"Your Majesty… you have to marry me."
Eyan froze, eyes wide. "What?"
"I said, marry me. Now."
"I… I…" He stammered, unable to find words.
"Your Majesty," she pressed, her voice firm, "give me an answer. You said you would do anything to make it right."
Eyan ran a hand through his hair, his face flushed. "I… I need some time to think."
"You need time?" she asked, disbelief threading her voice.
"Yes," he admitted, swallowing hard.
"Fine, then. But Your Majesty… don't take too long."
He nodded, still looking uncomfortable. After a pause, he hesitated. "Lady Eva… can you… go back to your chamber now?"
"Your Majesty… this is my chamber. You came here last night… did you forget?"
Eyan glanced around, panic flickering in his eyes. "Forgive me… I—then I should take my leave."
He bent down hurriedly to pick up his clothes from the floor, his cheeks burning bright red. "Lady Eva… can you… turn back? I need to put these on."
She complied, turning away, lips pressed into a small, controlled smile.
Eyan fumbled with his clothing, his hands trembling slightly. Every movement seemed clumsy. He tugged at his shirt and tried to fasten it properly, glancing nervously over his shoulder.
"Your Majesty… are you done now? Can I turn around?"
He cleared his throat, avoiding her gaze. "I'm… done."
"Then I'll take my leave," he said quickly, stepping toward the door.
"Your Majesty?"
He stopped mid-step, shoulders stiff. "Yes?"
"You should clean it up… before you go outside."
"Clean what?" He furrowed his brows, confused.
She lifted a hand and gestured toward the mirror. His eyes followed—and froze.
Red lipstick marked the corner of his lips from the kiss last night.
Eyan's face flamed crimson. He swore under his breath, pressed his fingers to his lips, and tried to rub it off. "Oh… this…" His voice was tight, embarrassed.
He glanced at her briefly, still mortified. "Is it clean now?"
"Yes," she said simply.
"Then… I should… go now."
"Okay."
He opened the door slowly, took a deep breath, and stepped out, shutting it quietly behind him.
Eva let herself collapse back onto the bed, laughter bubbling up uncontrollably.
"I can't believe he fell for that," she whispered between chuckles.
"He looked so shocked… and guilty…" She laughed harder, clutching her stomach as the laughter shook her.
Finally, she lay back against the pillows, catching her breath. "Now… all I have to do is wait for his answer."
Her eyes narrowed, voice firm. "Eyan… now you have no other choice but to marry me."
---
Eyan closed the door behind him, the click echoing in the quiet chamber like a verdict. He sank onto the edge of the bed, hands covering his face, as if trying to block the chaos in his mind.
"Eyan… you idiot… what have you done?" he hissed through clenched teeth, his voice low and rough.
He slammed a fist onto the bed beside him, the sound sharp in the silence. "How could you lose control… just because you were drunk? How… how could you let it happen?"
Memories—or fragments of them—flashed across his mind. His heart pounded in his chest, each beat a drum of guilt. "I… I even forced her to sl—" He cut himself off, shuddering violently.
Her tears… he could still feel them, warm and helpless against him. "She was crying… crying because of me… what else have I done to her?" His hands clawed at his hair, tugging at it in frustration.
He rocked forward slightly, gripping his head. "I can't.. I can't even remember a thing clearly… , how am I supposed to make this right?"
Anger erupted, not at anyone else, but at himself. "Why, Eyan? Why couldn't you hold yourself together?"
His shoulders shook as the words spilled out in a mix of self-reproach and desperation. "No…I have to do something. I have to fix this… I have to make a decision… and it has to be now."
---
Eva sat alone in her chamber. Her hands twisted restlessly in her lap, her heart hammering.
"How long… how long do I have to wait for his answer?" Her voice broke in the silenc.
A knock interrupted her thoughts.
"Lady Eva." Hans's voice came muffled through the door.
