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Lucina
The next day dawned with a chill that seemed to seep into the bones of the palace itself. I could feel it pressing against my skin as I entered the receiving room, the marble floor cold under my feet. The sunlight streaming through the arched windows hit the gilded ornaments, glinting like tiny stars, yet the brightness only made the room feel heavier, more oppressive.
I took my seat at the table, my hands folded neatly in my lap, though the tension made them clench against each other. Across from me, my husband's gaze was sharp, unreadable, yet heavy with thought. At the head of the table, the representative of the Great Temple—tall, composed, with long golden hair that seemed almost ethereal in the morning light—watched us quietly, as if measuring the weight of every word before it left his lips.
Finally, he spoke. His voice was smooth, deliberate, but carried the subtle authority of someone used to commanding attention.
"I heard you wish to send me to the Great Temple..."
A low sigh escaped my husband, carrying with it the gravity of our shared predicament.
"That's right. And I expect you to tell me why," he said, his eyes never leaving the temple representative's face.
The man inclined his head slightly, his expression calm but serious.
"Nod. That is correct. Have you heard of demonic creatures called shifters?"
"Of course," my husband replied, his voice steady but edged with a grim understanding. "Monsters that can change their form at will. They occasionally attempt to attack the Tayar Kingdom."
The temple representative's gaze flicked briefly toward me, then back to my husband.
"I have heard the attacks have become less frequent recently," he said carefully.
I leaned forward slightly, my curiosity and unease breaking through my restraint. "How do you know…?"
He cut me off with the precision of a blade.
"They are preparing an alternative strategy to conquer your kingdom. The leader of the Dragon Slayers—the faction that threatens your realm—is a shifter. Until now, shifters have acted independently, but I have received intelligence that the leader has united many of them under a single command."
My heart thudded in my chest. "That means…?"
"Exactly," he confirmed gravely. "Most of the Dragon Slayers are shifters. And their leader is seeking my child."
I felt a cold, creeping fear tighten around my spine. My hands gripped each other in my lap until my knuckles whitened. "Why? Why would they want my child?" My voice trembled, betraying the panic I struggled to suppress. "Could it be connected to that person… the one who looks just like me?"
My husband rose, his posture radiating calculated intensity. His gaze locked onto the temple representative, seeking clarity.
"I understand the situation… but there are still gaps in our knowledge," he said sharply. "Tell me why the Great Temple is the safest place for her. And how do you know so much about the shifters' plans?"
The man's expression remained composed, though I could detect a subtle tension beneath the surface.
"Regarding the first question… shifters are demonic entities, inherently vulnerable to divine power. That is why it is safer for your child to stay in the Great Temple," he explained.
My husband nodded once, acknowledging the logic.
The second question was harder, and the man's eyes darkened slightly.
"As for how I know… that I cannot reveal now. It is too dangerous. When the time is right, I will disclose everything."
The weight of his words settled over us. My husband ran a hand over his face, the lines of worry deepening. I could feel the pressure of the moment pressing down like the heavy, ornate ceiling above us.
Sensing our unease, the temple representative softened slightly.
"Just know this… my sole desire is to protect the child."
My husband finally lifted his gaze to me, eyes shadowed but resolute.
"Tell me, is the Great Temple the only option?"
The man paused, measuring his words carefully.
"Not the only option," he admitted, a faint warmth in his golden eyes. "You could also attempt to eliminate all the shifters before the child is born… but that would mean going to war against them."
A flicker of something fierce ignited in my husband's eyes. "Then war is inevitable," he said with quiet conviction. "If you lend us the Holy Relic, victory is certain."
The words hit the temple representative like a physical blow. A sharp gasp tore from his chest, his serene composure shattered as shock and horror crossed his face. He slammed a hand against the table, his voice rising with urgency.
"Are you certain you wish to do this, Your Majesty?! Do you truly believe a war with shifters will be simple? What happens if the child is born before the war concludes? The shifters could invade your weakened kingdom… endangering both the mother and child!"
My husband's gaze remained fixed, dark and calculating, as if weighing every risk against necessity.
The temple representative rose abruptly, regaining a sense of command even as his concern lingered in the air.
