His voice fractured.
“Was I not enough? Were our children not enough?”
Amerei’s throat tightened.
“Where is Princess Kastalya?” she asked gently.
“She has returned to Gearíya.”
His head lowered, the thin beaded braids in his hair rattling with the movement.
“And I fear… she will not return.”
“Your letter,” Amerei said carefully. “You seek divorcement, my lord?”
Xavien’s voice softened, every word placed like a hand at her back—guiding, not asking. His smile never reached his eyes.
“I seek love without fear of abandonment,” he answered. “Joy without regret. A companion who does not run from truth nor hide from conviction.”
His hand closed gently around hers, dark eyes lifting.
“The realm deserves such a queen.”
“The realm…”
“Do you believe in fate, Princess?”
His voice dropped to a hush.
She met his gaze, though her hand stilled against her skirts.
He leaned closer, the air between them scented with sun-kissed skin and spice.
“Soon, I will take you before the Senate. And if fate is kind, I shall be free to marry whom I choose.”
His voice slid low, warm enough to draw her close, sharp enough to warn her too late.
“Make no mistake, Amerei. It will not be anyone else.”
She went utterly still, pulling back slightly, heart stammering.
Before she could speak, a voice broke through the tension:
“Prince Xavien. The commander awaits your briefing in the solarium.”
He lingered another breath before he pulled away.
She drew herself taller, spine straightening beneath his gaze.
Don’t let him lead. Don’t let him own this moment.
“Then brief me first,” she said.
Surprise flickered across his face, then vanished as he inclined his head.
“Certainly, Princess.”
He folded his hands behind his back, a studied ease that felt like a test.
