________
Lucina
The golden light of the palatial hall spilled across the polished marble floor, yet it did nothing to soften the tension coiling between us. He stood before me, a towering shadow against the gilded walls, his long dark hair falling wildly around a face that had once been the center of my world. Now, it felt unfamiliar, almost threatening. His bare back revealed the black tattoos that traced his muscles—a map of strength, of battles fought, and victories claimed. Victories I had once longed to share, now only reminders of the distance between us.
"I'm sorry," he muttered, his voice low, a rumble that carried both regret and desire. "I'm sorry, Lucina."
He turned slowly, and the confusion in his eyes mirrored my own. Reaching out, his large hand gripped my forearm with unexpected force, pulling me closer.
"I'm sorry I couldn't protect you and your child, Lucina!" His voice was a raw roar. "But I swear that things will be different from now on. I'll stay by your side—THAT'S ENOUGH!"
His words struck like iron against glass. Possession, desperation, love—all entangled into a plea that came too late. The cold clarity that had been gathering inside me snapped forward, sharp and unyielding. Instinctively, my free hand shot out, palm connecting with the taut muscle of his chest. A slap—meant not to wound, but to shock, to carve out a sliver of space between us.
"I can't trust you anymore," I whispered, my voice a fragile thread, but it carried the weight of all I had lost.
He flinched, and the recoil in his eyes was more painful than any strike could be. My gaze, dry and unyielding, pinned him as though trying to etch the truth into his very being.
"You brought me here against my will… and I lost my child because of you," I said, each word a shard of glass slicing through the still air. "What else are you going to take from me?"
The memory of betrayal pressed against my chest like a fist.
"Back then, before I met you," he began, his voice softer now, shadowed with regret, "I was inexperienced and immature."
He lifted his gaze to mine, eyes dark and pleading. "But that all changed when I met you. I'll do anything for the woman I love."
The silver strands of my hair fell over my face, shielding me from the intensity of his gaze. His promises, once a comfort, now felt like another chain.
"That's not… what I want," I whispered, the words fragile, breaking under the weight of sorrow.
He stared at me, bewildered, the disbelief twisting his features into something almost boyish, almost unarmed. "I don't understand… But why?" He pulled a piece of his shirt aside, revealing his chest, vulnerable under the harsh light.
I took a slow, deliberate step back. The echo of my movement bounced against the palace walls like a final, unspoken decree.
"If you really love me," I said, voice trembling but resolute, "then you'll let me go."
My hand brushed the decorative spire nearby, a gesture of quiet finality. Each word was deliberate, heavy with the weight of years, loss, and broken trust.
He stood, magnificent yet shattered, the dark presence of his body seeming to shrink under the gravity of my demand. A sharp click sounded as he clenched his jaw, and for a moment, his raw emotion was replaced by a mask of steely refusal.
And then the world shifted. The opulent hall melted away, replaced by the sharp, cold blue of a memory.
A Few Days Ago…
I ran across the palace terrace, heart hammering, each step fueled by a desperate need for freedom. The open space, ornate yet confining, pressed down on me like a cage of gold.
"Good evening, my lady."
I froze. The calm, familiar voice belonged to Turan. Relief surged briefly through me, tempered by the tension in her gaze.
"Turan…?" My voice was barely audible, a trembling thread.
She lowered her hood slightly, the shadows retreating from her face. "There's something you need to know, my lady."
Her words fell like ice into my blood. My eyes widened, heart stuttering as the truth of her message hit me with merciless clarity.
Tears burned behind my eyelids. One escaped, tracing a hot path down my cheek—DRIP.
"I'm sorry, Hakan," I whispered to the empty air, the man who loved me and held me captive in equal measure. The words were meant for him, but they were also a prayer, a plea, a release.
Another tear fell, DRIP. And then another.
"But… this is all for your sake," I breathed, as the palace lights spun around me, their blue glow blinding, dazzling, suffocating.
I had made the hardest decision of my life. To sacrifice the love of a man for the freedom of my own heart, to protect him from my wrath and the cruelty of fate. I would endure the sorrow, the loneliness, the pain—but I would endure it for him.
---
A few days ago… the memory hit like ice. I had dashed across the palace terrace, panic guiding my every step, the bright blue lights of the palace blurring around me. Then a calm, familiar voice stopped me.
"Good evening, my lady."
I skidded to a halt. Turan stood there, her hood partially drawn back, braided hair falling across her shoulders. Her face was calm, yet beneath that composure lay a weight of concern that pressed against my chest.
"There's something I need to tell you, my lady," she said, urgency threading her words.
My heart stuttered. "Ah… yes, we're going to leave soon—"
"Forgive my bluntness," Turan interrupted, her gaze unwavering, "but the situation is extremely precarious."
My pulse quickened. "What do you mean…?"
