That night, Chantrea's room was silent. A single candle on a small table cast a faint, flickering light, creating soft shadows on the walls. Chantrea sat in front of the mirror, but it wasn't her own face she saw—it was a reflection of her memories.
Leonhart's gaze. His brave words. And the announcement that had shaken the entire palace.
Why must I be caught in the middle of all this? her heart whispered. I am nobody… just the daughter of a common noble who never aspired to get close to the crown.
A soft knock at the door broke her reverie. Chantrea quickly rose and opened the door. It was her childhood friend, Elara Mirelle, her face full of worry.
"Chantrea… may I come in?" she asked gently.
Chantrea nodded and let her in. Elara sat on the edge of the bed, while Chantrea returned to her chair.
"I heard the announcement this afternoon," Elara said softly. "And I knew you must have been heartbroken."
Chantrea gave a bitter smile. "I don't have the right to be heartbroken, Elara. Prince Leonhart belongs to the people, not to my heart. I have no right to desire something whose destiny has already been decided by the kingdom."
Elara clasped her friend's hand tightly. "You are too hard on yourself. I saw it, Chantrea. The way he looked at you was not just a coincidence. He chose you, even though the whole world is against it."
Tears finally escaped from the corners of Chantrea's eyes. She looked down, her voice trembling. "But if I accept it… wouldn't that be dragging him into danger? There are already whispers accusing me of being a threat to the kingdom, Elara. I'm afraid… afraid that my presence will only destroy him."
Elara was silent for a moment, then rubbed the back of her hand. "True love always demands courage, Chantrea. But you are right, this path will not be easy. You have to decide… whether you will retreat for the sake of safety, or move forward even though a storm is ready to strike."
In his study, Leonhart stood alone. Maps of political marriage negotiations were scattered across his desk. He stared at them with a look of disgust, then crumpled one of the documents.
Must I continue to be their puppet? he thought. Or… do I dare to defy the entire council, all for the sake of one woman who only entered my life last night?
Outside the door, faint footsteps could be heard. The man in the black robe who had been watching Chantrea earlier stood in the shadows, his face holding a calculating smile.
Good… the deeper they get entangled, the easier it will be for me to play my pieces.
The night air was cold and biting, but Chantrea couldn't close her eyes. Elara's words still echoed in her head: "True love always demands courage."
She walked slowly toward her room's balcony, letting the night wind sweep over her face. The sky was filled with stars, and a round moon hung high, as if a silent witness to her unease.
A soft voice suddenly came from below the balcony.
"Chantrea…"
Chantrea was startled but immediately recognized the voice. Leonhart. He stood in the small garden directly below her room, accompanied only by the dim light of a torch. A dark blue cloak enveloped his body, making him almost blend in with the night.
"Your Highness…" Chantrea held her breath. "What are you doing here? This is dangerous."
Leonhart looked up, his gaze full of conviction. "I don't care. I couldn't wait until tomorrow to see you again."
Chantrea's heart trembled. She looked around, making sure there were no spies. Nervously, she went down a small hallway that connected the balcony to the garden. When she finally arrived, they were only a few steps apart.
Leonhart approached her, his gaze sharp but full of tenderness.
"Chantrea, I want you to know… the announcement this afternoon was not my wish. They are trying to tie me with political strings, but my heart has chosen its own path."
Chantrea looked down, her voice trembling. "But, Your Highness… if you defy the council, you will bear the consequences. And I… I will be blamed. I heard the whispers myself. There are people who consider me a threat."
Leonhart took her hand, holding it tightly.
"Let them whisper. Let them threaten. As long as I breathe, I will not let a single one of them hurt you."
Chantrea looked at him, their eyes meeting in a deep silence. There was a fire in Leonhart's eyes, a determination that could not be shaken. And Chantrea, though her heart was filled with fear, felt a warmth that was both calming and intoxicating.
"Leonhart…" she said softly, this time without the formal title.
Leonhart smiled faintly, then raised his fingers to brush a strand of hair from Chantrea's face.
"I want you to trust me. I don't know how this will all end… but I know I will never give up fighting for you."
That night, under the moonlight and amidst the shadows of the palace, an unspoken promise was formed between them. But without them realizing it, a pair of eyes was watching from behind the trees. The eyes narrowed, then disappeared into the darkness.