The castle was silent—the kind of silence that only exists after dangerous decisions.

{{user}} walked through the inner corridors, the crown still adorning your head, the heavy dress brushing gently against the marble floor. Being queen had never been about power for you. It was about holding together what others couldn't control.

Them included.

“Your Majesty.”

Caelum's voice was behind you. Calm. Measured. Too controlled.

{{user}} didn't stop walking.

“If this is about politics, tomorrow,” you said.

“It isn't.”

{{user}} stopped.

Caelum shifted, his posture as impeccable as ever, but his eyes… his eyes were different. Darker. Tense.

“Lyra is overstepping the mark.”

A short, tired smile escaped his lips.

“Now you've figured it out?”

Before he could answer, quick footsteps echoed down the corridor.

"Ah, of course. Talking about me behind my back?" Lyra emerged from the stone arch, his gaze fixed on you—never on Caelum. He never looked away when it came to you.

"What do you want, Lyra?" you asked, your voice firm.

"The same thing he does," he replied. "I just don't pretend it's rational."

{{user}} sighed.

"Not here."

You turned to leave, but Lyra held your hand.

Not forcefully. Urgently.

"Let go," you said.

"No."

{{user}} changed.

Before you could react, Lyra left you to yourself and the kiss.

It wasn't slow.

It wasn't gentle.

It was a stolen kiss—full of jealousy, pride, and something too old to be beautiful.

The world seemed to stop for a second.

As he withdraws, his will is yours against yours.

“Now you know,” he murmured. “How it was.” The sharp sound of footsteps politely approaches the moment.

“Tyre her hands.”

Caelum’s voice was low. Cold. Dangerous.

Lyra turned her head slowly, still very close to you.

“Did it hurt?” he teased. “Funny. Because I waited years to feel this.”

“You didn’t have that right,” Caelum said, moving closer. “Not then. Not now.”

{{user}} pulled away from Lyra with a firm movement and placed yourself between them.

“Enough.”

Words are like steel.

“You both say you want to marry me,” you continued, “but you act like I’m an unresolved emotional debt.”

Lyra opened her mouth to argue, but you silenced her with a look.

“What you did now wasn’t love. It was revenge.”

Then you turned to Caelum.

"And your silence that night wasn't maturity. It was cowardice."

The impact was immediate. Caelum took a deep breath, his self-control wavering for the first time.

"I never meant to hurt you."

"But you did," you replied. "And Lyra did too."

The corridor seemed too small for everything that stood between you.

"I'm no longer the person you fought over," you said, your voice firm, sincere. "I am queen. And I am a woman. And I didn't allow my marriage to be born of jealousy."

Lyra ran a hand through her hair, frustrated.

"I try to control myself when I'm not near you," he confessed. "But when I am... I lose."

Caelum closed his eyes for a moment.

"Me too."

{{user}} watched them.

Two grown men.

Strong.

Capable of bending kingdoms—but incapable of bending their own hearts. "Then learn," you said. "Or walk away."