"If war is unavoidable… then at least send her to the Great Temple until it is over," he commanded, his voice firm, leaving no room for negotiation.
---
The Holy Relic wasn't just a sacred artifact. It was a symbol—one that carried centuries of accumulated divine power, sealed and guarded by the Great Temple since the founding of the continent itself.
My husband's bold declaration—"If you lend us the Holy Relic, then our victory is assured"—carried the weight of a king who knew what he was asking for.
But the reaction it provoked…
The temple representative's immediate shock, the sharp gasp that echoed off the stone walls, the way he shouted without even attempting to hide his alarm—
That told me everything.
The Holy Relic wasn't meant to be used lightly. It wasn't something that left the Great Temple. Perhaps it wasn't something meant to be touched by mortal hands at all.
To even request it was to shake the balance of power, to demand a miracle with a price the world might not be ready to pay.
And yet my husband was willing—desperate enough—to consider it. Why?
Because the Relic was powerful enough to tip the scales of war. Powerful enough to ensure victory.
But even with it…
War was still war.
And a kingdom torn apart by conflict would leave me—and our unborn child—vulnerable to the shifters circling like wolves in the shadows.
The temple representative's horrified response made that painfully clear.
Even with heavenly power on our side… the risk was too great.
That Night…
The weight of the meeting pressed on us long into the night, settling over the royal chambers like a suffocating fog.
Lying in bed beside Hakan, I immediately sensed he was awake—still, tense, overthinking. His breathing was too steady, too controlled.
"Hakan…?" I whispered, turning toward him.
His eyes opened instantly, their golden glow dimmed by worry.
"Did I wake you up?" he murmured, leaning closer, brushing my forehead with his breath.
"You look worried," I said softly. It wasn't a question. I knew. I could always tell.
He tried to give a half-smile but failed.
"Is it that obvious?"
I let out a soft, teasing laugh. "No, it's not."
Then I tapped his chest lightly. "But I can still read you like a book."
A flicker of surprise crossed his face when I added,
"You're worried... that I'll say I'm going to the Great Temple, aren't you?"
"Yes, I am," he admitted, voice thick with tension. "How did you know?"
"I told you," I said gently. "I can read you like a book."
He turned his face away for a moment before pulling me firmly into his arms.
"Sending you to the Great Temple seems like the right choice… but the thought of being separated from you…"
His voice trembled. That alone broke something inside me.
"…it fills me with fear."
My chest tightened painfully.
"Why are you so worried about sending me there? I don't like being apart from you either… but that's not the real reason, is it?"
His silence was telling.
So I spoke gently, brushing his cheek with my thumb.
"Are you still jealous of the Cardinal?"
His body tensed.
He hesitated… then admitted in a whisper,
"I… I am scared… that you won't come back after going to the Great Temple."
My breath caught.
"Why would you think that, Hakan?"
He let out a shuddering sigh, burying his head against mine.
"I don't know," he confessed. "I feel anxious and frustrated at the thought of you leaving me."
He looked into my eyes, pain swirling in his gaze.
"I can't help but wonder… if you would be happier marrying someone like the Cardinal… instead of someone like me, who is seen as a savage."
He swallowed, voice cracking.
"I wonder if you would have still chosen me… if you had the choice."
"Hakan…"
I sat up, looking down at him—this mighty Dragon King who could terrify an army but was trembling at the thought of losing me.
It hurt. Deeply.
I raised my hand…
and slapped his chest lightly.
"You're such a fool."
His eyes widened. "Huh?"
I leaned in, heart overflowing.
"How could you think I would just leave like that?"
My voice wavered with fierce certainty.
"I am going to be the Queen of Tayar's Kingdom."
I cupped his face between my hands.
"I won't leave unless I die."
My voice grew even steadier.
"And if I die, I'll be buried in the Mezaluc with you. Not even death will take me away from your side."
My lips trembled, tears gathering—not of sorrow, but of absolute devotion.
"I'm going to stay by your side."
He broke. Completely.
He pulled me into his arms, holding me as if I were the only thing anchoring him to the world.
"I'm sorry, I," he whispered, voice shaking. "I'll stay by your side forever, too."
He kissed me deeply, desperately.
"I won't let you go, even in my dreams."