitted.
The echo of the slamming door still lingered when Talia sank back into her chair, her hands trembling. For a long moment, she simply sat in silence, letting the weight of his words and her own burn through her chest.
A soft knock interrupted her thoughts. Stella stepped in quietly, her eyes flicking to the door and then to her queen's face. She didn't ask what had been said. She didn't need to.
"You held your ground," Stella murmured, setting a small cup of warm milk and honey on the table beside her. "He left angry. That means you spoke the truth."
Talia gave a weak laugh, though her eyes glistened. "It never feels like enough, Stella. I stood there, I spoke, and yet still… he twists me into feeling as though I've betrayed him simply by breathing."
"You've betrayed no one," Stella said firmly. "He abandoned you long before today. You owe him nothing but the crown you already carry."
Talia wrapped her hands around the warm cup, letting the heat seep into her fingers. Her gaze lowered, her voice quieter. "And yet… when he spoke of Rhenessa, when he saw something between us…" She shook her head, unable to finish.
Stella moved closer, crouching at her side. "Do you want to know what I saw, my queen? I saw you smile yesterday. I saw you glow brighter than you have in years. And I saw a woman who still has the heart to hope. That is no betrayal."
Talia's throat tightened. She sipped the milk, leaning her head against the high back of her chair. Her lashes lowered, heavy with exhaustion.
"What if she changes everything?" she whispered at last. "What if Rhenessa is the piece I didn't know I was missing?"
Stella reached up, brushing a stray strand of pink hair from her face. "Then perhaps, Talia, she is exactly what Solara has been waiting for."
The queen let her eyes close, the warmth of Stella's words sinking into her chest. Sleep tugged at her, soft and irresistible.
Her last thought before slipping into slumber was of violet eyes and a voice that had promised she was not broken.
And in her dreams, sunlight met shadow — not in war, but in embrace.