The private solar on Rodus was warm with morning light, its tall windows spilling gold across the marble floors. Illiana stood near the balcony, hands clasped behind her back, trying and failing to read the reports projected before her. Her thoughts were elsewhere.
Princess Milena, her sister. Entered without waiting to be announced. Unlike Illiana, Milena never moved quietly; her heels clicked sharply, her presence always announced in sound and force.
"I've been looking everywhere for you," Milena said, folding her arms. "You missed council breakfast."
"I was not hungry," Illiana said softly.
Milena studied her. "You haven't been hungry in weeks."
Illiana didn't answer. She simply turned toward the balcony, gaze drifting over the sprawling city below, as if searching for something in the skyline.
Or someone.
Milena sighed, walked up beside her, and placed a gentle but firm hand on her arm.
"Illy… you have to stop this."
"Stop what?" Illiana asked, though she knew exactly what.
"Waiting for him," Milena said bluntly.
Illiana's jaw tightened. "I am not..."
"Yes, you are." Milena stepped in front of her, blocking her view. "Every day you stand at this balcony. Every time a ship passes through the central lane, you look up like he might be on it. You keep his ring on a chain beneath your robes. You barely sleep."
Illiana's voice turned to steel. "I am not discussing this."
"But you will," Milena insisted. "Because I am your sister. And I tire of watching you live half a life for a man who may never return. No man deserves such devotion."
Illiana's breath shuddered. She looked away, but Milena was not finished.
"Leonidas is" She hesitated.
"Illy, he's gone. He hasn't sent word in a year. No letters. No messages."
"That does not mean he is gone," Illiana said, quiet but unwavering.
Milena exhaled sharply. "But he is not here either."
Silence simmered between them. Illiana's hands trembled slightly, but she hid them behind her back.
Milena softened. "You are a princess. You have a life to live. You cannot pause the entire seven galaxies waiting for a banished mercenary who..."
Illiana's head snapped up, eyes fierce.
"Do not speak anymore, sister."
Milena's voice gentled. "I do not wish to wound you."
"But you are," Illiana said. Her voice was steady, but her eyes glistened.
"What you asks of me. To pretend he did not change my life. That he did not vow himself to me. That we did not risk everything for each other. That he did not forge a ring with his own hands and place it on mine when we were sixteen."
Milena's expression faltered. "Illy…"
Illiana stepped back, her composure returning like a rising tide.
"You think I haven't considered moving on? You think I haven't lain awake at night wondering if I'm a fool?"
She pressed a hand to her heart. "But every time I try to let go… I can feel him. Out there. Fighting. Surviving. Trying to come home."
Milena shook her head sadly. "Hope can be poison."
"Hope is all I have left," Illiana whispered.
Her voice was soft, but unbreakable.
Milena's shoulders slumped. "I just want you to be happy."
"I will be," Illiana said, turning back toward the balcony. "When he returns."
"And if he doesn't?"
Illiana closed her eyes.
"I'll love him still. Even if it hurts."
Milena swallowed hard, unable to argue with that kind of devotion, stubborn, beautiful, tragic.
After a long moment. She gently wrapped her arms around Illiana's shoulders. Illiana leaned into her, just slightly.
"You are impossible," Milena murmured.
"I know," Illiana said.
"Yet I love you," Milena added.
"I know that too."
They stood together in the quiet morning light. Ships drifted across the sky, gleaming like falling stars.
Illiana didn't speak it aloud, but her heart said it anyway:
Come home, Star of my sky. I'm still here. I'm still yours.