Arvin guided Mirha to a cushioned seat near the low table, then sat beside her—close enough that their knees almost touched.
"You will stay in the Imperial Palace for a while," he said gently. "I hope that is alright with you."
Mirha offered him a soft smile. "Of course, Your Majesty."
Arvin's lips curved, relief easing his features. "Good. And one more thing…" His voice lowered, protective. "If anyone requests an audience with you, you may decline. No one has the right to impose on you."
Mirha blinked, narrowing her eyes a little. "What kind of visitors, Your Majesty?"
"Any," Arvin answered simply. "Nobles, princesses… even duchesses. Whoever they may be."
Mirha understood immediately. The palace could be merciless with curiosity. "And if I do want to see them?" she asked.
"Then you may," Arvin replied. "It will always be your choice."
Her smile brightened, warm and sincere. "Thank you."
Arvin's gaze softened. He leaned slightly closer, intending to kiss her—
A sharp knock cut through the quiet.
Arvin's jaw tensed in clear annoyance. He exhaled slowly, then said, "Enter."
The door slid open and Heman stepped inside, acting as if nothing was amiss. He bowed respectfully.
"Your Majesty," he said in a composed tone, "I have a report. And… Imperial General Prince Kain has arrived."
Arvin dismissed the matter with a small nod toward Heman.
"Escort Mirha to her chambers," he ordered—his chambers as well, though he did not say it aloud.
Heman bowed and departed quickly to carry out the command.
Moments later, the doors opened again. This time, Prince Kain strode in, brushing dust from his cloak. The two brothers had not seen each other for nearly two weeks—each swallowed by their own duties.
"Hello, little brother," Kain greeted with an easy smirk.
Arvin barely lifted a brow. "Hi, Kain."
Kain clicked his tongue. "Come on, Your Majesty, at least pretend to be cheerful. You're finally getting laid."
Arvin's gaze turned ice-cold—sharp enough to slit a man's throat without a blade.
Kain froze mid-breath. "Alright, alright—sorry. Saints above, if looks could kill…" he muttered, shaking his head.
Arvin remained silent, the air tightening around them until Kain cleared his throat and abandoned the teasing.
"Anyway—back to the real matter." His tone shifted to formal. "Her Majesty the Empress has safely arrived in the Bukid Kingdom. The men I sent returned with confirmation today."
"Good," Arvin said curtly.
Kain continued, flipping through a few written reports. "And… news of the Precious Concubine has already reached Kamaya Kingdom."
Arvin's head snapped up, gaze locking onto him. "So—does Mother approve?"
Kain blinked, taken aback. "Of all people, you're worried about the wrong person." He rubbed his forehead in disbelief. "But yes—Mother was glad."
Arvin frowned slightly. "Then who should I be concerned for?"
Kain waved a hand. "Nevermind. It'll sort itself out."
Arvin didn't push; he never chased explanations that didn't matter to him.
Kain rolled the scroll shut. "Since Her Highness Mirha is here, Goya will be pleased to see her."
Arvin nodded once. "I doubt Mirha would refuse. She seems comfortable enough—so sure, she can come."
"Good." Kain stood, adjusting his belt. He gave Arvin a lazy salute and said, "Well then—good night, Your Majesty."
With that, he left, the doors sliding shut behind him.
Arvin dismissed the last of the servants and finally made his way to his chambers. He expected the room to be dim, quiet, untouched since he had only been gone for a short while—but when he stepped inside, he froze.
Mirha was already asleep.
He glanced toward the hourglass on the table. Barely fifteen minutes had passed since Heman led her away. She must have been exhausted.
Arvin softened despite himself.
He took a slow shower, steam filling the chamber, then returned to the dimly lit room. Mirha hadn't moved. He slipped into the bed carefully, the warmth of her body faint but comforting.
He turned his head—and paused.
Her mouth was slightly parted, her cheek squished into her arm, a tiny trail of drool at the corner of her lips. She looked nothing like the graceful, composed lady the palace saw during the day. She looked… human. Innocent. Almost childlike.
Cute.
His gaze drifted lower—to her neck. The faint hickeys he'd left the night before were still visible, soft reminders of how tightly she had clung to him. A quiet, satisfied smirk tugged at his lips.