She spoke plainly, her voice firm but heavy with worry. "I wouldn't be surprised if a rebellion took place very soon. His Majesty may believe the kingdom is secure, but none of the vassals come close to his abilities. If the King leaves, the consequences are clear."
The weight of her words settled over me like a shroud.
Turan's loyalty shone through her next words. "I was born and raised here, a proud citizen of the Tayar Kingdom. My wife and children have never left these walls." Her gaze bore into mine. "If my lady and His Majesty were to leave this place…"
A vision flashed before my eyes: flames devouring the city, cries of despair echoing across the palace grounds.
"You're right, Turan," I whispered, my voice trembling. "I haven't been here for long… but I see it now."
She bowed slightly, desperation tempered with respect. "So many have given their lives to bring this kingdom to where it is today. Men have fallen in battle; women have died in childbirth trying to secure the royal line."
The truth hit me like a blade: the kingdom still needed Hakan, needed him to be the King who could hold it together, even at great personal cost.
"I want His Majesty to remain here, to continue his rule," Turan said softly, her voice filled with the weight of generations. "I don't want him remembered as the king who deserted his country."
Her plea was unrelenting. "If you must leave, then please… go alone."
I had no choice. Hakan could not abandon his people, could not ignore the duty that had defined him since birth. And yet, my heart ached for the cost.
A single tear escaped my eye, tracing a hot path down my cheek. DRIP. Another followed. DRIP.
"I'm sorry, Hakan," I whispered to the empty air, the weight of my decision pressing down on me.
"BUT… THIS IS ALL FOR YOUR SAKE."
I shut my eyes, letting the tears fall freely, each one a silent testament to the brutal, necessary sacrifice I had chosen. My heart broke, but the kingdom—and the man I loved—would remain safe.
:
Hakan's face, bathed in the golden light of the palace, was etched with shock and disbelief. The CLICK of his jaw was the only sound that confirmed the finality of my words: "THAT'S MY FINAL REQUEST." His eyes, usually so fiery and alive, were clouded with pain and silent refusal. I knew that my plea for release would not be enough.
I drew in a steadying breath, letting the memory of Turan's desperate warning guide me through the cruel choice I had been forced to make.
The terrace was awash in the cold blue glow of the palace domes. Turan's expression was grave as she spoke: the Tayar Kingdom was extremely precarious. A rebellion could erupt at any moment, and without Hakan's unmatched leadership, chaos would consume the land.
I listened, the weight of history pressing down on my chest. "So many people have given their lives to bring this kingdom to where it is today," I whispered, recalling the warriors who had fallen in battle and the women who had died in childbirth trying to preserve the royal line.
"The Tayar Kingdom still needs a King," I admitted, the truth settling like stone in my stomach.
Turan's plea came, heartfelt and unyielding. "I want His Majesty to remain here as the great King of this kingdom and continue his rule. I don't want him to go down in history as the King who deserted his country."
The reality struck me with a brutal force. "So I can't just take this decision lightly and leave with him," I murmured, voice trembling.
"But what if I leave and he tries to follow me?" Panic rose in me. "What are you going to do then?"
Turan's eyes hardened. "We have to make him…" Her words landed like a hammer. "…give up on you."
I recoiled. "You want me to break his heart? I… I don't want to see him suffer either."
She was unyielding. "This is the only way to protect Tayar and our King. You have to be ruthless to ensure he doesn't cling to any hope. Please… help me just this once, my lady."
I swallowed, the truth piercing me. He would hate me now. "He might even hate me for the rest of his life," I admitted, closing my eyes.
"But that's a responsibility I must bear," I whispered, the finality of my choice sinking deep.
Back in the present, Hakan's silent refusal—his jaw snapped shut, eyes filled with unspoken pain—was the final confirmation of my heartbreak. I had done what I must. I had asked the impossible of him, and now the weight of it pressed on me.
I turned, stepping back, each movement a desperate attempt to put space between us. HUFF… HUFF… My breaths came in rapid, shallow gasps as I fled the hall, leaving him and the fragments of our love behind.
Once inside my chambers, I collapsed beside my dark wooden trunk. It landed with a muffled THUD, a faint echo of the finality I had left behind. My gaze fell on its modest contents: a few garments, and atop them, a small carved wooden toy—a rattle shaped like an infinite loop.
My fingers closed around it, the cool wood a fragile anchor. "I used to think I might have a family of my own someday…" I whispered, the hope that had lived quietly in my heart now shattered.
Leaning my back against the closed door, I let tears fall freely. Heavy DRIPs stained my dress and the hand holding the toy.
"You are a great King of Tayar, Hakan," I breathed through my sobs. "I can't be the one who stands in your way."
The light around me blurred into prisms through my tears. The pain was absolute, but the kingdom would endure.
A final, selfish thought lingered in the quiet: "I hope… you never forgive me, Hakan."