The moment lingered like a held breath. His hand had brushed hers, a simple touch, yet it carried the weight of inevitability. She had tried to steady herself, tried to breathe, but the words that left his lips cut through every thought she had.
"I want you," he declared, voice low, unwavering. "Not a fleeting desire, not a convenience. You. Only you."
The hall fell silent. Courtiers froze mid-step, and even the king and queen's eyes widened, though they did not move to interrupt.
Her chest tightened, but she did not falter. She did not show him her pulse racing, her mind spiraling at the enormity of his claim. This was a moment meant for witnesses, and she would not betray the tremor of her heart in front of them.
His gaze swept over the royal parents, sharp and commanding. There was no pleading in it, no room for debate.
"She is the one I will take," he said, each word ringing in the grand hall like a decree. "Prepare her chambers. Ensure nothing is lacking. She will leave her home for mine. Do not hesitate, do not falter. This is my will."
The king bowed stiffly, caught between astonishment and respect. The queen's lips pressed into a thin line, but her hands moved as commanded, issuing silent orders to the attendants. No one dared question him. His presence brooked no denial, no negotiation.
She remained composed, standing straight and silent, letting him handle the declaration. Only in the quiet of her chambers, later, did she allow herself to exhale, gripping the hands of her closest maid.
"I… I don't know if I can leave everything behind," she whispered to Liora, voice trembling just enough to betray her nerves.
"You will be fine, my lady," Liora said softly, brushing a stray lock of hair from her face. "He… he has chosen you, and that choice is yours now, too."
She nodded, forcing calm, even as the thought of leaving her home, the halls she had walked since childhood, pressed like a weight on her chest.
The wedding had passed in a blur of ceremonial chants, declarations, and the keen eyes of an entire court watching. Finally, she stepped into the gilded carriage prepared for her departure. The velvet cushions were soft, the wheels creaking against the ancient cobblestones as the gates closed behind them.
She leaned slightly toward Liora, voice a whisper only her maid could hear: "Why a carriage? Couldn't we… fly?"
Liora's eyes flickered with surprise, but before she could answer, his voice cut through the cool evening air.
"I will not risk you," he said, stepping beside the carriage as though appearing from the shadows. His eyes gleamed with that calm, dangerous authority. "You are fragile. I will not allow you to be harmed."
Her pulse quickened, but she did not meet his gaze. Instead, she clutched the edges of her gown and allowed herself a tiny sigh of relief, shared only with Liora. He said it like a statement of fact, an unyielding law, and the carriage began its slow journey toward his castle.
The distant towers of his home loomed, dark and silent, waiting to receive her. She pressed her fingers to the seat beside her, heart thrumming with anticipation, fear, and a strange, thrilling sense of inevitability.