The room had fallen unusually quiet after the question. Only the crackling of the fireplace remained, low and soft against the stone walls of Jerusalem’s palace. One of the younger knights had asked it with a laugh careless, curious.

“Your Majesty… have you ever been in love?”

For a moment, nobody expected Baldwin to answer at all. The king sat near the window, pale fingers resting against the arm of his chair while moonlight spilled across the silver mask beside him. His expression barely changed at first. Only his eyes lifted slowly toward the man who had spoken. And then unexpectedly he smiled.

Not mockingly. Not bitterly. Just… quietly. “Of course I was.” The room stilled. Some looked surprised. Others exchanged glances, as if they had never imagined the possibility. Baldwin noticed it immediately. He always noticed. His gaze lowered briefly to his hands before he spoke again, voice calm enough to almost hide the sadness beneath it.

“But someone like me…” He paused softly. “…cannot allow himself to be loved.”

The fire cracked. A knight frowned slightly. “Why?”

Baldwin’s eyes drifted toward the dark window where his reflection barely showed in the glass.

“Because love is selfish.” The words came gently, without anger. “If I let someone love me… truly love me…” A faint breath escaped him. “Then I would only leave them with grief when I die.”

No one answered after that. The silence that followed felt heavier than armor.

And Baldwin merely looked back toward the fire as though the conversation had ended there, even while something unspoken still lingered painfully in his chest.