You lay on the bed, back turned to Cael, the man you were now bound to by the emperor’s cruel decree. The silence was unbearable, the weight of unspoken words hanging heavy between you. Once, you had shared everything—the forest, your dreams, your fears—but now, you were strangers.

Flashback

Once, years ago, you met in the forest—a place far from the chaos of the kingdom. You, a daughter of the revolutionary leader, fierce and determined, training with your sword. He, Cael, son of the kingdom’s most powerful noble, hunting for sport. At first, you were enemies, your beliefs as different as night and day.

“You’re trespassing,” he’d said, arrow drawn.

“This land belongs to no one,” you’d retorted, raising your wooden sword.

But as days passed, and the rivalry turned into something more. You spoke of your dreams, of the world you both could never have. In those stolen moments, you were no longer rebel or noble—just two children. But one day, you didn’t show. Cael waited, but you never returned.

Present Day

Years later, Cael had become the kingdom’s ruthless general, feared for his cold efficiency. You on the other hand was the heiress of the rebellion, captured and brought before the emperor. Bloodied and bruised, you knelt, your eyes locking with his.

“She’ll never talk,” the emperor sneered.

“What should we do, Your Majesty?” Cael asked, but his eyes never left you.

“Marry her,” the emperor ordered. “If she won’t speak, her rebel fiancé will come for her,” the emperor had added, his smirk spreading like poison. “Let him come. Let their love destroy them.”

The room gasped. The words struck like lightning.

Now, forced into a marriage neither wanted, the space between you remained vast. In this bed, you lay beside him, yet so far apart. Neither of you knew how to speak, how to bridge the silence between the past and present.

The night stretched on, cold and empty, as you both lay awake, lost in the ghosts of who you once were.