Chapter 75
Peace did not just settle over the palace, it softened it.
The walls that once echoed with strategy and command now carried quieter moments, softer voices, and something unfamiliar to many who lived within them. Warmth.
And at the center of it all were Kael and Lyria.
They no longer walked separately.
They no longer held distance out of caution or duty.
Now, wherever Kael went, Lyria was close, and wherever Lyria stood, Kael was never far behind.
It started with something simple.
A hand.
One afternoon, as Kael walked through the palace corridors after a long council meeting, his expression still carrying the weight of decisions, Lyria appeared from the opposite end, her steps light, her presence immediately pulling his attention away from everything else.
"You look like you are still arguing with someone in your head," she said as she approached.
Kael exhaled slightly. "I am."
"Did you win?" she asked.
Kael looked at her. "Not yet."
She smiled softly and reached for his hand without hesitation.
That was new.
Not hidden.
Not careful.
Just natural.
Kael glanced down briefly at their joined hands, then back at her. "You are bold."
Lyria shrugged lightly. "I am tired of pretending I am not yours."
Kael's fingers tightened slightly around hers. "You never needed to pretend."
"Then why did it take you so long to act like this in public?" she asked.
Kael's voice lowered slightly. "Because I was still thinking like a prince."
"And now?" she asked.
He looked at her fully. "Now I am thinking like your mate."
That answer stayed with her longer than she expected.
From that day, it became normal.
They walked through the palace hand in hand, ignoring the glances, the whispers, the quiet smiles from servants who had never seen the seventh prince like this before.
There were moments when Kael would pause mid-conversation with a noble just to brush his thumb across Lyria's wrist, grounding himself in her presence.
There were times Lyria would lean slightly into him during formal gatherings, her presence softening his sharp edges without effort.
And then there were the moments no one was meant to see.
But the palace was never truly empty.
One evening, as the sun dipped low and the halls grew quieter, Kael pulled Lyria into a less-used corridor, his hand firm around her wrist as he guided her gently against the wall.
Lyria let out a soft laugh. "Kael… what are you doing?"
His voice dropped, lower than usual. "Taking a moment."
"You just left a meeting," she said, her breath already uneven.
"I know," he replied.
His hand moved to her waist, pulling her closer until there was no space left between them.
"You were distracted the entire time," he added.
Lyria raised an eyebrow slightly. "Oh? And how would you know that?"
Kael leaned closer, his lips brushing just near hers but not quite touching. "Because I was watching you instead of listening."
Her breath hitched slightly. "That sounds like poor leadership."
"Or good priorities," he corrected.
Before she could respond, his lips finally met hers.
Slow at first.
Then deeper.
More certain.
Lyria's hands moved to his shoulders, holding onto him as the world around them seemed to disappear entirely.
"Kael…" she whispered against his lips.
He did not pull away. "Yes?"
"You are becoming very… bold," she said softly.
Kael's voice was almost a murmur. "You said you wanted that."
"I did not say in the middle of the palace," she replied, though she made no effort to stop him.
Kael pulled back just enough to look at her. "Then you should not look at me like that in the middle of the palace."
Her cheeks warmed slightly. "I do not—"
"You do," he interrupted quietly.
Before she could argue, he kissed her again.
This time, she did not try to speak.
---
Not far from that corridor, unseen by them, Alvira had been walking toward the west wing.
She stopped.
Not because she intended to.
But because she heard something.
A voice.
A soft laugh.
Then silence.
Then something else she recognized instantly.
She stepped closer, just enough to see.
And there they were.
Kael and Lyria.
Close.
Too close to be mistaken.
Too real to ignore.
Alvira did not interrupt.
She did not move forward.
She simply watched for a moment.
And something in her expression softened in a way it had not in years.
A small, quiet smile touched her lips.
"They are in love," she whispered to herself.
But it was more than that.
It was familiar.
Painfully familiar.
Because the way Kael held Lyria…
The way Lyria responded without hesitation…
The way they looked at each other like the world outside did not matter…
Alvira had seen that before.
She had felt that before.
And just like that, the present faded.
Not completely.
But enough.
Her gaze lingered on them for a moment longer before she turned away quietly, leaving them in their moment.
But her mind had already gone somewhere else.
Somewhere distant.
Somewhere younger.
Somewhere she had not allowed herself to return to in a very long time.
And as she walked down the corridor alone, her fingers brushed lightly against the wall, her expression no longer just soft…
But remembering.