Days turned into weeks, and the world around them buzzed with the usual rhythm of power and politics. Yet, beneath the surface, the silence between Anastasia and Vincent began to weigh heavily. Their eyes would meet across crowded rooms, filled with formalities and expectations, but the unspoken truth between them was like an invisible thread binding them, even as they remained distant.
Vincent, ever the enigma, kept his charm and charisma for the world but found solace in the moments when it was just him and Anastasia, even if those moments were fleeting. Despite the cold facade, he had never been more alive. His thoughts were filled with her—her smile, the way her eyes softened when she looked at him, the warmth that lingered after their private moments.
Anastasia, too, found herself caught in the same storm of emotions. The weight of her crown, the responsibilities of ruling, and the need to uphold the family's legacy never seemed so heavy. She could no longer pretend that Vincent was just another fleeting part of her life. He had become more than that—much more. But she had learned, perhaps the hardest lesson of all, that love came at a price, and this love would never see the light of day. Not in public, not in front of their families, not in front of the world.