The palace was quiet again.
But this time, it wasn't fear.
It was waiting.
Waiting for something to break.
Or something to heal.
---
Elara stood in the royal garden, the moonlight silvering her hair, her thoughts heavy. She hadn't seen Kael since the Assembly. Not truly. Not without armor. Not without blood.
She didn't know what she expected anymore.
She only knew what she missed.
Not the man she married.
But the one who had started to become something more.
---
She returned to their chambers just past midnight.
The door was ajar.
Inside, the candles were lit.
Softly.
Warmly.
And the room had changed.
The maps were gone.
The weapons tucked away.
In their place—roses.
Hundreds of them.
White. Crimson. Gold.
Trailing from the doorway to the center of the room, where a single table stood, set for two.
Elara froze.
Then Kael stepped from the shadows.
No armor.
No sword.
Just Kael.
He held a single rose in his hand.
"I didn't know how to say it," he said. "So I thought I'd show you."
She stared at him.
At the room.
At the man who had once refused to even look at her.
"I thought you were gone," she whispered.
"I was," he said. "But I found my way back."
He stepped closer.
Held out the rose.
She took it.
Their fingers brushed.
And something in her chest cracked open.
"I've made mistakes," he said. "I've let the crown speak louder than my heart. I've let fear make choices I should've made with love."
She looked up at him. "And now?"
"Now I choose you," he said. "Not because I have to. Not because they told me to. But because I want to."
He reached into his coat.
Pulled out a small, worn book.
Her journal.
The one she kept in this world.
The one she thought she had hidden well—where she wrote only about her experiences here.
"I found this in the vault," he said. "I read it."
Her breath caught.
"You wrote about me," he said. "Even when I didn't deserve it."
"You weren't supposed to see that."
"I know," he said. "But I'm glad I did."
He opened the book.
Read aloud:
> 'He doesn't see me. But I see him. And maybe that's enough. For now.'
He looked at her.
"I see you now, Lyria."
She stepped forward.
Tears in her eyes.
She didn't speak.
She just looked at him.
He took her hand.
Led her to the table.
Pulled out her chair.
Sat across from her.
They didn't eat.
They didn't speak.
They just looked at each other.
And for the first time in weeks, they smiled.
---
Later, he walked her to the balcony.
The stars were bright.
The city below was quiet.
Kael took her hand.
Pressed something into her palm.
A ring.
Not the one from their wedding.
A new one.
Simple.
Silver.
Etched with the Thorne crest—and a single word inside: Chosen.
"I had it made," he said. "Not as a symbol of duty. But of choice."
She looked at him.
"I don't need a crown," he said. "I need you."
She didn't speak.
She just kissed him.
Not because she had to.
But because she wanted to.
---
That night, they lay in bed, facing each other.
No walls.
No war.
Just breath.
Just warmth.
Kael brushed a strand of hair from her face.
"I'm sorry," he said.
"I know," she whispered. "So am I."
He pulled her closer.
And for the first time, they slept.
Together.
At peace.
---He did not sleep for long. A deep, waking awareness pulled him from the edges of his dreams. Elara was still in his arms, her body a soft, warm weight against his. The scent of roses from the main chamber had drifted into the bedroom, mingling with her own unique scent of night-blooming jasmine and sleep-warmed skin.
In the dim light of a single candle, he watched her. The flutter of a pulse at the base of her throat. The part of her lips with each soft, even breath. His gaze traced the line of her shoulder, the dip of her waist beneath the silk sheet.
A need, quiet but immense, began to uncoil within him. It wasn't the sharp, demanding lust of before, born of duty and frustration. This was slower. Deeper. A current of pure, undiluted want that had his heart beating a heavy, steady rhythm against his ribs.
He bent his head and pressed his lips to the pulse point on her throat. Just a taste. Her skin was impossibly soft. Salty-sweet. She stirred, a small, sleepy sound escaping her.
He did it again, a little lower, his lips grazing her collarbone. Her breathing hitched. Her eyes, heavy-lidded with sleep, fluttered open. She didn't speak. She just watched him, her gaze dark and deep.
"Kael?" Her voice was a husky whisper, thick with sleep and something else—hope.
"I'm here," he murmured against her skin. "I'm right here."
