The morning after the proposal felt strangely ordinary.
The sky above the city was pale and quiet, the same soft gray that settled over rooftops before the markets fully opened and before the guild's halls filled with the clatter of armor and the voices of adventurers beginning another day of ambition and risk.
But for Nysera, nothing about the morning felt ordinary.
Because the words from the night before had not faded with sleep.
Marry me.
They lingered in her thoughts like a challenge she had not agreed to face.
She stood alone on the training balcony overlooking the inner courtyard of the guild, watching the early fighters below practice their forms with wooden blades while the first rays of sunlight slid across the stone walls.
Behind her, the door opened quietly.
Kelvin stepped out onto the balcony with his usual composed expression, carrying two cups of tea.
"You look like someone who spent the night arguing with her own thoughts," he said.
Nysera accepted the cup without looking at him.
"That sounds accurate."
Kelvin leaned against the railing beside her.
"Did he propose yet?"
Nysera blinked.
"You knew."
Kelvin smiled faintly.
"I suspected."
"How?"
Kelvin shrugged.
"The way he looked at you yesterday evening."
Nysera stared at him.
"That tells you someone is about to propose marriage?"
Kelvin sipped his tea calmly.
"No."
"What then?"
"That someone has already decided something reckless."
Nysera exhaled slowly.
"That sounds like him."
Kelvin glanced sideways.
"And you."
Nysera frowned.
"I did not propose marriage to anyone."
"No," Kelvin said. "But you did slap a creature older than most kingdoms and then spend four days proving he would respect you afterward."
Nysera rubbed her temple.
"When you say it like that it sounds dramatic."
"It was dramatic."
Nysera stared down into the courtyard.
"And you find this amusing."
Kelvin considered that.
"Extremely."
Nysera sighed.
"You are not helping."
"No," Kelvin admitted. "But watching you try to solve a political problem with emotional confusion is surprisingly entertaining."
Nysera looked at him sharply.
"Political problem?"
Kelvin raised an eyebrow.
"You thought the proposal was purely personal?"
Nysera opened her mouth.
Then closed it again.
Kelvin nodded knowingly.
"Yes."
Nysera turned back toward the courtyard.
"That is not comforting."
"No," Kelvin said cheerfully. "But it is accurate."
The balcony door opened again behind them.
Nysera did not need to turn to know who had entered.
The Beast King stepped outside quietly, his presence immediately altering the atmosphere of the balcony in the same subtle way a storm changes the pressure of the air long before thunder arrives.
Kelvin raised his cup slightly.
"Good morning."
The Beast King ignored him.
His gaze rested on Nysera.
"You left before I woke."
Nysera crossed her arms.
"I needed fresh air."
"And distance."
"Yes."
Kelvin cleared his throat.
"I will leave you two to your… discussion."
Nysera shot him a look.
"You are not escaping that easily."
Kelvin smiled.
"Unfortunately, I have guild business."
He slipped back through the door before she could protest.
The balcony fell quiet again.
Nysera turned slowly toward the Beast King.
"You should not say things like that."
"Like what?"
"Proposing marriage as if you are suggesting a change in battle strategy."
His expression remained calm.
"It was not a joke."
Nysera studied him.
"That is exactly the problem."
The morning wind moved through the balcony, lifting strands of her dark hair as the city below slowly awakened.
"You believe this will solve something," she said.
"Yes."
"And what exactly do you think it solves?"
"The uncertainty."
Nysera frowned.
"What uncertainty?"
"The city does not know what we are to each other."
"We are allies."
"Yes."
"And?"
"They believe it is more."
Nysera's voice sharpened slightly.
"And your solution is to make their rumors real."
"Yes."
Nysera stared at him.
"That is the worst logic I have ever heard."
The Beast King leaned slightly against the stone railing.
"It is effective logic."
"For war maybe."
"That is exactly what is coming."
Nysera hesitated.
She could not deny that.
The heavens had already noticed the city.
The earth itself had begun to move beneath it.
Everything pointed toward conflict.
Still—
"You cannot propose marriage as if it is a weapon."
"Everything becomes a weapon eventually."
Nysera laughed quietly.
"That may be the most depressing thing you have ever said."
His gaze did not waver.
"It is also true."
Nysera studied his face carefully.
"You are serious."
"Yes."
"You actually expect me to consider this."
"Yes."
Nysera shook her head slowly.
"You truly are impossible."
He did not argue.
Instead he said quietly,
"You did not refuse."
Nysera blinked.
"What?"
"You said you would not answer tonight."
"That is not the same as agreement."
"No."
"But it is not rejection either."
Nysera opened her mouth.
Then stopped.
Because he was not wrong.
And that irritated her even more.
"You are manipulating the conversation," she said.
"No."
"Yes."
"No."
Nysera exhaled slowly.
"You are unbelievably frustrating."
"I have been told."
The wind shifted again across the balcony.
Below them, the courtyard fighters had stopped practicing and were beginning to drift toward the hall for breakfast.
Nysera leaned against the railing beside him.
"Do you know what the worst part of your proposal is?"
"What?"
"That it almost makes sense."
The Beast King looked at her.
"Almost?"
"Yes."
"Then it is not a terrible idea."
Nysera rolled her eyes.
"Do not look so pleased."
"I am not pleased."
"You look pleased."
"I am patient."
Nysera glanced at him sideways.
"That is worse."
The silence between them settled into something less tense now, something almost thoughtful.
Then Nysera said suddenly,
"What if I say yes?"
The Beast King did not react immediately.
But something in his eyes sharpened.
"You would not."
"That is not what I asked."
He considered the question carefully.
"If you said yes," he said quietly, "the world would believe the beast has claimed you."
Nysera frowned slightly.
"And that would bother you?"
"Yes."
"Why?"
"Because it would not be true."
The honesty surprised her.
Nysera studied him.
"Then what would be true?"
He met her gaze.
"That you chose."
The words settled heavily between them.
Nysera looked away first.
The morning sun had climbed higher now, washing the rooftops of the city in pale gold.
"Your proposal," she said finally, "may be the cruelest joke I have ever heard."
"It was not a joke."
"That makes it worse."
The Beast King did not argue.
Instead he said quietly,
"Cruel or not… it remains."
Nysera did not answer.
But the silence that followed carried the weight of a possibility neither of them could dismiss anymore.
And somewhere in the city below, rumors had already begun to spread.
Because someone had heard.
And stories, once born, rarely died quietly.