Stephania stirred slowly, sunlight spilling through the gauzy curtains, warming the edge of the bed. Her lashes fluttered open and she froze for a heartbeat.
Asher was sitting in the chair beside her.
He wasn't watching her like a guard, or hovering like a worried lover. He sat there quietly, one hand resting against his jaw, the other loosely folded in his lap calm, patient. The look on his face was one she hadn't seen before.
Peaceful.
As if just watching her sleep had soothed something in him.
He noticed her waking and smiled, not with his usual charm, but something softer. "Good morning, wife."
Stephania blinked, still slightly dazed. "How long have you been sitting there?"
"A while," he admitted. "You sleep like someone who finally doesn't have to worry about locked doors."
She gave a small breath of amusement, not quite a laugh, but close. "Maybe I should be worried, considering who I married."
"I wouldn't blame you," he said, smiling, "but I promise I didn't steal your kingdom in the night."
"Yet," she added dryly, and this time, they both laughed.
For a few moments, it was just that light, quiet, something strangely domestic. A shared breath between two people who used to be strangers and were now something more.
They dressed quickly after that. No royal ceremony, no farewell from the palace.
King Everard, Queen Lirien , and all the Eldridan court believed they were leaving for Calonia—still playing the part of Princess Stephania and Prince Kael. But time was running out. Asher knew it.
The truth would surface soon.
So they left fast. No escort. No fanfare. Just the royal knights that Asher bought with
him . Inside, the silence stretched, heavy but not uncomfortable. Asher finally turned to her.
"I didn't let you bring your personal maids," he said gently, watching her reaction. "I know it must have felt sudden, even harsh."
Stephania looked at him, guarded. "You think they'd betray me?"
"I think king Everard would've placed someone close to you by now. If even one of them was loyal to him, this entire escape would collapse."
She frowned, but said nothing. He added, "I couldn't risk it. But don't worry. I've already sent word ahead. My people have chosen the best ladies-in-waiting for you,skilled, discreet, and loyal. You'll be safe. You'll be treated with the dignity you deserve."
Stephania studied him for a long moment, then nodded. "Thank you for thinking ahead."
He met her gaze. "Always."
The carriage rolled on, wheels turning toward the border.
Towards Vorga.
Towards war or peace. Neither of them knew yet. But at least they were facing it together now.
The road stretched endlessly ahead, dust rising behind the carriage wheels as golden morning turned into the hush of midday.
Stephania finally turned to him,
"What happens if father finds out the truth?" she asked. "That you're not Kael. That you're taking me to Vorga , not Calonia."
Her gaze was sharp, unreadable. "To him, it would look like you kidnapped the princess of Eldrida. That's enough to start a war."
Asher didn't look shaken.
Instead, he reached for her hand slowly, like he always did, like he was still asking permission even now. His fingers curled gently around hers, warm and firm.
"There won't be a war," he said calmly. "Because I planned this long before I ever touched your hand at the altar."
Asher's voice lowered slightly, almost amused. "The real Prince Kael is alive and well, tucked away in Calonia, drinking wine and writing beautiful, fluttering letters to Everard."
She blinked. "Letters?"
Asher nodded, a small smile tugging at his lips. "Letters full of dreams. Promises. Praise. Kael knows exactly how to stroke Everard's pride. He's telling him how this union will strengthen Calonia and Eldrida, how Everard's political genius has made history, how the wedding was perfect, and Stephania is now the jewel of their alliance."
"Kael is playing along with Everard's nonsense. Feeding his hunger for power. By the time your dear father realizes he's been lied to, we'll already be in Vorga."
Stephania's breath caught.
"He won't attack," Asher continued. "He'll beg. For you. For the princess he ignored, dismissed, locked in golden silence. The one he never cherished."
There was no malice in his tone, only certainty. As if he'd already lived the outcome and was now telling her the ending.
She looked down at their joined hands, his thumb brushing over her knuckles.
"You thought of everything," she murmured.
"I had to," he said softly. "I couldn't risk losing my empire and my family. And now that includes my wife as well."
For a moment, the tension slipped away. Outside, the world raced past, but inside the carriage, everything slowed.
And though she didn't say it aloud, Stephania realized something.
She was no one's prisoner.
Not anymore.
After four days of endless riding, the carriage finally slowed.
Stephania pushed aside the curtain, expecting to see lanterns, guards, maybe farmland or bustling life. But what lay before her was silence.
The border villages of Vorga looked dead.
Stone homes crumbled into ruins, roofs caved in, windows hollow. Ash coated the dry roads like a ghost that refused to leave. There were no animals, no children, no smoke curling from hearths. Just wind. And silence.
"your majesty," she whispered, her voice careful. "Where are the people?"
He didn't answer right away. His jaw tightened slightly, eyes fixed outside.
"This is your first day here," he said at last. His voice was quiet, gentle. "There's a lot I need to tell you. And I will. I promise. "
She turned to him, There was something in his face that made her pause. Not evasion. Not manipulation. Just pain. Carefully folded behind calm.
So she nodded. "Alright,"
But inside, something twisted. A dull ache bloomed in her chest.
what if Eldrida did this? Is her father and all those power hungry nobles are responsible for these ruins?
If this was the truth Asher had carried in his heart, then his hatred made sense. And for the first time, she understood that perhaps the enemy was never just a person but a legacy left unhealed.
He must have seen the way her expression shifted, because he reached for her hand again no words this time, just quiet warmth in his grip.
"My princess, you're not your father," he said, simply. "And I never once saw you as the one who lit these fires."
Stephania didn't speak. But she leaned slightly into his touch.