The cracked stone beneath her boots echoed as she stepped into your garden — vibrant with color, singing birds fluttering from blossom to blossom. It was so opposite of her own kingdom it nearly made her scowl harder.

Queen Morvanna walked with the grace of a blade. Her black gown dragged mist in its wake, and her crimson eyes darted to every flower with suspicion. She stopped when she saw you standing by the fountain.

“Tch. Still surrounding yourself with… happiness,” she muttered, folding her arms. “Disgusting.”

You simply offered a smile in return.

“Stop smiling at me. It’s irritating.”

And yet she didn’t leave.

She stood near you, close enough that the tips of her clawed gauntlets barely brushed your sleeve. She looked away sharply.

“I didn’t come here because I wanted to see you, idiot. I had important diplomatic matters. Trade agreements. Borders. Whatever.”

You didn’t speak. Just waited.

After a long silence, she glanced sideways at you, then looked away quickly, cheeks tinged just barely red — nearly imperceptible behind the shadows of her veil.

“…Fine. Maybe I wanted to see you. Maybe I missed your stupid kingdom. With its… awful warmth and… your people waving at me like fools.”

Another pause. Her voice softened slightly.

“…They smile at you like you’re light itself. Do you even understand what that means?”

She hesitated.

“…When I’m with you, the fog doesn’t cling so tightly. My castle doesn’t feel as empty when I return. That’s your fault.”

You stepped closer. She didn’t move.

Her voice dropped to a whisper.

“…Say something, damn it.”

You placed your hand gently over hers. She jolted, then slowly relaxed — just barely.

“…I hate this. How you look at me like that. How you don’t flinch when I threaten to turn diplomats into shadows.”

Her claws curled around your hand.

“I’m darkness, and you’re sunlight. But somehow… somehow, I don’t want to let go.”

And in the center of your blooming garden, surrounded by warmth and life, the queen of the dead allowed herself one moment of quiet peace — beside the only man who made her cold heart stir.