Eva rose quickly, smoothing her dress, She opened the door.
"His Majesty has summoned you," Hans said softly.
"Alright…" Her heart dropped into her stomach.
The walk down the long corridor felt endless. When Hans knocked on the heavy door of the Emperor's office.
"Your Majesty, Lady Eva is here."
"Come inside." The voice was deep.
Hans opened the door. Eva stepped into the office.
"You may leave us," the Emperor said quietly.
Hans bowed. "Yes, Your Majesty." He closed the door behind him, leaving only the two of them and the cold air between them.
Eva forced herself to meet Eyan's eyes. "Your Majesty… have you made up your mind?"
"Yes." His reply was low and final.
Her hands tightened. "Then… what's your answer? Are you going to marry me—"
"No." His tone was soft, but the word was a blade. "Lady Eva, I can't marry you."
Her world tilted. "What…" her voice trembled, "but you said you would take responsibility."
"I will."
He reached for a bundle on his desk — papers, sealed with his own signet, and five heavy pouches that clinked with gold.
"Here," he said, "this is for you."
She blinked, not understanding. "What is this, Your Majesty?"
"Coins and land papers. Signed already. This land is yours now." He lifted the parchment as if offering a gift. "Take it."
Her hands clenched so tightly her nails bit into her palm. "Is this some kind of joke?"
"No. I know I can't undo my mistake, but I'm trying to compensate you." His voice was steady, "If it's not enough, I can give you more."
He reached for another bag of gold. "Tell me how much you wan—"
Tears spilled over her cheeks. "Stop."
He froze.
"Stop throwing your fortune at my face." Her voice cracked like glass. "I asked you to take responsibility and marry me, and you—"
"I told you, I can't marry you—"
"Why?" Her sob tore through the room. "Why can't you marry me?"
She stepped closer, her eyes burning into his. "Is it because I'm a commoner? Because marrying me would ruin your image?"
Her voice rose higher, hysterical. "Or do you think I'm some low, filthy woman who sneaks into men's beds for coins? Do you think I go around sleeping with any man who tosses gold at me?"
Eyan's composure cracked. "Eva.." he roared.
But she kept going, trembling all over, tears streaking her face. "Why are you angry? I should be the one angry! Do you think your money can buy back the dignity you took from me? Do you even know how I will face my husband after what happened?"
"You can tell him everything," he said hoarsely. "I'm sure he will understand."
Her laughter was broken, a sound of pain. "So you're telling me to go to my husband and say, 'Last night I was in the Emperor's bed, sleeping with him behind your back'? You think he'll forgive me?"
Silence.
Her tears dripped onto the carpet. "your majesty I'll ask you again." She stared at him with raw desperation. "Are you going to marry me or not?"
"No."
"Is that your final answer?"
"Yes."
Her body shook like a leaf in a storm. "Then… then you've left me no choice."
Her voice trembled as she whispered, "Your Majesty… remember to take responsibility for what happens next."
Before Eyan could react, Eva wrenched the door open and bolted down the corridor, skirts twisting around her ankles.
"Lady Eva—wait! Where are you going?" His voice cracked, but she didn't look back.
He ran after her, boots pounding against the polished marble, his heart hammering painfully in his chest. "Lady Eva, stop—where are you going?"
She reached the palace balcony and, without hesitation, climbed onto the stone balustrade of the highest terrace.
When Eyan finally caught sight of her, His heart stopped. She was standing on the edge — too far, too high. The wind tangled her hair and pressed her dress against her trembling body. One step and she would be gone.
"Lady Eva—what are you doing?! Are you out of your mind?" His voice broke as panic clawed up his throat.
"Yes, Your Majesty, I am out of my mind!" she cried, tears streaming down her cheeks.
He inched forward, hands trembling. "Lady Eva, get down from there—you'll fall."
"Don't come close!" Her scream tore through the air like glass shattering. "Stay where you are!"
