The fire crackled softly, its fading glow casting long, restless shadows across Noa's tired face. The exhaustion etched into his features was impossible to hide. Lilya stood before him, her gaze unwavering, waiting for her brother's words with a patience that carried both pain and defiance.
Lilya: "Brother… why do you speak this way?"
Noa lowered his eyes to the ground. His voice was calm, but heavy, laced with a sorrow too deep to mask.
Noa: "I've told you before, Lilya… I am no longer a prince. All that remains of me is this body. Nothing more."
For a moment, silence hung between them. Then Lilya drew a sharp breath, anger flaring in her chest.
Lilya: "And what does that change? Rank does not define who you are. Not to me."
Noa let out a short, bitter laugh, the corner of his lips twisting with irony.
Noa: "In these last six months, I've come to understand the truth. This world turns only for power and position. A dragon without use… is worthless. I have no title, no value, no place. That is why I am nothing. When you are nothing, no one stands beside you."
Lilya's eyes softened as a memory surfaced.
Lilya: "Do you remember, brother? Four years ago, when we first met in the palace? We were children then, untouched by the weight of status or ambition. You took my hand, led me through the gardens, played with me as if I truly were your little sister. And when you met my brother, Rion, you called him your dearest friend. Were all those words… lies?"
Noa closed his eyes. Silence stretched again, this time sharper, heavier. When he spoke, his voice was quiet, yet edged like steel.
Noa: "Leave."
Lilya's heart thudded violently. Her lips trembled, but her eyes burned with unwavering resolve.
Lilya (to herself): "You never once treated me as a stranger, brother. And now you push me away—because you fear I'll suffer as you have?"
Lilya (aloud): "Leave? No. I will not. You can try to cast me aside, but you'll never be rid of me. You may only dream of that."
Noa looked at her in silence, the flames filling the space between their words. At last, he sighed, shoulders sinking beneath invisible weight.
Noa: "Very well… then sit. Sit beside me."
Lilya eased herself down next to him. Noa glanced at her from the corner of his eye.
Noa: "Tell me… why did Rion not come? For a princess to be sent to a place like this—it is unusual."
Lilya smiled faintly, though her voice carried a gravity that betrayed her heart.
Lilya: "Yes, many have asked me the same. My brother is bound by matters of the court, too important to leave behind. There was no one else in our family who could come. Yet the young soldiers had to be led here, and for the sake of honor, someone of our bloodline had to stand among them. So they chose me."
Noa said nothing. He could feel the steel in her words, the warmth in her presence. Yet the storm inside him would not quiet. He still saw himself as weak, stripped of title and worth. And though part of him longed to push her away again, he could not bring himself to drive his sister from his side.
((But as the flames waned, and silence reclaimed the night, questions remained—questions no fire could answer.
Did Lilya truly see Noa only as the brother she once claimed him to be, or was there something deeper—an unspoken recognition of a man worthy of standing beside her?
What bound Rion so tightly to the affairs of the court that he could not come, even when his closest friend stood in exile?
And how much longer could Noa endure this quiet humiliation, this life stripped of dignity, before the fire in his blood demanded release?
The answers lie ahead. Yet, for now, the shadows whisper only possibilities.
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Power Stone Question for Readers: Would you stand by Noa in his broken state as Lilya does, or would you, like the court, turn away from a fallen prince?))