Kaelen's POV
The war lasted eleven days.
It took only one moment to lose her.
The battlefield was a mess of scorched trees, burnt armor, and blood-drenched soil. The wind carried ash and silence. My soldiers moved like shadows, retrieving the fallen, searching for life. I wasn't supposed to leave command—but something in my chest told me she was out there.
Bleeding.
Alone.
"General!" a soldier called from the ridge. "We found her!"
My heart stopped.
I ran. Faster than I ever had. Faster than when I was crowned, faster than when my father died in my arms.
And there she was.
Nernia.
Crushed beneath a half-burnt carriage, her body limp, hair matted with dirt and blood. Her chest rose—barely. Her armor was cracked open, a deep wound gaping across her side.
I dropped to my knees.
"No, no—Nernia, stay with me. Please."
Her eyelids fluttered. "Kaelen...you came."
"I'll always come for you." My voice broke. "Don't talk. Save your strength."
She gave me the faintest of smiles. "Told you I wasn't reckless."
I almost laughed through the burn in my throat. "You are the most reckless, stubborn, infuriating woman I've ever met. And if you die, I'll never forgive you."
But her eyes were closing again.
I lifted her into my arms.
I didn't feel the blood soaking through my armor.
I didn't care.
---
Two Days Later
Nernia's POV
Pain.
It was the first thing I felt.
Then came warmth.
And Kaelen.
He was beside me, seated in a chair pulled too close to the bed, dark circles beneath his eyes, his tunic wrinkled. His hand held mine like it was the only thing tethering him to earth.
When I stirred, his eyes shot open.
"Nernia."
"You stayed," I whispered, surprised at the roughness of my own voice.
He looked at me like I was the last star in the sky.
"You almost died," he said quietly. "I stayed because I didn't know how to breathe without you."
My eyes stung. "You said you couldn't love me."
"I lied."
My breath caught.
"I lied," he repeated, brushing a strand of hair from my forehead. "Because I thought loving you would break me. But not loving you—watching you nearly die—broke me worse."
He pressed his forehead to my hand, his voice thick. "You're the only thing I have that's real."
Tears slipped down my cheeks silently.
Maybe love wasn't something you confessed in gardens or whispered under moonlight.
Maybe it was this—
The silence after a storm.
A warm hand holding yours through the dark.
The promise that even when the world burns, someone will stay.
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