"I knew it."
The words left my lips before I could stop them as I looked at him—properly this time, like I was afraid I might miss something if I blinked.
Silver—his hair was silver…..Not dull, not pale—but that soft cold kind of silver that caught the light just enough to make it look unreal. It fell past his shoulders, tied loosely at the back, but a few strands had escaped, slipping forward along his face. They brushed against his cheek, against the edge of his eyes—
Those eyes—amber. Warm, sharp, and completely unfamiliar in the way they looked at me now.
"You didn't change at all."
I stepped closer before I could think better of it, my gaze moving all over him with quiet certainty....
"I knew my life couldn't be that miserable," my words came in low voice, almost escaping the excitement of my shielded heart.
He was here....here, right in front of me.
Not fading. Not distant anymore. Not slipping away the moment I tried to reach him—just him in real.
My steps were quick—too quick—but I didn't slow down. Why would I? I had finally found him.
"I knew you did come for me," my words were broken, voice trembling in fear to lose it again, "Do you know how long I've been waiting?" eyes were almost teary.
No answer....no matter how long I wait.
That was fine. It always had been.
I closed the distance anyways and caught his hand before he could move.
Warm.
A small breath escaped me, something between relief and something far more embarrassing. My fingers tightened slightly, as if testing it, confirming his presence.
"You didn't disappear," I murmured, almost smiling to myself. "I knew one day you would come to stay. Take me away Love, life had been putting unbearable tests on me now—"
"Lady Anaphora," his sharp, cold voice cut before I could speak much.
I blinked. The smile on my lips didn't vanish—but it faltered, the tears in my left eye rolled down to the chin.
"Yes?" I tilted my head, studying him, waiting. "What happened?"
"I came to inform you. We depart tomorrow morning." His eyes cut sharp at mine in unfamiliarity and a certain disgust.
Silence took over for a moment.
"…..What?"
A short laugh slipped out of me. "That's not funny."
"It was not intended to be."
The amusement lingered on my lips for a second longer before slowly fading away. More than it was because I didn't get the context he was speaking to, it was those eyes with showed that indifference I never expected would turn me down. I was already betrayed by almost all, can't accept this one...can't.
"...Wherever you want me to I would go without hesitation, but what's with you. Why are you acting so—"
"My lady, it's hard for me to comprehend your words. Our relationship is just on papers, we have vowed to never cross that line."
His gaze dropped—to my hand. And then—calmly, almost carefully—he removed it.
Just like that.
My fingers stayed where they were for a moment, empty, before slowly curling into nothing.
"…..Don't play such games," I tried to speak stably, still my voice choking in itself.
He adjusted his glove. Like nothing had happened, like I never laid any fingers on him.
I clicked my tongue softly. "Ignoring me now? Since when do you do that?"
"...I believe you are mistaking me for the Prince. Maybe you are not in your right state of mind, take a good rest. Tomorrow's journey to the north will be a bit rough especially in this season." His eyes spoke for emptiness, like there was nothing, like there was never anything.
He didn't wait for any stretched talks, just turned away and began to walk.
Something in my chest tightened sharply as I watched him moving further away, instinctive panic rising before I could suppress it. "Wait—" the word slipped out, softer than I intended, but urgent enough to betray me. "You don't do this."
His steps didn't show the slightest halter.
"You don't leave me like this—"
The door closed before I could finish. The sound wasn't loud, wasn't harsh or abrupt. But it echoed anyway, settling into the silence like something far heavier than I should have been.
I stood there, staring at it long after he gone, my thoughts lagging behind the reality of what just happened. Please say I was dreaming again, it was just another worst lucid dreams of mine. After all my loss, I couldn't manage him—
I stood right there, my eyes felt warm enough to burst, but heart was numb enough to express anymore.
Even when I died. The memory hit like something quiet—but final.
A rope—that's what I used, quite cliché. A chair I stood on, that slipped too easily. A body that had already given up long before that moment.
No one stopped me. No one notice—how could they?. Of course they didn't.
I had always been like that—easy to overlook, easier to forget. The extra child in the orphanage. The one who ate last, worked first, and learned quickly that asking for anything only made things worse. School wasn't kinder. Work wasn't either. A life built on surviving, not living.
There was never anything worth staying for. Except—him.
The sea came first. it always did.
Dark waves, endless, quiet…..and him staying there like he had always belonged to it. Silver hair moving with the wind, eyes reflecting something warmer than the world had ever given me.
He never spoke. Not once, but he stayed.
We walked together in silence. Sometimes he offered me to eat too. Sometimes I talked, sometimes I didn't. It didn't matter. He never left halfway, never turned away, never looked at me like I was...…. Unnecessary. Even when everyone else did.
He disappeared every morning I opened my eyes, he was never there in what we call reality, but he came very night after the lights went off—people may call I was something close to stupid to believe on dreams.....but that was comfort for me. I yearned for him.
One day after that brutal assault at work which no one cared to listen once, no one cared to take my side once—again being called out for cheap methods to gain petty attention...…. I decided something simpler.
If m only one existed there—if he stayed when everything else disappeared—then that was real enough.
More real than anything I had lived.
.......
Slowly, my thoughts pulled me back to the state. The stillness of the room began to settle around me. It wasn't a cell.
That realization came first. The bed was neatly arranged, the sheet smooth and untouched as if no one had ever slept in them. A small table stood by the window, carefully organized, every detail placed with intention. Even the air clean, undisturbed, carrying none of the heaviness I would have expected from confinement.
It was comfortable. Too comfortable.
My gaze drifted back to the door.
Closed. Locked.
"….What is this?" The question came out quietly, more to myself than anything else, the unfamiliarity of my own voice sending a faint unease through me.
And then— something shifted.
At first, it was subtle. A faint pressure at the edge of my thoughts, like something trying to surface through water too thick to break. But then it grew sharper, more insistent, until it forced its way through whether I wanted or not.
Images—not mine.
A grand hall filled with people, their laughter hollow, their smiles too sharp to be genuine. A girl standing at the center of it all, her expression soft, fragile- too fragile—before it twisted into something else entirely when no one was looking.
Whispers followed. Low, still cutting through the ears. "Shameless." "Desperate." "Didn't know to this extend she can go—"
My breath caught, fingers tightening slightly as the weight of those words pressed down on me with unfamiliar clarity.
A knock came, softer this time.
"My lady…..may I enter?"
"…..Yes."
The door opened, the two maids stepped in, heads slightly lowered, movements careful—too careful. They didn't bother to look at me—not even by accident.
"We will assist you in preparing." One of them said smoothly.
I watched them for a moment. "Preparing for what?"
A brief pause. "for your departure, my lady."
"...Departure?"
"The carriage would be ready tomorrow early morning." their hands still folding on some clothes, as if unwilling to pay attention, as if my questions were all of no point.
The words felt distant, like they were meant for someone else. "Where?"
Another pause—smaller, but there. "To the northern estate."
North—the word settled coldly in my chest. And then—
A flicker. A hall, too bright. Voices layered and sharp.
"Poison—"
"—His majesty."
"—she finally crossed the line—"
"I didn't...."
My lips parted slightly, but the words never made it out. even in that memory, no one listened.
"...I see."
The maid stepped closer, lifting my hair with careful hands. Gentle, precise—yet there was no warmth in it. Not unkind….just distant. Like I was something to be handled, not someone to be known.
My gaze drifted to the mirror. Long, dark hair fell past my waist, faint violent catching in the light. Red eyes stared back—quitter than they should be.