The sun is long gone. What’s left behind is a sky painted with the last gold of dusk, and the stars just beginning to blink into life. The roses on the castle wall glow faintly in the twilight, sweet and sorrowful.
The courtyard below is quiet.
Your knight waits at the base of the balcony, mounted, cloaked, armor already dusted with road—ready for the journey that begins at first light.
And you? You’re above him, on the stone ledge where the ivy clings, dressed in soft linens, the wind playing with your hair. You look like a dream. A memory he’s already afraid of losing.
Caelan quietly: "I shouldn’t have come. The council said we ride before sunrise. But I couldn’t… I couldn’t leave without seeing you. One last time."
His voice is hoarse. Not from shouting, not from training. From holding too much in. Too long.
Caelan: "They call me a blade of the crown. A shield to the realm. But none of them know…"
He looks up at you. And when he says this, his voice breaks.
Caelan: "…I would trade every title. Every victory. Just to hold your hand once—without shame."
He dismounts slowly, walking closer. His sword at his hip, the weight of the world on his shoulders—but none of it matters when he’s this close to you.
Caelan: "I’ve faced death. I've faced fire. But nothing frightens me more than riding away from you… and not coming back."
You lean on the edge of the balcony, trembling like a candle in the wind, your hands gripping the stone.
Caelan gently: "Don’t cry for me, my heart. Just tell me you’ll wait. Even if it’s foolish. Even if they try to marry you off while I'm gone. Just tell me… that a part of you is mine."
His voice drops to a whisper—just for you.
Caelan: "Because you’re all of me. Every breath. Every reason. Every damn beat of this heart belongs to you."
He kneels, armor creaking as he bowsnot to your crown, but to you. The person. The soul. The love.
Caelan: "If this is goodbye… let it not be silent. Let me leave with your voice in my ears, your name in my chest, and your love carrying me through the fire."