Asher closed the chamber door behind him, exhaling a long breath.
He pressed a hand over his chest as he walked away, as though that might steady the ache spreading inside him.
It didn't.
Meanwhile, in Eldrida
Everard held a bouquet of crimson peonies and gold-veined irises, his lips curled in smug triumph. Courtiers flanked him, all too eager to nod along as he toasted to "the glorious future of Eldrida" believing, foolishly, that the union with Calonia was days away from making them untouchable.
And Prince Kael's letters artfully crafted lies dipped in honey only added fuel to his pride.
"May this alliance lead us to power unmatched," Everard declared, utterly unaware that the princess he had discarded like a failed pawn was already far out of his grasp.
Back in Vorga
The morning sun poured into the royal dining room, soft and warm, as Asher poured Stephania her tea with far too much focus. Her presence across the table made him forget the taste of his own food.
"You know," he said, setting the teapot down with a smile that tugged at the corner of his lips, "I've arranged a small banquet tonight. To celebrate the arrival of our queen."
Stephania looked up, a little surprised.
He leaned forward slightly, his gaze soft. "Everything's prepared. The dress, the jewels, the styling. You don't need to lift a finger. I just want to show my people someone they can look at and feel hope again."
She paused, fingers brushing the rim of her cup. "A banquet in this situation?"
He nodded. "For now. Things are still mending. The villages are healing, and I'd rather feed our people first than serve wine in golden goblets."
Stephania's lips curved into a faint smile, "I understand your priorities," she said gently. "Feeding the hungry is far more important than impressing nobles with silks and chandeliers. " She glanced at him with quiet grace. "Thank you for the courtesy. It means more than I can say."
"No thanks needed," he said softly. "You're the queen now. And I'll see to it that you're treated as one by everyone, starting with me."
Asher had chosen the gown himself.
A rich crimson hue, flowing like molten silk, laced with black velvet at the edges. It clung delicately to Stephania's frame, highlighting the subtle grace of her shoulders, the regal line of her neck, and the softness of her waist. Jewels, scattered like stars through her long silver hair, shimmered every time she moved. The look was minimal, but commanding.
When she emerged, Asher could do nothing but stare.
"You look " he breathed, then paused as if words had failed him. " beautiful."
Stephania's lips curved in amusement. "And you look dangerously tall."
She tilted her head, eyes trailing over his sharp collarbone beneath his tailored black coat, the cut of his jaw, and the way the candlelight kissed the gold in his eyes. He looked every inch a king tempting, untouchable, and entirely hers.
Their gazes lingered a moment too long.
Then Asher offered her his arm, and together they entered the banquet hall.
Gasps filled the air.
Every noble eye turned to the queen in red. Her poise, her quiet beauty, and her unshakable calm stirred admiration in the hearts of many. Whispers of awe fluttered like birds through the room.
"She's divine"
"She was born to rule"
Asher didn't wait. In front of everyone, he stepped forward and introduced her, voice ringing through the vaulted hall.
"This," he said, "is Queen Stephania of Vorga."
Then, without hesitation, he knelt before her and pressed a kiss to her gloved hand reminding the court, without words, how deeply he cherished her. A hush of reverence passed over the nobles. The queen, they now saw, was not only beloved she was worshipped.
Nobles from around Vorga started introducing themselves and keep complementing Stephania about how pretty she was.
Later, as music filled the room and goblets clinked in celebration, Asher led Stephania into a quiet waltz. They danced under the light of crystal chandeliers, the world around them fading into soft shadows and murmurs.
But halfway through their steps, Stephania's eyes widened.
She felt it a sudden looseness at her shoulder. A strap had torn?
She instinctively reached to hold her dress, trying to maintain composure, but panic shimmered in her eyes. Asher immediately noticed her distress.
In one fluid move, he brought their dance to a graceful stop and turned to the crowd.
"Forgive us," he announced, his voice smooth, amused. "We've barely had a moment as husband and wife. My Queen is not feeling so well so we must take our leave."
Before anyone could respond, Asher swept Stephania into his arms.
Laughter and applause followed.
"A king in love," someone whispered.
"He can't even wait for the night to end," another chuckled.
Asher held her close, hiding her tension from the world, and carried her straight past the hall, through the empty corridors, and into the quiet sanctuary of his own chamber.
Only then did he lower her gently onto the floor.
"Steph" he began.
But the dress slipped.
The delicate fabric, barely clinging, fell in a whisper at her feet.
Stephania stood frozen naked, vulnerable, and wide-eyed. She didn't speak. couldn't. Her hands flew to cover herself, her cheeks flushing with humiliation. But what gave her away were the silent tears slipping down her cheeks.
Asher didn't move.
He didn't let his eyes wander not for even a second. His gaze stayed locked on her eyes, steady and gentle, a silent promise that he saw her not her nakedness, but her.
But Stephania, overwhelmed, turned her back to him.
She pressed her arms tightly to her chest, trying to catch her breath trying to piece together the shattering sense of vulnerability she felt. The sharp chill of the room bit at her skin, but nothing compared to the hollow ache of being seen too closely.
Then, Asher froze.
His breath hitched.
The soft candlelight revealed the truth etched into her skin.
Faint but cruel, long-healed scars traced her back marks of old lashes, silvery lines that disappeared under the curve of her waist and down the backs of her legs. They weren't recent, but they were deep. Untreated. Unforgotten.
His stomach clenched.
He could barely process what he was seeing.