He leaned in, brushed a light kiss against her cheek, and only then allowed himself to settle beside her, her breathing pulling him into sleep.
---
When dawn crept through the lattice windows, Mirha stirred first.
Her lashes fluttered before she blinked herself awake—and the first thing she saw was him. Arvin, sleeping beside her, the morning light catching the sharp lines of his jaw, softening him in a way she had never seen before.
Mirha lay there, half-awake, simply staring at him. Her mind slowly caught up with her eyes—her husband, her Emperor, was inches away. His hair was tousled from sleep, his lips relaxed. She felt the warmth of his chest where the blankets had slipped.
For a long moment, she didn't move. She just breathed, quiet and still, the reality of their closeness settling into her bones.
Arvin's lashes lifted slowly, the remnants of sleep still heavy in his eyes—only to find Mirha staring at him. She didn't look away. She didn't panic. She simply… watched him, as though trying to understand something she hadn't noticed before.
Neither spoke.
Silence stretched gently between them, warm and strangely intimate.
Finally, Mirha whispered, "Good morning."
Arvin's voice was husky with sleep as he murmured back, "Morning."
He held her gaze a moment longer before they both eased out of the blankets and began to prepare for the day. Servants entered quietly, assisting them as they washed and dressed, but the atmosphere remained soft—unspoken, but full.
---
They had breakfast in the palace garden, beneath the shade of tall willow trees. Mirha sat across from him, still a little shy, still stealing glances at him when she thought he wasn't looking. Arvin noticed every single one.
He was just beginning to speak to her about the day's plans when a voice echoed lightly across the garden.
"Your Majesty!"
Princess Goya.
Mirha straightened politely.
Goya approached with her usual bright energy, bowing first to Arvin, then smiling at Mirha.
Arvin rose to his feet.
"I'll leave you two to spend time together," he said, looking at Mirha a fraction longer than necessary—an unspoken reassurance.
Then he excused himself, walking away with that calm, deliberate stride that always seemed to command the air around him.
Mirha watched him go, her heart feeling oddly full.
Goya settled into her seat and took a long, unabashed look at Mirha.
She looked… radiant.
The jewellery glimmered softly against her skin, her gown flowed like liquid silk, and the quiet confidence she carried made her seem almost ethereal. For a moment, Goya could only stare—because the Mirha sitting before her looked nothing like the lady-in-waiting she used to walk the palace halls with. Next to her, even Goya's own fine dress felt like a servant's garb.
A slow smile crept onto Goya's face.
Kain was right, she thought. Arvin is going to treat her well… very well.
Mirha waved her hand across Goya's face.
"Hello? Earth to Goya?"
Goya jolted out of her thoughts, and the two of them immediately burst into laughter.
"I missed you," Goya said between giggles. "And I'm so—"
Mirha cut her off gently.
"What is bad about this? Look at these clothes, the jewellery, a whole estate of my own… What's the tragedy, exactly?"
Goya laughed.
"You are right, Your Highness," she teased, giving an exaggerated seated bow.
Mirha covered her mouth as she laughed harder, and the two girls dissolved into another fit of giggles—loud enough that passing servants exchanged amused glances.
Just then, a bright voice echoed from the entrance of the garden.
"Mirha!"
The Duchess of Magili, Gina, strode in with a wide smile. Mirha turned, equally delighted, and Goya grinned knowingly. Mirha stood, and Gina swept her into a tight hug.
"I missed you so much," Gina said into her shoulder.
Mirha laughed. "I missed you too."
Gina pulled back, her eyes narrowing mischievously as she looked Mirha up and down.
"You've gained weight."
Mirha fired back instantly, "And you've lost weight."
Gina rolled her eyes dramatically. "You know the Duke."
Mirha smirked. "And you know the Emperor."
All three girls burst into unrestrained laughter, the sound ringing brightly through the garden.
---
Across the courtyard, Arvin and Rnzo stood by a balcony rail, observing the scene from a distance.
Rnzo nudged his brother lightly.
"I wonder what they're laughing about."
Arvin let out a rare soft chuckle. "Me too."
Rnzo glanced at Mirha—her smile wide, her eyes glowing, her hands animated as she spoke.
"She looks happy."
Arvin's gaze lingered on her, warm and full of something gentle.
"I hope so too," he murmured.