Eri Pov
A rare sense of peace settled in my chest as I sat beside her. This dinner was the only thing I had organized with absolute care since the coronation. I needed this—to be away from the prying eyes of the court, away from the lords who weigh every gesture for political gain. Here, in the heart of the maze, no one could judge the way my gaze lingered or the way my posture relaxed.
We were married for the sake of an alliance, a contract signed in blood and duty. But as the moonlight caught the silver in her eyes, I knew I wanted her to feel more than just "protected." I wanted her to feel essential. I wanted her to know that in this vast, cold palace, she was the only one I truly chose to be near.
We shared a small cake for dessert, the sweetness of the fruit filling the air. I found myself unable to look away. My eyes kept betraying me—drifting from her eyes down to her lips, then back again. I watched the way she ate, the way she breathed, the way the light made her skin look like porcelain.
Elara must have noticed my intense focus. She paused, a small piece of cake still near her mouth. "Do you... do you want to share this piece, too?" she asked softly, her voice trembling just a fraction.
I didn't think. I didn't plan. I simply moved.
I reached out, my thumb brushing against the corner of her lower lip to wipe away a tiny stray crumb. The skin was softer than I had imagined, warm and yielding. Instead of pulling away, I looked her dead in the eyes and tasted the sweetness from my own thumb.
"No," I murmured, my voice dropping to a low graze. "I've already tasted what I wanted."
The effect was instantaneous. Elara's face turned a deep, beautiful shade of crimson, her breath hitching as she stared at me in stunned silence. The air between us was no longer just cold night air; it was electric, heavy with a tension I wasn't yet ready to break.
Before I lost my composure entirely, I stood up abruptly. The Queen within me took over to hide the sudden racing of my own heart.
"Thank you for joining me for dinner, Elara," I said, my voice regaining its regal steady tone.
I picked up the lantern, the flame flickering against the glass. Without waiting for her to respond, I reached down and took her hand once more. Her palm was small and soft against mine, a perfect fit. I led her back through the narrow paths of the maze, my grip firm and possessive.
I didn't need to say anything else. As we walked back toward the palace under the silent stars, the warmth of her hand told me everything I needed to know. The alliance was just the beginning.
As we stepped back inside the palace walls, a heavy, deliberate silence greeted us. I had made sure of it. The West Wing was empty; not a single guard stood at their post, and the corridors were cleared of servants. I didn't want any witnesses to the way I was looking at her, or the way I refused to let go of her hand.
We stopped near the grand archway that separated our wings. Neither of us moved. We stood there, our hands still locked together, the warmth between our palms the only thing anchoring me to the spot.
I watched her. Elara looked up at me, her eyes wide and searching, her throat bobbing as she swallowed hard—once, twice. I knew I should let her go. I knew the "dinner" was over. But as I looked at her, I felt a strange, stubborn pull. This beautiful night, which I had curated so carefully, was coming to an end, and for the first time in my life, I found myself hating the sunrise.
The Uninvited Guest (Miya's POV)
"I am definitely lost," I whispered to myself, looking at the endless rows of identical stone pillars.
This palace was a nightmare to navigate. I should have stayed in Elara's room like a good friend, but my curiosity had gotten the better of me. I wanted to catch a glimpse of them returning from their secret dinner. But now, the hallways were eerily empty.
I turned a corner, heading toward the West Wing entrance, when suddenly, a slender but strong hand lunged out of the shadows.
Before I could scream, I was pulled back. A palm slammed over my mouth, muffling my cry. My eyes nearly popped out of my head in shock.
"Be quiet," a sharp, feminine voice hissed in my ear.
It was Lourice. She was leaning against me, her body tense and athletic. She was holding me close to keep me from stumbling, her hand firm over my lips. Even in the dark, I could see the stern, focused look in her eyes as she peered around the corner.
"Do not go in there," Lourice whispered, her voice a low command. "You will ruin the momentum they finally have. Unless you want to face the Queen's wrath for interrupting her, stay exactly where you are."
I froze, my breath hitching. Lourice was so close I could feel the silk of her uniform against my arm. She was the Queen's most trusted shadow, usually so cold and distant, but here she was, practically hugging me to keep me out of trouble.
Slowly, I felt Lourice's grip on my mouth begin to loosen. Her fingers slid away, but she stayed close, her shoulder brushing mine as we both hid in the darkness. We were two silent witnesses, watching the two Queens at the end of the hall, standing in a world of their own.