Was it love at first sight?"
He laughed bitterly under his breath quiet, hollow. If only she knew.
No. It wasn't love at first sight. It wasn't anything close to that.
Because the first time he laid eyes on her, she was only thirteen just a child with wide, curious eyes and no understanding of the world her father had shattered. She stood on the castle balcony of Eldrida, surrounded by golden light and luxury, while his own kingdom lay in ashes behind him. She was smiling then. Carefree. Untouched.
And he hated her.
He wanted to hate her.
The daughter of the man who tore his family apart. The princess of a kingdom built on blood and conquest. To Asher, she was nothing more than a symbol of cruelty dressed in silk.
But when he looked at her truly looked ,he saw no malice. No pride. Just innocence.
That day haunted him.
He returned to Eldrida again and again, cloaked in lies—sometimes as a stable boy, sometimes a wandering knight, sometimes just another nameless servant in the background. Always watching. Always looking for a reason to hate her again.
But he never found it.
Instead, He saw kindness in her steps, softness in her silence, and confusion in her eyes when the world demanded cruelty from her.
And he started to understand.
She wasn't his enemy. She never had been.
She was a prisoner in a prettier cage.
Tonight, after speaking with her ,after seeing that red imprint on her cheek on the other day, a storm rose in him. Not anger. No, not even hatred. It was something deeper. Something colder and more dangerous.
He saw himself in her.
Another victim. Another soul shackled by a tyrant in royal garb.
And gods help him, he wanted to protect her. Not because she was fragile but because she didn't deserve to fight alone anymore.
Because maybe just maybe they didn't have to be broken pieces in someone else's war.
Asher exhaled slowly, his hands curling into fists against the stone ledge.
"It wasn't love at first sight, Stephania," he whispered to the wind. "But it might become something stronger than that."
The palace bells rang slowly, one after the other, echoing through the high marble halls like a heartbeat.
Stephania walked forward, each step measured, graceful. Her gown trailed behind her like a whispered promise soft ivory silk embroidered with golden threads that caught the light like fireflies. A delicate veil rested over her silver-blonde hair, half pinned back with white lilies. Her skin glowed like moonlight kissed by the sun, her eyes steady but soft.
She was beautiful but today ,she was unforgettable
When she stepped into the grand hall, everything seemed to still.
Asher turned.
And for a long moment, he forgot how to breathe.
There were hundreds of faces, guards lining the walls, nobles sitting tall in their finery, even her father watching like stone but Asher only saw her.
His chest tightened painfully. He had seen warriors in battle, had walked through ruins and fire. But nothing had ever struck him down like the sight of Stephania walking toward him, glowing like something the world had no right to touch.
He whispered under his breath, "How can she be real?"
As she reached him, Stephania lifted her eyes to meet his.
Up close, she could see it how his breath caught, how his lips parted in awe. He wasn't hiding it, not today.
Asher stood tall beside her, impossibly composed, yet every bit real.
Stephania let her eyes linger for the first time, truly look at him. And he was beautiful.
Not the delicate, polished beauty of palace courtiers. No, Asher's beauty was bolder striking. He was tall, broad-shouldered. His dark hair fell in soft waves just past his ears, a little undone, like he never cared to tame it completely. It suited him. The white and gold of his royal suit brought out the dark warmth of his eyes. His hair was slightly tousled, like he'd been running his hands through it, nervous. But what caught her most wasn't his tall and farm body or his sharp jawline. It was the way he looked at her like he didn't know if he deserved to.
He was beautiful in a way that didn't demand attention but held it anyway. Not like the princes in stories. More real. More broken. More hers.
She took a quiet breath.
"This is the man I chose."
And somehow, for the first time in her life, that thought didn't feel like a chain.
It felt like freedom.
As they stood beneath the grand arch woven with white roses and Eldridan silk, Asher leaned in, his voice low, meant only for her.
"I'm the luckiest man alive to be your husband," he said, eyes never leaving hers.
Then, without a second's hesitation, he gently lifted her hand and pressed a kiss to her knuckles slow, reverent, like he was touching something sacred.
The ceremony began.
Vows were spoken and rings exchanged under the watchful eye of old gods and new witnesses. It all happened quickly, but for Stephania, time moved strangely rushed and still all at once. Her heart beat loudly in her ears, not out of fear, but uncertainty. A thousand questions still rested inside her, heavy and unanswered.
Then it ended. Just like that.
The priest stepped back. Applause filled the hall.
Asher turned to her slowly, his hand finding hers. Stephania felt her breath catch, her lips part just slightly unsure of what came next. Was he going to kiss her? Her pulse quickened.
But Asher only smiled.
Instead of her lips, he leaned forward and pressed a kiss to her forehead, soft and unhurried. The touch lingered for a heartbeat.
He pulled back and whispered, just for her, "You won't regret this decision, Stephania. I swear it."
And in that moment, some of the weight she carried the doubt, the fear, the ache of being unwanted for so long softened. Not vanished. But softened.
Because maybe, just maybe
She had married a stranger.
But not a monster.
The doors to the royal chamber closed behind them with a soft thud, leaving only silence between them.
Stephania stepped forward, her hands still wrapped around each other, She didn't look at him at first, only stared out through the open window, where the wind tugged gently at the silk curtains.
"I want to make something clear," she said finally, voice even but low. "I may be your wife now but I was born in Eldrida. And I will keep working for its people. I hope you have not forgot our promise"
There was a moment of stillness.
And then Asher smiled.
Not the amused, royal smile he wore in public. A real one—soft, proud, and full of something deeper.
"My princess," he said, stepping closer, "you're not just my wife . You are the Queen of Vorga now. My equal."
He reached out slowly, gently taking her hand.
"You can do whatever you want. For Eldrida, for the people, for yourself. I won't stop you. I'll stand beside you. Not in your way."
"You mean that?" she asked quietly.
Asher nodded. "Every word. You've spent too long being told what you can't do. That ends now."
For the first time in days, something inside her softened. She didn't smile not yet but her fingers didn't pull away from his.