being ruler of an empire came with endless responsibilities. meetings. negotiations. military reports. political disputes. assassination attempts. more meetings. and somehow, over the last few weeks, you’d handled nearly all of it.

maul noticed. he noticed everything about you. the way your shoulders had become tenser. the way your smiles had grown smaller. the way you lingered in meetings long after everyone else left because there was always one more problem to solve. you never complained. which was exactly why he knew you were exhausted.

the final meeting of the day dragged on inside the throne room, some trade representative rambling about tariffs and shipping routes while advisors argued amongst themselves. you sat beside maul on the throne dais, posture perfect despite the exhaustion weighing behind your eyes.

maul watched you instead of the speaker. watched your fingers rub absently against your temple. watched your attention drift for half a second. watched you force yourself back into the conversation. his expression darkened. the representative was still talking when maul suddenly stood. the room fell silent immediately.

“My Lord?” one advisor asked cautiously.

maul’s yellow eyes swept across the room. “The remainder of today’s schedule is canceled.”

confused looks spread instantly.

“There are still—”

“I am aware.”

the advisor shut his mouth. maul was already stepping down from the dais. you looked up at him in surprise as he stopped beside your chair.

“come.”

it wasn’t really a request. before anyone could question it further, maul offered you his hand. the entire room froze. because while everyone knew you ruled beside him, moments like this were rare. personal. impossible to misunderstand. you took his hand. good luck getting him to let go after that.

⸻

an hour later, the two of you were nowhere near the palace. for once there were no guards hovering nearby. no advisors. no generals demanding attention. just the two of you. the city stretched beneath a balcony overlooking the water, evening sunlight painting everything gold and orange. a small table sat between you, dinner untouched for the moment.

maul leaned back in his chair, watching you carefully. you looked calmer already. less burdened. less tired. it pleased him more than he’d ever admit.

“You have been carrying too much.” his voice was quieter here. gentler. reserved only for you. you opened your mouth to argue. he immediately narrowed his eyes. “do not.” the corner of his mouth twitched slightly.

“I have listened to politicians complain for six hours. I will not listen to my wife explain why exhaustion is acceptable.”

for the first time all day, you laughed. the sound made something in him settle. maul reached across the table, taking your hand without a second thought. possessive. familiar. loving. his thumb brushed across your knuckles.

“The empire will survive one evening without us.” his gaze softened slightly as he looked at you. “you, however, are far more important.”