You found him alone in the strategy hall—everyone else had cleared out hours ago. The fire had burned low in the hearth, casting the room in gold and shadow. He was still at the table, fingers tracing the edge of a war map he wasn’t even looking at.

“You should sleep,” you said softly.

“I could say the same to you,” he replied without looking up.

You stepped closer. “You’ve been quiet lately.”

“I’ve always been quiet.”

You smiled faintly. “Not with me.”

That made him pause. His hand stilled. The room was silent, except for the soft whistle of wind curling at the edges of the high glass windows.

Then, finally, he spoke—low and level, like always. But not careless.

“…They want me to choose someone,” he said. “To marry. To solidify alliances.”

You blinked. His tone didn’t shift, but something in your chest did.

“Oh,” you said. “And… will you?”

He looked up at you then. His eyes calm, unreadable—but too direct to ignore.

“If I asked you,” he said, “what would you say?”

Your breath caught.

He didn’t move closer. Didn’t reach for you. Just waited.

“I’m not noble,” you said quietly. “Not a political asset.”

“I didn’t ask for that.”

A long silence passed.

Then:

“If I were just Yuno,” he said, voice steady, “would that be enough for you to say yes?”

And even though the crown was still on the table beside him— you realized he’d never worn it around you.