The palace was in chaos. Every corridor echoed with the sounds of hurried boots and shouted commands. The princess was gone—vanished into the night with the devil himself. The scandal rippled through the kingdom like wildfire, staining the royal name with whispers of disgrace and betrayal.
"Find her!" the Queen had shrieked, fury and fear mingling in her voice. "Bring her back, even if it means dragging her through the mud!"
Dozens of guards scoured the land, weapons drawn, hearts cold with loyalty. They knew what was at stake. The princess had run away. Not just from her duties or crown… but with _him_.
"There they are!" a voice rang out from the cliffs.
Isabel's breath caught in her throat. "They've spotted us," Xavier said, pulling her by the wrist as they dashed toward the woods.
Their carriage had broken down earlier — the wheel cracked and useless. Fate, it seemed, had stripped away their last option for escape. Now they had only their legs, their will, and each other.
The forest was thick, a maze of branches and shadows, but they didn't stop. Not even when the ground beneath them gave way to roots and stones. Behind them, the guards closed in — faster, louder, closer.
Finally, they stopped. Surrounded. Torches lit the darkness as a ring of armed men slowly drew in. Steel glinted. Orders were whispered.
From among them, Dylan stepped forward — he was the general, a man who had watched Isabel grow from child to heir. His voice trembled slightly, though he masked it behind duty.
"Princess…" he said firmly, yet not unkindly. "This must end now. Come back. He's not worth your life… or your soul."
Isabel's eyes flicked over the line of blades before her, then shifted to Xavier, who stood beside her — still, silent, eyes glowing crimson beneath the moonlight. He wasn't breathing heavily like her. He wasn't afraid.
His crimson eyes were as cold ice. But she saw something else there. Confusion. A flicker of… concern?
She stepped toward him. He looked down, puzzled as she rose on her toes and pressed her lips against his.
The kiss was brief — a soft defiance. A goodbye.
Xavier's eyes widened, caught off guard. She pulled back slowly, her breath warm against the cold air.
Then, she turned away from him and faced the guards, her back to the devil she had fallen for.
"Run," she whispered, steady and sure. "I'll cover you."
He didn't move.
"Please," she added, not turning to him this time. "It would be a disaster if we both die here tonight. One of us needs to make it out. Thank you for trying to help me… and I'm sorry. For dragging you into this mess."
Xavier took a step forward — but the look in her eyes froze him. She was choosing him… by choosing to stay behind.
He wanted to help her, but helping her means that he is dancing to the tune of the heaven. This girl is actually a distraction to his mission, he no longer owe her.
Then he turned — and vanished into the darkness.
And Isabel faced the storm alone, her heart heavy with the weight of her decision.