He shifted, rolling slightly so he could lean over her, caging her in with his arms. He lowered his mouth to hers, but this time the kiss was different. It wasn't the chaste, hopeful kiss from the balcony. It was a question. A promise. A slow, deep exploration that made her arch up into him with a soft, broken sigh.
His tongue touched hers, and a jolt of pure heat shot straight through him. He felt her hands come up, not to push him away, but to frame his face, her thumbs stroking the rough stubble on his jaw as she kissed him back with a fervor that stole his breath.
He broke the kiss, both of them breathing raggedly. He looked down at her, at the desire darkening her eyes, and felt a surge of possessiveness so fierce it was almost painful. "I need to feel you," he rasped, his voice rough with emotion. "All of you."
She simply nodded, her trust in that moment a gift that humbled him.
He hooked a finger in the strap of her silk chemise and slowly, so slowly, drew it down her shoulder. He followed the path of the falling silk with his mouth, kissing the newly exposed skin. First one shoulder, then the other. He pressed open-mouthed kisses along her décolletage, the heat of his breath making her shiver. He could feel the frantic beat of her heart beneath his lips.
He tugged the chemise lower, down to her waist, then lower still, until he could draw it completely off her legs and toss it to the floor. She lay bare before him in the candlelight, her skin glowing, her breasts rising and falling with her quickened breaths. He just stared for a long moment, drinking her in. Mine. My choice. My wife.
"You are so beautiful," he breathed, the words torn from somewhere deep inside him.
He lowered his head and took one pebbled, taut nipple into his mouth.
Elara cried out, her back bowing off the bed. Her fingers tangled in his hair, not guiding, just holding on as he laved her with his tongue, sucking gently, then with more pressure, learning what made her gasp and what made her moan. He shifted to her other breast, giving it the same devoted attention, his hand coming up to cup and knead the soft weight of the first. The sensations were overwhelming—the silk of her skin, the taste of her, the little desperate sounds she made in the back of her throat.
His own need was a tight, aching throb, but he ignored it. This was for her. All for her.
His kisses became a trail of fire down her body. Over the quivering plane of her stomach, the delicate curve of her hip. He nuzzled the inside of her thigh, inhaling her intimate, musky scent. She was writhing now, a soft, continuous moan escaping her lips.
"Kael… please…"
He looked up her body, meeting her desperate, pleading gaze. "Tell me what you want," he murmured, his voice a low growl.
"You. I want you."
"Where?" he prompted, needing to hear her say it, needing her to claim her own pleasure.
A blush stained her cheeks, but she held his gaze. "Everywhere. There. Please."
It was all the permission he needed. He hooked her legs over his shoulders and lowered his mouth to her core.
The first touch of his tongue to her wet, heated flesh made her cry out, her whole body jolting. He held her hips firmly, keeping her in place as he tasted her, licking a long, slow stripe through her slick folds. He found the sensitive nub at the apex of her sex and focused there, circling it with the tip of his tongue, flicking it, sucking it gently.
Elara unraveling beneath him. Her moans grew louder, less coherent. Her thighs trembled against his ears. Her hands scrabbled at the sheets, then found his hair again, holding him to her. He could feel the tension coiling tight within her, a spring about to snap.
He pushed a finger inside her, then another, crooking them to find that spot deep within that made her scream his name. He worked her with his mouth and his fingers in a relentless rhythm, feeling her inner walls begin to clench and flutter around his fingers.
"I'm… I can't… Kael, I'm going to—"
Her words cut off in a sharp, ragged cry as her climax crashed over her. Her body seized, back arching spectacularly off the bed as she shuddered and convulsed around his fingers, her release washing over his tongue. He gentled his mouth, drawing out every last tremor until she collapsed back onto the bed, boneless and gasping.
He moved up her body, kissing his way back to her mouth. She tasted herself on his lips and kissed him back with a newfound, desperate hunger. She could feel the hard, thick length of him pressing against her thigh, and she reached between them, wrapping her hand around him.
He groaned, his head falling back at the contact. Her touch was hesitant at first, then more confident, stroking him from root to tip, her thumb smearing the bead of moisture at his head.
"I need you inside me," she panted against his neck. "Now."
He needed no further urging. He positioned himself at her entrance, the head of his cock nudging against her wet heat. He looked into her eyes, seeing only desire and a fierce love staring back at him.
He pushed inside.