Just as a good soldier should.
But as I knelt alone in our chamber, surrounded by the lingering scent of jasmine and the memory of happier hours, I wondered if being a good soldier was worth the price of my soul.
Chapter
Twelve
SERIN
Iwandered the palace grounds like a ghost haunting the ruins of his former life, my feet carrying me through gardens that had seemed like paradise mere hours before. Now the flowers appeared garish in their abundance, the fountains too cheerful in their singing, the very air too sweet for the bitter draught I'd been forced to swallow.
The coral crown of the Three Isles pressed against my thoughts like a physical weight, though it remained hundreds of leagues away across dark water. I could feel it waiting, that circlet of black iron and pearls torn from conquered seas, each gem a monument to someone's grief. Soon it would sit on my brow, and with it would come the transformation I'd fled across half the archipelago to avoid.
Duty flowed around me like a riptide, dragging me away from the shore of happiness I'd brieflyglimpsed and into the open ocean of responsibilities that would surely drown me. I was helpless against its pull, no more able to resist than a leaf could stand against hurricane winds.
The terrible irony was not lost on me. Rhazir had come to drag me home and place me on that throne, to fulfill his oath to protect not the man I was but the king I was born to become. Even if he loved me, and gods help us both, I believed he did, his duty would always come first. That was the nature of sworn swords, the bedrock upon which their honor was built.
How could I fault him for being exactly what I'd always known him to be?
I passed beneath olive trees heavy with fruit, their branches offering shade from the afternoon sun that seemed too bright for my darkening mood. Young acolytes lounged on marble benches, some reading scrolls of poetry while others simply basked in each other's company. Their laughter floated on the warm air like bird song, and I envied them their freedom with an intensity that made my chest ache.
They could love whom they chose. They could build lives around passion rather than politics. They would never know the weight of crowns or the price of blood-soaked legacies.
My heart cracked further as the full magnitude of my situation settled over me like a burial shroud. The one I loved, and yes, I did love him, had alwaysloved him even when I couldn't name the feeling, had betrayed me. Not from malice or greed, but from something far more implacable: duty. The same duty that would now drag us both back to a world where such love was impossible.
I found myself in a secluded garden where roses bloomed in defiance of the season, their petals soft as silk against my fingertips. The thorns drew blood when I gripped them too tightly, and I welcomed the sharp pain as distraction from the duller agony in my chest.
I had to return home. The Three Isles needed their king, and chaos would consume everything if I delayed much longer. Lords would be circling like vultures even now, testing boundaries, probing for weakness. Without a strong hand to guide them, civil war was inevitable.
But perhaps... perhaps it didn't have to end in complete catastrophe.
The thought crept into my mind like dawn breaking over the horizon, bringing with it the first glimmer of hope I'd felt since reading that damned message. I was being foolish, fighting with Rhazir when I should be treasuring what little time we had left. Why waste precious hours on recriminations when we could be together?
There had to be a way to navigate the treacherous waters ahead without losing everything that mattered. The old kings had made mistakes, I couldsee that now with painful clarity. They had tried to keep their loves in shadows, had let fear and paranoia poison what should have been sources of strength.
King Arrith had hidden his devotion to his sworn sword behind talk of brotherhood, and when that fiction collapsed he'd chosen death over dishonor. King Reus had elevated his beloved to positions that bred resentment among the nobility, making him a target for those who would destroy the king by destroying what he valued most.
I would not repeat their errors. I would find another path, one that honored both love and duty without sacrificing either on the altar of convention.
Something deep within my chest hummed with warmth, a connection I couldn't fully understand but dared not question. It whispered that Rhazir's intentions were pure even when his actions seemed like betrayal, that the feelings flowing between us were genuine even when circumstances forced him to choose duty over desire. This inner knowing had no basis in logic, yet it felt as certain as sunrise.
Perhaps this was what the priests spoke of when they mentioned divine inspiration. Perhaps Elyon himself was guiding me toward wisdom I couldn't achieve on my own.
My pace quickened as determination replaced despair, purpose driving me back through corridors that suddenly seemed filled with possibility ratherthan imprisonment. I would find Rhazir and make things right between us. I would tell him I understood his position, that I harbored no true anger over his faithfulness to his oath. Together we would find a way to honor both love and kingship.
The old ways were ending with my father's death. Perhaps it was time for something new to take their place.
Our chambers came into view like a beacon of hope, lamplight spilling from windows that had witnessed our first tentative steps toward something greater than either of us alone. I pushed through the door with eager hands, already forming the words that would heal the rift between us.
"Rhazir," I began, but the name died on my lips.
The room was empty.
Not just unoccupied, empty in a way that spoke of deliberate absence. His travel pack was gone from its place beside the window. The worn shirt I'd held that morning, breathing in his scent like a drowning man gasping for air, had vanished from the chair where I'd left it. Even his spare dagger, usually resting on the table beside his wine cup, was nowhere to be seen.
He had left me.
The realization hit with the force of a physical blow, driving me to my knees beside the bed where we had discovered paradise in each other's arms. The silk sheets still bore the impression of ourbodies, still carried the mingled scents of jasmine oil and desperate passion, but they felt cold now. Abandoned.
