The princess's chamber filled with a dense, almost reverent silence. Lusian collapsed onto the bed in exhaustion; Elizabeth, still breathing fast, let herself fall over him, her forehead resting against his collarbone as if she needed to anchor him to reality.
Her arms wrapped around him with a strength she never showed anyone else.
"Not again…" she whispered—not in weakness, but in wounded pride. "I will not wait eight months for you again, Lusian. I've… I've already endured that once."
Lusian felt the force of her hold.It was not the embrace of a fragile woman.It was the grip of a princess accustomed to never being defied… except by him.
He closed his eyes for a moment, letting her presence envelop him.
Elizabeth smelled of lilies… but also of something he recognized without knowing why: a sensation, an echo, a trace of memory that was not his own, yet the body he inhabited seemed to remember.
Vague fragments.Shadows of a childhood he had not lived, yet this body carried like softened scars.
Blurred images:
The little girl watching him from the top of a staircase, waiting for him to bow.Her frustration when she realized he would not.The small, silent war between them… a war the original Lusian had known, though Erwin could only feel it as a distant pulse.
They were borrowed memories, but the emotional weight remained, trapped in the body and in the way she touched him now.
"I know you don't want us to part," he murmured. "Neither do I. I'll do what I must to return soon. This time… I'm leaving to prepare. When all of this is over… I'll take you with me to the duchy."
She lifted her head sharply, her eyes bright yet tense, as if fearing the promise might be a lie.
Elizabeth never begged.Never doubted.But now… she trembled against him.
"Do you swear it?" she asked, and the question carried an edge. "And I don't want an empty oath, Lusian Douglas. Not from you."
He cupped her cheek, the slow caress contrasting with her fierce pride.
"I swear. And you know that even when I ignored you… I never broke my word."
She pressed her lips together, as if holding back something she would never admit aloud.
"You always ignored me…" she whispered, resentment and nostalgia entwined. "Everyone else bowed. Everyone else wanted to please me… except you."
She moved closer, resting her forehead against his. Her breathing trembled.
"And now you're… the only one I don't want to leave."
She kissed him then—not gently.
It was a restrained, desperate kiss, filled with anger and fear and fractured pride. A kiss that said don't go, without forcing her to endure the humiliation of speaking those words.
Her fingers clung to his back like when, as a child, she would seize his coat to force him to listen. Only now she held him so she would not lose him.
"I'll wait for you," she said, her voice hardening to protect herself. "However long it takes. Even if everything stands against us. But I will not allow you to disappear for another eight months. Not again."
Lusian felt the weight of her promise—and the sharpness of her warning.
"I won't disappear," he replied. "Not heroes, not heralds, not kings will decide for me this time."
Elizabeth buried her face in his neck, inhaling deeply, as though memorizing a scent she did not know when she would breathe again. Her grip did not loosen. Her body remained tense, as if letting go would mean admitting the possibility of losing him.
When he rose to dress, she caught his wrist with a firm, almost painful grasp.
There was no trace of the perfect princess now.Only a woman on the verge of breaking.
"Lusian…" she whispered, without mask or pride. "Don't be long."
The words, spoken by the princess who had made half the kingdom kneel, carried devastating weight.
He kissed her forehead with a gentleness that existed only between them.
"I'll return before you have the chance to try and annoy me again."
She released a fractured breath—half laugh, half sob.
And as the door closed behind him, Elizabeth remained seated on the bed, clutching the sheets in her fists, feeling the world pull them apart once more…
But this time, she was willing to fight destiny, the gods, and even the crown itself if she had to.