Wedding preparations..
________________________
(Night — Royal Palace)
Eyan lay on his bed, one arm tucked beneath his head, the other lifted slightly in front of him.
He stared at his hand. The same hand that had held hers.
For a moment, he just looked at it—quiet, still.
Then—
A small smile appeared.
"…She held it first."
A soft, disbelieving breath left him.
His fingers curled slightly, as if trying to hold onto the warmth that was no longer there.
It was warm.
Soft.
…Perfect.
A quiet laugh escaped him.
Low at first—Then a little brighter.
He turned onto his side, pressing his hand lightly against his chest, like he was guarding something precious.
"…She's my fiancée."
The words felt unreal.
And yet—
They made his heart race all over again.
He let out another small, almost childish giggle, burying his face halfway into the pillow.
"…She really chose me."
And for once—
The great, composed Eyan Lucien Therald looked nothing like an emperor.
Just a man—Hopelessly, helplessly happy.
------------------------------------------------
(Next day)
Eyan had been standing outside Eva's house for the past ten minutes.
Ten.
Minutes.
And yet… he hadn't knocked.
His fingers hovered near the door, then pulled back again. His heartbeat refused to slow, echoing loudly in his chest.
Why am I nervous? he thought, frustrated. It's just Eva.
Just Eva.
The thought alone made his chest tighten.
Before he could overthink again, he finally knocked. A moment later, the door opened.
Eva stood there, sunlight falling gently over her hair, her green eyes warm and bright. She wore a simple dress, but somehow… she looked breathtaking.
Eyan froze.
"…You're late," she said softly, though there was no real accusation in her tone.
"I—" He cleared his throat. "I've been standing here for ten minutes."
"For ten minutes?" she teased.
His silence was answer enough.
Eva smiled. "Let's go."
—--------------------------------------------------
The restaurant was cozy and quiet, filled with soft chatter and the faint clink of utensils.
Eyan sat stiffly across from Eva, trying—failing—to act normal.
A waitress approached them.
"What would you like to order?"
Eva turned to him, resting her chin lightly on her hand.
"What do you want to eat… honey?"
Eyan choked.
Water went down the wrong way, and he coughed violently, nearly knocking over his glass.
Eva blinked in surprise.
"…Don't you like me calling you that?" she asked, tilting her head slightly. "I thought… if we're going to get married soon, we should use affectionate names."
She hesitated, her voice softening.
"I won't call you that if you don't like it."
Eyan quickly shook his head.
"No—it's not like that," he said, still recovering. "I was just… surprised."
A pause.
Then, more quietly—
"Can you… say it again?"
Eva's lips curved into a small, teasing smile. "…Honey."
Eyan went completely red. He looked away immediately, trying to hide it, but it was useless.
Eva laughed softly.
"Then you should give me one too," she said. "A name… only you will call me."
Eyan hesitated.
His gaze returned to her, slower this time, more thoughtful. There was something about her—something soft, something untouchable.
"…Princess," he said quietly. "I'll call you that."
Eva blinked.
Then she smiled—gentle, genuine.
"That's a beautiful name."
------------------------------------------------------
They ate together, the conversation flowing more easily now.
The earlier tension melted into something warm… something comfortable.
For once, Eyan wasn't thinking about the past. Or the future.
Just… her.
----------------------------------------------------
After the meal, as they stepped outside, Eyan stopped her.
"I have something for you."
He handed her a neatly wrapped package.
Eva's eyes lit up with curiosity as she opened it.
Inside was a simple green dress… paired with a red cloak.
Elegant in its simplicity.
Her fingers brushed over the fabric, careful, almost reverent.
"…It's beautiful," she whispered.
Then she looked up at him, her smile soft and bright.
"Thank you."
Eyan felt something shift inside his chest.
Something quiet. But powerful.
The day passed too quickly.
They walked, talked, laughed—time slipping through their fingers like sand.
And before either of them realized it… They were standing in front of Eva's house again.
Silence fell between them. Not uncomfortable. Just… heavy.
Neither of them seemed to want to be the first to speak.
Then—
Eva stepped forward. And hugged him.
Eyan froze for a heartbeat. Then slowly… He wrapped his arms around her.
Carefully.
When they pulled away, neither of them met the other's eyes immediately.
"…Goodbye, Kyel," Eva said softly.
Eyan smiled.
"…Goodbye, princess."
He watched her enter the house. Waited until the door closed.
