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The wind moved gently through the old stone arches of the garden, sweeping rose petals across the soft grass as if the world was pausing—holding its breath for the two who knelt beneath the trellis.
Rowen's arms were still wrapped tightly around me, his chin resting lightly atop my head as I clung to him, my hands fisted in the back of his uniform.
The sobs had quieted now, though my breath still came in short, uneven pulls.
I pulled back just slightly, my eyes red and glassy, my lips trembling.
"I thought I'd never see you again,"
I whispered, voice fragile and hoarse.
Rowen looked down at me like I was made of glass and fire all at once.
"Every day I dreamed of you," he said, brushing my damp hair from my face.
"Even when I was bleeding, cold, alone… You were the only thing that kept me alive."
I closed my eyes, tears falling again.
He lifted my chin gently, his thumb stroking my cheek with a reverence that bordered on worship.
"I came back for you, Evelynne. I came back because I still—"
He couldn't say it. The word sat on his tongue like something sacred.
And then—
My lips were on his.
Soft.
Trembling.
But full of everything I hadn't said for years.
The kiss wasn't perfect, too desperate, too emotional—but it was real.
It was us.
All the lost time.
All the heartbreak.
All the love still buried in silence.
Rowen pulled me closer, pressing his forehead to mine, our breaths tangled.
"I love you," he finally said, quietly.
"Gods, I love you."
I nodded against him, tears still falling.
"Me too," I whispered, brokenly. "Always…"
The world felt still.
Peaceful.
Until—
SLAM!
The garden doors burst open.
I jolted, heart leaping as I pulled away.
Rye stood in the doorway, jaw clenched so hard his entire frame looked rigid with fury.
His chest rose and fell like he'd been running.
Behind him, my parents stood in stunned silence, eyes wide.
For a moment, everything was still.
Rowen's arms were still around me. My fingers were still on his chest.
our lips were still swollen from the kiss.
The scent of roses hung thick in the air.
But Rye's eyes…
Burned.
He looked like a man betrayed.
A man whose entire future had just shattered in front of him.
"What the hell is this?" he hissed.
I froze.
Rowen slowly stood, shielding me slightly, though I stood as well, my hands falling to my sides, my breath still shaking.
My mother stepped forward.
"Evelynne…?" she whispered, clearly in shock.
"Is this…?"
Neither of us answered.
Rye took a step forward, his voice rising.
"You said you hated him," he spat.
"You said he was your past!"
"I never said that!" I snapped, voice raw now.
"Don't twist my words!"
My father raised a hand. "That's enough.."
"No," Rye barked, turning to him.
"You said she was mine! You promised!"
Rowen stepped forward, eyes flashing.
"She is not anyone's to be promised."
Silence fell again, so sharp it could cut.
My mother looked between us all, her hand on her chest, unable to speak.
The King's face was unreadable—his mind clearly racing, torn between duty and the raw truth unfolding before him.
I stood between the men, still breathless, my cheeks flushed, my tears not yet dry.
I looked at Rye, his face twisted with rage.
I looked at Rowen, whose eyes were full of pain, yes, but also… love.
My mother then raised a hand.
"Evelynne," she said gently.
"Wait outside."
I opened my mouth, confused, then met my father's eyes.
He understood.
This wasn't for me.
Not yet.
"Let's go," My father said, his gaze locked on Rowen
I nodded slowly, my face hardening as I turned, the door quietly closing behind me.
Inside, my mother took her place before both young men.
Her tone was soft, but unshakable.
"Rowen. Rye," she said, her hands folded.
"This moment was inevitable."
Rowen said nothing, but his eyes flickered toward the door where I had stood.
The Queen continued, her voice calm.
"I saw the way she looked at you, Rowen."
His throat tensed.
She glanced at Rye, who hadn't moved.
"And I have also watched her, in these past five years, break apart piece by piece — trying to be everything for everyone while carrying the weight of your absence."
Rowen lowered his eyes.
Rye, to his credit, said nothing.
But the tension in his stance was plain.
She exhaled quietly. "You must know… things have changed. Greatly."
She turned toward Rowen again.
"And you must also know — Evelynne is no longer the girl you left behind."
A beat of silence.
Then she delivered the final blow.
"She and Rye… are in a relationship now."
Rowen didn't flinch.
But something in his chest twisted so violently he almost couldn't breathe.
He swallowed hard. "Is that… what she wants?" he asked, his voice low.
My mother looked at him for a long moment.
Her silence said more than any words could.
"She believes she has no choice," she said softly.
Rowen blinked.
Then Rye finally spoke, his voice hard.
"She chose me."
"No,"
My mother snapped, finally turning her gaze on Rye, sharp as a blade.
"She accepted you. Out of duty. Out of exhaustion. But never… out of love."
The room froze.
Rye's lips parted slightly, but no words came.
She looked once more at Rowen, her tone gentler now.
"You came back, yes. But you returned to a kingdom with cracks."
"I know," Rowen said quietly.
"Then you also know…" she paused,
"if you truly love her, you must fight for her."
She turned and walked toward the door.
But before she left, she added, "And if you don't… Rye will win."
And with that, she stepped out, the door closing softly behind her, leaving both men standing in a storm of silence.