I caught Sienna's scent the moment the breeze reached Bolivé.
It wrapped around me—warm, familiar, unmistakable—and before I even realized what I was doing, I abandoned everything and ran. Nothing else mattered. She was here. She chose my kingdom first, and that alone filled my chest with something dangerously close to hope.
When we finally found each other, it felt as though the world stilled just for us.
I didn't hesitate. I pulled her into my arms, holding her as if I might lose her again if I didn't. It hadn't been long, not really, but the ache of missing her had only deepened. Seeing her now made my heart swell until it hurt. At last, the half of my heart was home.
I never believed I would love again—not after Kowra, not after everything that followed. Yet here she was, rewriting destiny as if it had always been meant to bend for her.
I wanted to show her Bolivé—the open fields, the gentle streams, the quiet strength of my people. This land suited her. It mirrored her spirit: calm on the surface, endlessly powerful beneath. I hoped she would see what I had almost forgotten myself—that even after I left, my kingdom never truly turned its back on me. They welcomed me home, flaws and all.
There were problems, of course. There always are. But none that couldn't be mended.
Then I met her companion—a fox named Nori.
Protectiveness stirred in me immediately. Sienna carried the power of the Goddess of Abundance within her, and the idea of anyone getting close to her made my instincts bristle. Foxes are clever, slippery by nature. But Sienna trusted her, and that was enough for me. If Sienna believed in her, then so would I.
I had planned to walk them through the kingdom, to show them the preparations for the welcome feast. Instead, chaos found us first.
The rats had destroyed our stores.
Before I could even explain, Sienna followed me without question. She didn't ask what I needed. She simply acted. Watching her move through my kingdom as if it were her own—helping my people, offering comfort, restoring what was lost—made something tighten painfully in my chest.
She didn't waver when the sheep criticized me. She didn't doubt me when others did. She stood beside me.
And when our stores were mysteriously replenished—when abundance returned as if it had never been stolen—I understood. She had done it quietly, without asking for praise. What had I ever done to deserve her?
Seeing her laugh among my people, seeing how easily she belonged, sealed my resolve.
She was the one.
At last, we found a moment alone—or so I thought. Panic shattered the peace. The rats had returned.
This time, my anger burned hot. They would not steal another moment from my people—or from her.
I charged into battle, my troops following without hesitation. Rats swarmed endlessly, their numbers suffocating. I fought without pause, until I heard her scream.
Sienna.
She had followed me.
Fear tore through me sharper than any blade. I struck down every rat near her, expecting her to retreat—but she didn't. She stood with me. Fought with me.
And then she unleashed her power.
The air itself seemed to tremble as abundance turned wrathful. Fire followed—pure, devastating. Rats burned to ash, unable to escape her fury. When Rommel revealed himself, I nearly made the mistake of mercy—but she saved me again, driving away the shadow that lurked behind him.
I owed her my life.
But I saw it then—the cost.
Her power surged beyond control, tearing at her from the inside. When she fell, I caught her without thinking. She felt fragile in my arms, impossibly small for someone carrying such force. I held her and swore, silently and fiercely, that she would never bear this alone again.
I ordered the rats exiled far from Bolivé, beyond any land they could ruin. Then I took Sienna home.
When she stirred and reached for me, I answered without hesitation. I gave her everything she needed—comfort, warmth, presence. I willingly embraced her with my unwavering affection. Whatever strength I had, it was hers. Her scent, the way she holds and yearns for me, is anything but enchanting. My life is for her to rule. The bond between us steadied her, filled her unquenchable appetite for intimacy, and watching life return to her eyes felt like witnessing a miracle.
Even then, her thoughts turned outward—to others, to responsibilities beyond herself.
There truly is no one like her.
As she rested, I finally understood the truth I had been circling all along. Protecting her would never be a task for me alone. She would need all of us—every king willing to stand beside her. I could not claim her entirely, not now, maybe not ever.
But I could fight for her.
So when she spoke honestly to me, when she laid her fears bare, I already knew my answer.
I would stay.
No matter what it cost. No matter how long it took.
Our days together passed too quickly. I made sure she laughed. That she forgot her burdens, if only for a while. Every moment with her felt like borrowed heaven.
And when the time came for her to leave, I didn't try to stop her.
I simply reminded her of what she already knew—
That I believed in her.
That I trusted her.
And that no matter where her path led, she would always have me.