And only then…He turned and walked away.
But this time—There was a faint smile on his face.
_________________________________
Night had already settled over Velmoria by the time Eyan returned to the palace.
The grand halls were quiet, the torches flickering softly against the stone walls—but his mind was anything but calm.
He stood by the window in his chamber, gazing out at the endless stretch of dark sky, stars scattered like distant whispers.
"I still can't believe this is real…"
A slow sigh escaped his lips.
"Today… it felt too short. I wanted to stay with her more."
His reflection in the glass looked unfamiliar—softer than before.
Then—
A memory surfaced. Eva's voice.
Soft. Warm.
"Honey."
Eyan's lips curved slightly.n"…Honey."
The word lingered on his tongue, almost sacred.
But just as quickly, his expression dimmed.
A thought crept in. Heavy. Unavoidable.
"We'll be getting married next week…"
His fingers curled slightly at his side.
"Is this really okay…?" His gaze hardened. "I was the one who said I would end this bloodline with me."
Silence filled the room.
Then—
"…Right."
His eyes sharpened with realization.
"Marriage isn't the problem." A pause. "It's the child."
His voice dropped, colder now—calculating.
"If we don't have a child… nothing will happen."
His jaw tightened.
"And I can live with Eva… as Kyel."
A breath. Resolved.
"…Right. I need to do something."
__________________________________
(The next Evening)
The streets of Velmoria had grown quieter by the time Eyan stepped out again—this time cloaked, hood pulled low, his identity buried beneath shadow.
He stopped in front of a small but well-kept herbal shop.
A wooden sign creaked gently above the door:
"Silverroot Remedies & Tonics"
Eyan stared at it for a long second.
"…This better be worth it."
He stepped inside.
—
A soft bell chimed.
The shop was warm, lined with shelves filled with bottles, herbs, and strange labeled mixtures.
Behind the counter stood a woman—sharp-eyed, composed, and already looking at him like she didn't trust him.
"…Yes?" she asked.
Eyan walked up, trying to appear normal. Calm. Not suspicious.
"I need a tonic."
"What kind?"
"…Moonveil."
Silence.
The woman blinked. Then slowly leaned forward.
"…That kind of tonic?"
Eyan stiffened. "…Yes."
Her eyes narrowed. "Are you married?"
The question hit him like a slap.
"…Not yet."
"Not yet?" she repeated.
"Yes."
"How soon?"
"…Next week."
She crossed her arms. "So you're not married, but you want Moonveil?"
Eyan felt sweat forming at the back of his neck.
"It's for my future wife."
"Mm-hmm."
That mm-hmm carried a terrifying amount of doubt.
She circled around the counter slowly, as if inspecting a criminal.
"You look suspicious."
"I'm not suspicious!"
"Oh really?" she said flatly. "You walk in here, hood up, asking for Moonveil, not married yet…"
"I said I'm getting married!"
"That's what suspicious men say."
Eyan blinked. "…What?"
She stopped right in front of him.
"I'm not selling it to you."
"What?"
"No."
"…Why not?"
"Because," she said calmly, "you look suspicious."
"I just told you I'm not!"
"Anyone can say that."
Eyan dragged a hand down his face. "This is ridiculous…"
She tapped her chin, pretending to think. "…Alright."
Eyan looked up.
"I'll give you the tonic," she said slowly, "if you bring me a letter."
"…A letter?"
"With the Emperor's seal."
Eyan froze. "…What?"
"A sealed letter from the Emperor," she repeated. "Proof you're not lying."
Eyan stared at her. "…If I bring it… you'll give me the tonic?"
"I'll give you as many as you want."
A long pause.
Eyan nodded once. "…Fine."
He turned—
And walked out.
_______________________________
(Thirty minutes later—)
The shop bell rang again.
The woman didn't even look up at first.
"You again? I told you—"
A letter landed on the counter. Stamped. Sealed. Undeniably royal.
She froze. Slowly… very slowly… she looked up.
Eyan stood there, calm this time. Silent.
"…Here," he said simply. "Now give it to me."
The woman stared at the seal.
Then—
"Oh."
A beat.
"…How many do you want?"
Eyan didn't even hesitate.
"…Five."
"…Five?" she repeated.
"Yes."
Without another word, she turned, opened a locked cabinet, and carefully took out five small bottles.
She placed them on the counter.
"…Moonveil tonic," she said, now very polite. "Take one a day before you share a bed with your wife."
