Chapter 77
The memory did not come back all at once.
It unfolded slowly, like something long buried finally finding its way to the surface again.
Alvira walked through the quiet halls of the palace, but she was no longer truly there. The present blurred around her, replaced by a time when everything had felt different, lighter, uncertain in a way that had not yet hardened into responsibility.
She stopped by a window without realizing it, her fingers resting lightly against the frame as her gaze drifted far beyond the palace grounds.
And then she saw it.
Not the present.
But the past.
A younger version of herself standing in a garden filled with blooming white flowers, the air warm, the sky painted in soft gold as the sun began to set.
She had been laughing.
Not the controlled smile she wore now.
Not the measured composure of a queen.
But a real laugh.
Free.
Unrestrained.
"You are not listening to me," a voice said behind her.
Alvira turned in the memory, her younger self still smiling. "I am listening."
"You are not," the man replied, stepping closer.
Zack.
Not the man he had become.
But the man he once was.
Less guarded.
Less distant.
Still sharp, still observant, but not yet closed off.
"You asked me to come here," he said, crossing his arms slightly. "And now you are ignoring me."
Alvira tilted her head slightly, teasing. "Maybe I just wanted you here, not your endless thoughts."
Zack raised an eyebrow. "My thoughts are the reason you asked for my opinion."
She stepped closer to him, her smile softening. "And what if I changed my mind?"
Zack looked at her carefully, studying her in that way he always did, as if trying to understand something deeper than what she showed.
"You rarely change your mind," he said.
"Maybe I do when it concerns you," she replied.
That caught his attention.
Zack uncrossed his arms slowly. "That sounds like a dangerous statement."
Alvira's smile lingered. "Only if you take it seriously."
Zack stepped closer, closing the distance between them. "And should I not?"
Her breath slowed slightly as he moved closer.
"That depends," she said softly.
"On what?" he asked.
"On whether you are ready to hear things you cannot ignore after," she replied.
Zack's gaze did not waver. "Try me."
For a moment, neither of them spoke.
The air shifted, just slightly.
The same way it had with Kael and Lyria.
Unspoken.
But understood.
Alvira looked at him, really looked at him, and for once there was no title, no expectation, no future pressing on her shoulders.
Just him.
Just her.
"I like you," she said.
Simple.
Direct.
Unhidden.
Zack did not react immediately.
Not because he did not feel it.
But because he was processing it in the only way he knew how.
"You already knew that," he said.
Alvira frowned slightly. "That is your response?"
Zack stepped closer again, his voice lower now. "No."
He reached out, his hand brushing lightly against hers.
"This is."
He did not rush.
He did not hesitate.
He simply leaned in and kissed her.
Not the controlled affection of royalty.
Not the careful restraint of expectation.
But something real.
Something new.
Alvira's breath caught as she responded, her hand tightening slightly around his.
When they pulled apart, she looked at him with surprise still lingering in her eyes.
"You took your time," she said softly.
Zack's expression was calm, but there was something warmer beneath it now. "I needed to be certain."
"Of what?" she asked.
"That you meant it," he replied.
Alvira smiled faintly. "And now?"
Zack's gaze softened just slightly. "Now I know."
She laughed quietly, shaking her head. "You always make things sound like an experiment."
Zack tilted his head slightly. "Everything is an experiment."
Alvira stepped closer, her voice softer. "Then what are we?"
Zack did not answer immediately.
Instead, he placed his hand at her waist, pulling her gently closer.
"Something worth continuing," he said.
That answer stayed with her.
Not dramatic.
Not poetic.
But honest.
And at the time, that was everything.
---
The memory shifted again.
Different day.
Different place.
A corridor this time.
Quieter.
More hidden.
Alvira stood near the wall, her arms crossed as she waited.
"You are late," she said as Zack approached.
"I was occupied," he replied.
"With what?" she asked.
"Matters that required attention," he said.
Alvira rolled her eyes slightly. "You always say that."
Zack stepped closer. "Because it is always true."
She looked at him for a moment, then sighed softly. "You are impossible."
"And yet you are still here," he replied.
Alvira's expression softened despite herself. "That does not mean I am not reconsidering."
Zack moved even closer, his voice lowering. "You are not."
"How do you know?" she asked.
"Because you would have left already," he said.
She tried to argue.
But she could not.
Because he was right.
Zack's hand moved to her chin, lifting it slightly so she had no choice but to look at him.
"You think too much," he said.
Alvira smiled faintly. "And you do not think enough."
Zack leaned in slightly. "I think enough about you."
Her breath caught again.
"You always say things like that so calmly," she whispered.
"Because I mean them," he replied.
And just like that, he kissed her again.
This time, she did not hesitate at all.
---
The memory faded slowly.
Not abruptly.
Not painfully.
Just… quietly.
Alvira blinked, her gaze returning to the present.
The palace corridor came back into focus.
The silence returned.
But something inside her had shifted.
Her fingers moved slightly, as if remembering a touch that was no longer there.
She let out a small breath.
"So that is where he got it from," she murmured softly.
Because the way Kael had looked at Lyria…
The way he had held her…
The way he had chosen her openly…
It was not unfamiliar.
It was inherited.
Not in blood.
But in feeling.
Alvira turned slowly, continuing down the hall, her expression thoughtful now, softer than before.
And for the first time in a long time…
She allowed herself to remember without regret.
Because somewhere along the way…
That version of love had not disappeared.
It had only changed.
And maybe…
Just maybe…
It was not too late to feel pieces of it again.