"What are you talking about?" Maria asked, her tone sharp, almost dismissive, like she could push the words away if she refused to accept them.
Havana didn't flinch.
A small smile touched her lips, not warm, not mocking either. Just certain. "I know what you and Drexo have been doing. This is my city. Nothing happens here for long without my knowledge."
The certainty in her voice settled heavily in the room. Maria held her gaze for a second longer, then nodded slowly. There was no point pretending. Not now.
"If you know," she said, her voice steadier than she felt, "then you should also know that your nephew and I love each other dearly."
The words hung between them.
Havana's smile faded, replaced by something quieter. Something almost tired.
She stepped closer. Slowly, and carefully. Then she placed her hand on Maria's shoulder. Light. Gentle. But it carried weight.
"I know how much you love him," Havana said softly. "And I understand how much you have sacrificed for him."
Maria stiffened.
The words landed deeper than the accusation had. For a brief moment, her composure cracked. Just a little. The memories came rushing in. The night she chose this path. The moment she turned her back on everything she had known.
Havana saw it. And pressed on. "But if you truly love someone," she continued, her voice calm, almost soothing, "their happiness, their survival becomes your happiness."
Maria nodded, though the movement felt heavy.
Havana didn't stop.
"What you have with Drexo right now, no matter how sweet it feels," she paused slightly, choosing her words, "will destroy him."
Maria's breath caught. Her eyes lifted sharply, and this time, there was no hiding the pain there.
"He is engaged to Friya Kenwool," Havana added, her tone tightening slightly. "He swore himself to her in the name of his god."
Maria's gaze dropped. The words pressed down on her chest like weight.
But Havana wasn't done.
She reached up and gently lifted Maria's chin, forcing her to meet her eyes again. "If he breaks that oath without a just cause, the gods will turn against him," she said quietly. "And so will the Kenwools."
A pause.
"And without the Kenwools," she exhaled softly, "what we have is nothing but a small army. One that will not survive Robert's full force."
The silence that followed was heavier than anything said.
Maria's lips parted slightly, but no words came out. Then the tears came. Slow at first, then steady.
Havana watched them fall, her expression unreadable. Then, without warning, she lowered herself.
Down to her knees.
Maria froze.
Completely. Her breath stopped. Her mind refused to process what she was seeing.
Havana kneeling.
"I have never knelt before anyone," Havana said, her voice lower now, stripped of its usual authority. "Not even my king."
Maria's hands trembled slightly at her sides. "But I am begging you," Havana continued, her head slightly bowed. "Please, end this with Drexo. Let him live."
The words broke something. Maria turned away sharply, her back facing Havana. Her fists clenched so tightly her knuckles whitened. The veins in her arms rose, visible, tense.
"You are asking me to leave the man I love?" she said, her voice shaking despite her effort to steady it.
"Yes," Havana answered. No hesitation. No softness. Just the truth.
"I know it is difficult," she added quietly. "But what good is your love, if it leads to his destruction?"
Maria spun around suddenly. "What about me?" she snapped, her voice rising. "What about my happiness?"
Her chest rose and fell quickly now. "I turned against my family for him," she continued, her voice cracking at the edges. "I walked away from everything. He is the only thing I have left."
Havana shook her head slowly. "He was never meant to be yours." The words struck deeper than anything else.
Maria flinched. Just slightly. "I acknowledge your sacrifice," Havana went on, her tone soft but firm. "I do. But what you gave up will mean nothing, if he dies."
Maria turned away again, slower this time. Her strength was slipping.
"What will become of me?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper. "I have nowhere to go."
"You won't be alone," Havana replied. Maria didn't turn. "When the war is over," Havana continued, "you will reclaim Snowland. You will have a place. Power. A future."
Maria let out a broken laugh. Then, slowly, she sank to the ground. "I do not want Snowland," she said, her voice hollow. "I want Drexo."
Her shoulders shook slightly now. "Why can't I just have what I want?" The question lingered in the air, raw and unanswered.
Havana rose to her feet. Her expression hardened again, though there was something else beneath it now. Something quieter.
"Because he was never meant to be yours," she said. The words came softer this time. But they cut just the same.
Maria went still, completely still. Havana watched her for a long moment, then turned toward the door.
She paused, her hand resting briefly against the wood.
"Think about this," she said without looking back. "Love becomes more painful when you watch the one you love lose everything, and die."
A pause.
"Think about it." Then she left. The door closed behind her with a quiet sound.
Maria didn't move. Not at first. The room felt too big now. Too empty.
The silence pressed in from all sides.
Slowly, her hands dropped to her lap. Her shoulders slumped. The strength she had been holding onto slipped away, piece by piece.
The tears didn't stop. They kept falling.
Quietly, and relentlessly. Deep inside, beneath the anger, beneath the resistance, something else stirred.
A truth she didn't want to face. A truth she had been pushing away since the beginning.
The world would never accept what she and Drexo had. And for the first time, she wasn't sure if love would be enough. If what she felt for Drexo was meant to defile the word, or to break.