Eyan nodded. "…Understood."
He picked them up.
Turned.
And walked out.
_________________________________
The shop door closed with a soft chime as Eyan disappeared into the night.
For a moment, the woman stood still behind the counter.
Then—
A slow smile curved her lips.
"Emperor…" she murmured softly.
Her fingers traced the edge of the counter, almost amused.
"No matter how hard you try…"
Her eyes glinted with something ancient. Knowing.
"…you can't change it."
A faint chuckle escaped her.
"Dragon king Zeradros will be born… as your son."
The air in the shop shifted—subtle, but heavy.
She turned slightly—
And her gaze fell upon the mirror hanging on the wall.
But the reflection… Was not her own.
Where a simple shopkeeper stood— In the mirror stood a divine figure, radiant and untouchable.
Her true form.
Goddess Liora
__________________________________
Eyan returned to the palace just as the sun dipped below the horizon, a small wrapped vial of tonic tucked securely in his inner pocket.
The woman's words still echoed faintly in his mind.
"Take it a day before sharing the bed with your wife…"
He muttered under his breath as he walked the long corridor toward his chambers.
A day before you share a bed with Eva—"
Then he stopped mid-step.
Wedding night.
"…Wait."
His brows slowly furrowed.
"If I'm getting married… then there will be a wedding night too."
Silence.
Eyan stared ahead, realization dawning far too late.
"…I don't know anything about that." A long pause. "…I didn't learn."
He had rejected that book twice, shoved it away like it was poison.
"…Damn it."
He turned sharply and headed straight for the palace library instead of his chambers.
----------------------------------------------------
The library was dim, lit only by a few enchanted lanterns. Eyan moved with purpose, fingers tracing the shelves until he found it—the dark leather-bound book, exactly where he had shoved it last time.
He pulled it out, glanced around to make sure no one was watching, then carried it to a secluded corner table. Heart beating faster than he cared to admit, he sat down and opened it.
The first pages were introductions.
*How to begin. How to read her signals. Consent. Patience.*
Then the illustrations started.
Eyan's grip tightened on the edges of the book.
The drawings were detailed—far too detailed.
A man positioned behind a woman, her back arched. Another with her legs wrapped around him. One where she was on top, guiding him.
"What… the hell is this position?" he whispered, tilting his head. "That cannot be comfortable. How does one even… balance like that?"
He flipped the page. His ears began to burn.
Another drawing—slow, deep penetration, the woman's face contorted in pleasure.
Eyan's throat went dry. He swallowed hard, but it didn't help.
He kept reading.
The text described touching, kissing, preparation. How a woman's body needed time to become ready. How to use fingers, tongue, how to listen to her moans.
Eyan's body reacted against his will. Heat pooled low in his stomach. His lower body slowly hardening. He shifted uncomfortably in the chair, legs pressing together.
Eva…
The thought came unbidden.
Eva beneath him, hair spread across the sheets, those sharp eyes softened with desire, lips parted as she gasped his name. Eva's legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him deeper. Eva moaning while he—
He slammed the book half-shut for a moment, breathing hard.
"…Focus," he growled at himself.
But he opened it again.
The more he read, the worse it became. His face was flushed, skin fever-hot. His throat felt parched. Every muscle in his body was tense, He could feel a bead of sweat sliding down his back.
He turned another page.
"For many women, the wedding night is deeply important. It is the first true union. If the husband is clumsy, selfish, or unable to bring her pleasure, some women lose respect and affection. In rare cases, they may even choose to leave or remain distant."
Eyan's eyes widened.
"Leave…?" he whispered, shocked. "Eva would… leave me?"
The thought sent a sharp pang through his chest. No. Absolutely not. He could not allow that. He would not fail Eva on the most important night of their union.
His expression hardened with determination. He sat up straighter and continued reading more seriously, absorbing every word, every technique, every warning.
--------------------------------------------
Later in the book, a new section appeared:
"Remember: Do not engage in any penetrative or heavy physical intimacy while your wife is on her monthly cycle. It can be uncomfortable or painful for her."
Eyan frowned, confused.
"Monthly cycle…?"
He had heard the term once or twice in passing but never understood it.
He closed the book, stood up, and began searching the shelves again. After several minutes, he found a thinner, more clinical volume titled
*The Female Body: Physiology and Care*.
He brought it back to the table and opened it.
