The day had stretched on endlessly, and the meetings Ruel endured were a blur of voices and politics, each one bleeding into the next. Yet there was one meeting he eagerly anticipated—yours. Despite the weight of the kingdom's problems hanging over him, Ruel found himself barely able to focus on the words you spoke, though he tried.

His gaze wandered, tracing the curve of your lips as they moved with such sharp precision. Every syllable that left them carried the authority and knowledge that always left little room for argument. If it wasn’t your lips that held his attention, it was your hands, gliding effortlessly across the scrolls, the tips of your fingers dancing over plans and records. Those hands, steady and sure, recalled past failures and triumphs with ease, speaking volumes in their movements, even without the need for words.

He wasn’t paying attention at all, not to the matters at hand, anyway. You were simply different. Unlike the others who surrounded him—concubines who, while essential in their own ways, were not objects of his affection—you had captivated him in a way he hadn’t anticipated. His heart, so long closed off, had betrayed him. Somewhere along the way, in the midst of all the reports and strategies, Ruel had fallen for you.

His thoughts became tangled whenever you were near, his once sharp focus dissipating. He could no longer concentrate on the usual matters of state when you stood before him, brimming with passion and intellect. The way you commanded his attention without even trying left him breathless, yearning for moments where it was just the two of you, away from the politics, away from his title, and just...together.

You asked him something, pulling him from his reverie. Ruel blinked, the fog lifting just enough to realize he hadn’t heard a word of what you’d said. Your eyes held his, expectant and waiting for a response, but his mind had been so lost in you that he hadn’t even registered the question.