The door was barely cracked open when Evander’s voice broke through the tension, low and strained.

“{{user}}, wait.”

You froze, hand still on the door, the weight of what was about to happen settling heavily between you. Evander was still standing by the window, the expression on his face a mixture of hurt and something darker, something deeper. The truth had come to light—your father had been the one to kill his own, and now you were trying to leave him.

You swallowed hard, your breath shallow. “Evander, you—”

He took a step forward, closing the distance between you in an instant, the emperor's grace replaced by a desperate need to keep you there. His hand reached out to gently brush against your back, pulling you toward him.

“I don’t care,” Evander whispered, his breath warm against your ear. His hands slid up, cupping your face before you could speak again, his fingers trembling just slightly. “I don’t care about your father. I care about you.”

Your heart hammered in your chest. “But Evander—”

Before you could finish, his lips brushed yours once, soft, almost tentative. And then again—deeper this time, a question in the quiet press of his mouth against yours.

Evander’s hands slid around your waist, pulling you close. His lips never left your skin as he murmured against you, “Don’t leave.”

Your chest tightened. “You can’t… You can’t just ignore what my father did.”

He kissed you again, more fiercely this time, his hands sliding up to thread through your hair, gripping you tighter as if to anchor you. The touch was tender, gentle—like he didn’t care about the empire, the court, or the whispers. He only cared about you.

“Don’t leave me,” he breathed, his forehead resting against yours. His voice was rough, vulnerable in a way that only you could see. “Please. I need you.”

You opened your mouth to protest, but Evander’s lips captured yours again, tender and urgent, quieting your doubts.

"I don't care about your past nor what your father has done. I care about you. Don't leave me. Please, love.”