"It's all because of you, Your Majesty," her voice cracked, raw and broken. "You ruined my life, and you're not accepting me. I don't have a choice left but to die and end it all!"
He felt his knees weaken, his vision blur. "Eva—don't say that. It's not funny. Please, listen to me. Get down from there."
"Stay where you are," she sobbed. "There's nothing left to talk about now!"
"No—Eva, please, I beg you…" his voice was hoarse, trembling. "Please, get down from there, you'll hurt yourself. I—"
"Your Majesty…" she spat the title like poison. "Are you worried about me—or are you worried about yourself?"
He froze, his breath shuddering.
She laughed, a sound like breaking glass, and tears streaked down her cheeks. "Are you thinking that if I die here, what will people think? Don't worry, Your Majesty—you can just give them some money and no one will say a thing."
"Eva—"
She took a step back.
"Don't move!" His vision blurred. "Please, don't. Please, Eva…"
She took another step back.
"Goodbye, Your Majesty." her foot finding only air.
"Eva—!" He lunged forward, but his hands caught only empty air as she vanished from the ledge.
Her scream ripped through the night.
"Eva, no!" Eyan's own voice broke as he leaned over, frozen in horror, seeing her small body plunge into the waters below.
For one heartbeat, he stood frozen—then something inside him snapped, and he threw himself over the balustrade after her.
The water was cold and heavy. He saw her sinking, her limbs thrashing weakly before going still. She couldn't swim. She was going under.
"No…" he gasped underwater, reaching for her. He grabbed her hand, pulling her against him with all his strength and kicking upward until they broke the surface.
He hauled her to the shore, dragging her onto the stones, his hands shaking as he pressed her to his chest. "No… no… please don't…"
Her lips were pale, her eyes closed. He shook her gently, then harder. "Eva, open your eyes… open your eyes!"
She didn't move.
He bent over her, pressing his mouth to hers, forcing air into her lungs. Again. Again. His hands rubbed her arms, her cheeks. "Eva—please—please, open your eyes…"
Still, she didn't move.
He scooped her up in his arms, running inside the palace, water dripping from both of them, his heart a raw wound.
"Hans! Hans!" His voice echoed down the halls.
Hans came running. "Yes, Your Majesty?"
"Call the palace physician now—hurry!"
Hans bowed and sprinted away.
Eyan laid Eva on his bed, rubbing her cold hands between his palms. "Eva…" His voice cracked. "Eva, please…"
The palace physician rushed in with his satchel.
"You—come here and treat her, now! Fast—she was drowning, she swallowed water—"
His hands trembled where they gripped the sheets. "Do something—she's not opening her eyes!"
The palace physician knelt quickly beside the bed but looked up at him with measured urgency. "Your Majesty, please calm yourself. But first—can you leave the room? I need to examine the lady."
"No…" Eyan's answer came out raw and jagged. "I'm not going anywhere."
Hans, standing just behind him, moved forward. "Your Majesty—please," he murmured, gripping Eyan's arm. "Let the physician do his work."
Eyan didn't move. His eyes were wild, wet, unfocused.
Hans tightened his hold and gently but firmly pulled him from the bedside. "Your Majesty…" he whispered again. "Please."
At last Eyan stumbled back, letting himself be guided out into the corridor. The doors closed behind them with a soft but heavy sound.
Hans turned to face him fully. "Your Majesty, please—get hold of yourself."
But Eyan's composure cracked. Tears slipped down his cheeks unchecked. "Hans… she can't swim… she just jumped into the water…" His voice broke, his chest rising and falling. "I just stood there—I couldn't do anything…"
His hands shook violently as he pressed them over his face. "It's my fault… because of me she's lying like that…"
He dropped his hands and looked at Hans, eyes red, voice trembling. "Hans, if something happens to her… I can't forgive myself…"
The hall was silent except for his ragged breathing, and the sound of water still dripping from his soaked clothes onto the marble floor.