The diagrams were different—clinical, labeled. He read about the menstrual cycle. The bleeding. The cramps. The hormonal shifts. Mood swings. Breast tenderness. Fatigue. The pain some women endured every month, as if their bodies were punishing them for not being pregnant.
"…This is what women go through?" he muttered, turning the page. "Every single month?"
He read about how the uterus shed its lining, the contractions, the blood loss. How some women could barely stand from the pain. How others hid it behind smiles and continued their duties.
He imagined Eva—strong, proud Eva—silently bearing this every month. The thought made something twist inside him.
He kept reading, page after page. The more he learned, the heavier his heart felt.
"…They endure all of this, and I knew nothing." His voice was low, almost ashamed. "I really am ignorant."
Eyan closed the second book and leaned back in the chair, staring at the ceiling. His face was still warm, but now for entirely different reasons. The earlier heat in his body had cooled, replaced by a strange, protective resolve.
He looked back at the dark leather book.
He would study it properly. Not just once. Multiple times if needed.
For Eva.
He would not fail her.
------------------------------------------------------
(Scene — Sweet Trouble)Two days later, the capital was lively with soft chatter and movement.
Eyan and Eva walked side by side through the market street, though "walking calmly" was only true for one of them.
Eva looked relaxed.
Eyan… did not.
His posture was straight, his expression controlled—but his mind had been anything but peaceful these past two days.
(That book was a mistake.)
"…Over here," Eva said, gently tugging his sleeve.
He followed her into a small jewelry shop.
—----
The shopkeeper greeted them warmly as they began looking through rings.
Gold. Gemstones. Intricate designs.
Eyan glanced at them briefly… then looked away.
Too much. Too flashy.
"…This one," Eva said softly.
Eyan looked down.
A simple silver ring.
No excessive design. Just clean. Elegant.
Quiet.
Like her.
"…It suits you," he said without thinking.
Eva smiled. "Then we'll take two."
______________________
Later—
They sat in a cozy restaurant.
Eva, happily, had already ordered. Eyan didn't even ask what it was.
A few minutes later, the dessert arrived. Chocolate cake.
Eva's eyes lit up instantly. She picked up her fork and took a bite, clearly pleased.
Eyan watched her for a moment.
Then—
"…Eva."
She looked up. "Hm?"
"…There's something on your lips."
"…Oh."
She blinked, then smiled casually. "Can you wipe it for me?"
Eyan froze.
"…What?"
"You pointed it out," she said simply. "So you should fix it."
"That's not how—"
But she was already leaning slightly closer.
Waiting.
Eyan stared at her. At her lips. There was, indeed, a faint trace of chocolate.
"…This is simple," he told himself quietly.
He reached out. Slowly. Carefully. His fingers brushed against her lips—
Soft....Warm.
—
His brain stopped working.
Completely.
—
Eyan's eyes widened slightly.
His face instantly flushed crimson.
He pulled back quickly and dropped into his seat like he'd been burned.
Eva licked the spot he had just touched, completely unaware (or pretending to be). "Thank you."
Eyan nodded stiffly, grabbing his water glass. But his traitor eyes kept drifting back to her lips.
Every time she took another bite of cake, his mind — poisoned by two days of secretly studying that damned book — supplied vivid, unhelpful images.
Kiss her. Push her back against the chair, kiss her, then—
No. Stop. You are not some animal from page 47.
But her lips look so soft… the book said to start slow, tease the bottom lip first, then—
SHUT UP.
—
His eyes were still fixed on her lips.
Unmoving...Unblinking.
—
"…Kyel?"
He didn't respond.
(What would it feel like—)
"…Kyel?"
Still nothing.
(Would it be soft like—)
"KYEL."
"…Kiss."
Silence.
__
Eyan froze.
Eva blinked. "…What?"
His soul left his body.
"…I—" His face turned completely red in an instant. "I mean—cake!"
He pointed aggressively at the dessert like it had personally betrayed him.
"The cake—looks—kiss—no—I mean—it looks good!"
…
Silence.
—
Eva stared at him. Then slowly… smiled.
"…You're acting strange today."
"I'm not," he said immediately.
Eva laughed softly. Eyan looked away again, refusing to meet her eyes.
(I am never reading that book again.)
…
(…Maybe just once more.)
His gaze drifted—again—back to her lips.
—
And this time—
He quickly grabbed his water and drank it. Like that would solve everything...
.
.
To be continued—