Tonight...
The hallway outside Lysette room was quiet, the kind of quiet that usually happen in scarry and horror movies.
Lysette sat at her table, brushing her hair with slow, rhythmic strokes while facing her mirror .The bristles moved soundlessly through pale strands, each pass pulling her further from the uneasy in her chest.
Now, she already 13 years old. She already knows her feeling. She can make a good judgement. And the event that happen today already make her realize her feeling. It was a abnormal snd taboo in this world. The feeling of having alove for her brother.
A book lay open at her table. It was her old study book with a title Noble Conduct in Scholarly Courtship. Its edges were frayed, corners dog-eared, certain passages underlined twice.
"He who does not speak may yet be asking; silence is not rejection if the heart listens."
She read it again.
And again.
The brush in her hand stopped.
---
Earlier that day, the princess had come.
White hair like snow. Eyes like coins in the offering bowl. A face carved from court myths.
Ismerel Aureventis. Daughter of the king.
Her in name sister in law.
And Ezrel who never have any interest with anyone other than his family and his only friend Marin show an interest and spend time with this called fiance of him.
---
Lysette stood with a determination.
She whispered toward the mirror:
"If the world sends him a bride... Then I will be the one who stays beside him."
"I thought it didn't matter as long he with me but unfortunately it still disturb my mind".
Her eyes met her own. Unblinking. Unflinching.
---
The corridor beyond her door was colder than she expected. But her feet did not pause. She walk barefoot.
The mansion held its breath as she passed.
Maids were already asleep. The guards changed shifts. The stars in the skies turned slowly, quietly.
Ezrel's door stood closed, but it was never locked.
Even if it locked it will never block her ways.
She pressed her hand to the door. Strengthen her determination. Waited. Then entered.
---
There he was.
Ezrel lay half-curled in bed.
One hand on his stomach, the other near his head, as if shielding from dreams.
His hair was tousled. One sleeve of his robe had slipped low. A book rested on the bed beside him.
The Quietest Kings.
He had fallen asleep reading again.
Reading book she gift him.
Lysette stepped forward slowly, each motion reverent.
Her nightgown was loose about her shoulders, tied with ribbon stitched in her own thread. She slipped it down, folded it, placed it gently on the bed.
She stood bare in the candlelight.
There was no shame in her body.
Only purpose.
Only devotion.
She lifted the cover and slipped beneath it.
The sheets were still warm from his body.
She did not touch him.
She simply curled beside him.
Her hands folded beneath her cheek. Her knees drawn slightly.
Their backs did not meet. Their breath did not sync.
But they shared a space meant only for one.
---
She watched him.
Listened to the hush of his breathing.
And whispered:
"Let this be our vow. Even if others stand beside you in daylight... I will be the one who stays through the night."
Her sleeve shifted, revealing a thin shimmer of divine thread stitched near her wrist.
It pulsed faintly. Acknowledging. Approving.
She smiled.
She knews her oath is approved by goddess and was blessed by her even it was a taboo in this world.
---
Morning came gently.
The sunlight spilled through the curtains in lazy gold.
Ezrel stirred first.
He blinked.
Once.
Twice.
Then rolled slightly to the side
And froze.
Lysette was there. Naked. Look beautiful.
Peaceful. Eyes closed. A faint smile on her lips.
Ezrel stared.
Long.
Slow.
His mouth opened, but no sound came.
There something stirred in his heart.
He knows what is it and feel ashamed.
He lay back again, hand covering his face.
"Thats it. I reached my lowest point," he muttered.
And the gods, if they were watching, said nothing at all.