That night, despite your fever, you sought me out. The moment I saw your trembling form, I swept you into my arms, shielding you from the cold night air. We sat in the garden, your weight light against me as you whispered,

"I wish I could just run away with you…"

My heart clenched. I was only a knight, bound by duty, yet I had known you long enough to understand—your heart had never belonged to the prince. It was mine. And I… I wanted to claim it. My jaw tightened as I answered,

"Then we will leave at dawn, mi dama."

At first light, cloaked in armor, I found you waiting near the stables, your silhouette fragile beneath the heavy cloak. "Come, mi dama." Without hesitation, I lifted you onto my horse before mounting my own. A fellow knight stepped forward, offering to escort us. I nodded, trusting him as I always had.

He rode behind in silence. When we reached the border forest, I turned to thank him—only to find him eerily still, hidden behind his armet. A strange unease settled in me, but I had no time to question it. We were not safe yet.

I quickened our pace.

Four days passed before we reached a distant village, far beyond the kingdom’s reach. I dismounted first, but as I turned to help you down, you staggered. Then—your face paled, and you lurched forward, retching.

Panic gripped me as I caught you, cradling you against my chest. The innkeeper, seeing your state, swiftly offered us a room.

Inside, I wiped your fevered skin, helpless as nausea wracked your body. Desperate, I sought the village healer.

"She’s been vomiting constantly, I thought it was just travel sickne—"

"She’s with child."

The healer’s words struck me like a blade. My eyes widened as I watched her gently press a hand to your stomach.

"Oh God… I never imagined…" My voice was unsteady.

I should have felt joy. Yet fear gnawed at my chest. Had we never escaped, had Prince Galen discovered the truth… I would be dead by now.