"Can we come in?" asked Darius's eldest son as he looked at Cynthia. He stood beside his younger brother, both boys lingering at the doorway of her room. Cynthia had been gently lulling the baby to sleep when they appeared.
Earlier, after their talk with the queen, Darius had escorted Cynthia and their child back to their chambers so they could rest. He'd promised to speak to her mother again and seek her approval before his coronation.
When Cynthia heard the boy's voice, she turned quickly, startled to see them there. She hadn't expected them to visit—perhaps even to ignore her and the child.
"Of course, come in," she said softly, reaching out a hand to them in welcome.
The boys exchanged a quick smile, then entered happily and walked toward the bed where the baby lay sleeping.
"I'm Alaric," the older boy said as they approached. "This is my younger brother, Rowan."
"I'm Cynthia," she replied with a gentle smile. "And this is my daughter, Eden."
"She's so tiny," Rowan murmured, staring at the baby in awe.
"She is," Cynthia said, laughing quietly. She lifted the baby into her arms so they could see her more closely.
"Oh—she's awake!" Rowan exclaimed as Eden opened her eyes. Cynthia hid a small smile at the boys' surprise.
Both reached out tentative hands toward the baby. To Cynthia's delight, Eden reached back, her tiny fingers curling around her brothers' hands. The boys laughed in amazement, their faces softening with affection.
Just then, Darius entered the room. He paused at the doorway, smiling at the sight of his sons gently cradling the baby's hands.
"So, you've met your little sister," he said warmly as he approached.
"Dad!" Alaric and Rowan cried in unison, their faces lighting up.
"I didn't expect to find you here," Darius said with a chuckle, "but I'm glad you've met her. It seems she already likes you both." He nodded toward their hands, which Eden was still clutching.
"Will they stay here with us?" Alaric asked, looking up at his father.
"Yes, that's the plan," Darius replied. He rested a gentle hand on his eldest son's head. "And as her big brother, I'm counting on you to help me protect her."
Darius knew he couldn't yet explain everything to Alaric and Rowan—they were too young to understand the full story. But he also knew that one day, he would have to. For now, all he wanted was for his sons and Cynthia's child to share a happy childhood—and to grow up accepting one another as family.
Cynthia and her child remained in Darius's palace while he continued his efforts to convince his mother to accept them. Days turned into weeks, and the day of Darius's coronation as the new king of the realm drew near.
At first, life in the palace had seemed like a dream — quiet rooms, gentle servants, and a cradle carved just for her daughter. But as time passed, Cynthia's heart grew heavier. Each day she saw Darius surrounded by his court, living the life of a ruler, and each day she felt the distance between their worlds widen. The grandeur that once amazed her now only reminded her of how out of place she was.
She wanted only one thing — for her daughter to live a normal life, far from the intrigues and cruelties of the court. But she knew that was impossible. A king's child could never live an ordinary life, and she feared the world would not be kind to her little girl.
"Here you are," Darius said cheerfully as he entered the nursery. This was the room he had designed himself for their daughter — soft silks, carved wood, and sunlight spilling through tall windows. He smiled when he saw Alaric and Rowan leaning over the crib, playing gently with their baby sister.
Then he noticed Cynthia standing by the balcony doors, staring out into the distance.
"I knew I'd find you here," he said warmly. "You like spending time with her, don't you?" He patted his sons on their heads before walking toward Cynthia.
She didn't turn to him. The golden light outside framed her in silence, and he sensed at once that something was wrong.
"Why are you here alone?" he asked softly, slipping an arm around her waist and pressing a kiss to her cheek.
Startled, Cynthia turned to him and gently stepped away. She walked toward the balcony railing, her hands gripping it lightly.
Darius frowned. He could feel the distance in her movements. It had been nearly a month since they'd arrived, and he knew he had been consumed by his duties — endless councils, preparations, and the heavy expectations of the throne. He hadn't even found the time to speak again with his mother about Cynthia and their child. He regretted that, but it seemed there was always another matter to attend to.
"What's wrong?" he asked, following her to the balcony. "Are you angry with me? I know I haven't been able to visit these past few days, but you understand — the coronation is near, and there's so much to do."
Cynthia turned her gaze toward him but said nothing.
"Why are you looking at me like that?" he asked quietly. "Did I do something to upset you? Is something the matter?"
Still, she didn't answer. Darius reached out, gently cupping her face. "Hey, talk to me. Did I do something you didn't like? Is this room not enough—"
"No," Cynthia interrupted softly. "It's beautiful." She took his hand in hers, her voice trembling slightly. "And it's not about that."
Darius felt a chill of unease run through him.
"You know I love you," she said. "And our daughter. I never doubt that."
He frowned, his chest tightening. "Then what are you saying?"
"Darius," she began, her voice breaking a little. "I've thought about this over and over, and what I'm about to say… I believe it's what's best for all of us — for you, for me, and for our daughter."
His brow furrowed. "What are you talking about?"
She took a deep breath. "I've come to accept that your world and mine are too different. And even if we try—"
"No." His voice cut through hers, firm and almost desperate. "If you're going to tell me you want to leave, I won't allow it." He shook his head, eyes fierce with emotion. "I told you — I'll convince my mother. I'll make her understand."
Cynthia looked at him then, her eyes full of sorrow and love all at once — the look of someone who had already made a choice she wished she didn't have to make.
"You are the Crown Prince, and in a few days you'll be king," Cynthia said, her voice trembling though she tried to hold it steady. "Can you really afford to have a woman like me beside you? You're a royal — a ruler who must serve his people. You can't be selfish and just—"
"Selfish?" Darius repeated in disbelief, his brows drawing together. "Maybe I am. But is it wrong for me to think of my own happiness? Of the woman I love?"
"Of course not," Cynthia said softly. She reached for his hand and held it tightly, as though the touch might steady her heart. "But Darius, your country isn't ready for me. Or for our daughter. They'll never see her as a princess. To them, she'll always be a mistake — a bastard child, hated not only by the radicals and courtiers, but by your own mother, the queen."
Darius's jaw tightened, but Cynthia pressed on. "I don't want that for her. I want her to live a normal life, far away from judgment and cruelty. Life in the court isn't meant for us. I see that now. So what I'm saying is—"
"The answer is no," Darius interrupted sharply. He caught her hand again, his grip desperate, his eyes fierce with emotion. "I won't allow it. I can't live without you — without either of you." His voice cracked as he raised a hand to her face, his thumb brushing against her cheek.
"I know," she whispered. "And I understand. But we have to think about her future, Darius. You know how the court can be. She won't survive that life. And truthfully… neither will I. This isn't the life I dreamed of."
"Still," he said stubbornly, shaking his head, "I won't allow it."
"Darius—"
"This conversation is over," he said, his tone low but final. "I won't hear another word about it." He leaned forward, pressed a lingering kiss against her cheek, and stepped back. "I have duties to attend to."
Cynthia could only watch as he turned away, walking toward the children with his usual composed grace — though she could see the tension in his shoulders, the storm he refused to show.
"I'll leave you with them," Darius said quietly to her and the boys, then turned and left the room.
For a long moment, Cynthia stood in silence, staring after him. Her heart ached with love and sorrow — but beneath that ache was resolve. Even if Darius would never understand, her decision was made.
She and her daughter would leave the palace.
Before the crown could claim them both.