The sunlight poured through the curtains, stirring me from the quiet I had forced myself into.
The scent of roses and incense still clung to the royal chamber, a reminder of last night, of vows exchanged and promises sealed.
The bed was slightly rumpled, a quiet mark of what had been made official between Lyra and me.
I stood at the balcony, letting my gaze sweep over Duskmoore. Mist curled over rooftops, merchants' calls echoed faintly, and the bells in the square rang clear in the crisp morning air.
The city was calm, orderly, and yet I felt none of the peace it should have brought.
Thoughts of the past, of Selene, lingered faintly at the edges of my mind, but I forced them aside.
Lyra sat inside brushing her hair, calm and deliberate. She was my Queen now, bound to me by vows and law. I could not deny the hollow ache that lingered, the memory of a mate I had lost to accusations I could not fully question at the time.
A knock at the door drew my attention. A servant entered, carrying breakfast. Silver bowls clinked softly, steam rising from warm spiced oats. "Breakfast for Their Majesties," the young woman said, bowing low.
I only nodded faintly as Lyra instructed her to leave it there. My thoughts drifted back to the balcony, where the city stretched before me and the desert borders beyond it.
Before I could return to my reflection, Dark entered, moving with his usual precision. His presence carried the weight of the borderlands, of duty, of caution, reminders that even now, peace was never guaranteed.
"Your Majesty," he said, bowing, "scouts report activity along the southern borders. Thrax's forces have been observed near the rogue settlements. Organized and heavily armed."
I felt nothing but measured interest. "Thrax," I muttered, watching the mist curl over the rooftops. "He is no threat to Duskmoore."
Dark's eyes narrowed. "Not a threat? My king, he moves with authority, and his men are plentiful . Even the rogue packs follow him."
I turned my gaze to the horizon, thinking of the Alpha King. Thrax was formidable but principled. He would not risk unnecessary war or violate Duskmoore territory without reason.
My attention was not on him, not yet. "Thrax carries himself with dignity. He values order. The rogues may squabble, but their leader will not make a move unless necessary. I have no interest in unnecessary conflict."
Dark studied me, clearly uncertain. "And if he decides to act?"
I shrugged lightly, though my posture remained firm. "Then he will face consequences. Until then, let him manage his own territory. The border packs have never threatened the core of Duskmoore, nor will they, if Thrax respects boundaries as I expect him to."
After that Dark bowed and swiftly departed, I returned my gaze to the city, the early sun warming my back. I let the quiet settle, tasting the normalcy of a morning where my decisions mattered and my responsibilities were clear. I finally allowed myself to imagine that maybe the ache in my chest could soften.
Then, something caught my attention below. A figure stood near the edge of the courtyard outside the balcony: Dael, leaning casually against the wall with a sly grin.
"Your Majesty," he called out, loud enough for me to hear but still teasing, "so this is how you spend the morning after, huh? Watching the city and pretending you slept alone?"
I felt a flush rise to my cheeks, both irritation and embarrassment tugging at me. I glanced at the empty balcony, then back at him. "Dael, you are insufferable," I muttered, though a corner of my mouth betrayed a hint of amusement.
He chuckled, leaning closer beneath the balcony rail. "Oh, come now, King, I've seen the way Lyra waits on you. Surely there was more than just vows last night?"
I stiffened and tried to focus on the city, refusing to look at him, but then I felt movement behind me. Lyra had appeared at the balcony door, her expression a mixture of curiosity and embarrassment. She rested her hand lightly on the frame.
"I heard that," she said softly, though her tone carried amusement. "Are you two going to bicker out here all morning, or can I enter without fear of public humiliation?"
"Public humiliation?" I shot back, trying to regain my composure. "I am the King. I have no fear."
Dael laughed heartily, waving a hand toward her. "Oh, yes, Your Majesty, brave and stoic. But only when your queen isn't watching, right?"
Lyra crossed her arms, trying to hide her smile. "Dael, you really should mind your tongue. Or do you take pleasure in embarrassing your King?"
He only grinned wider. "I live for it, Lady Lyra. Besides, you can't blame a man for wanting to see how the King handles domestic affairs."
I groaned and turned to Lyra, voice low. "I swear, if he continues, I will have him flogged."
She laughed softly, the sound light and effortless. "Oh, I wouldn't dare get in the way of your justice."
Dael raised his hands in mock surrender. "Your Majesty, I am merely here to keep the record straight. Everyone should know that their King can blush, yes, even with silver threads woven into his robes and royal blue adorning him."
Lyra glanced at me, a faint blush tinting her cheeks. "Royal blue suits you," she said quietly. "Especially with your tinged cheeks right now."
I looked away, unsure whether to laugh or groan. "Dael, that is enough," I said, though my tone lacked conviction. "Leave before you make this worse."
With one last grin, he straightened and bowed slightly. "As you command, Your Majesty. But remember, I will never let you forget this morning."
Once he left, the balcony grew quiet again. I exhaled slowly and finally allowed myself to look at Lyra fully. "I don't usually lose my composure," I said, more to break the tension than to boast.
She smiled faintly, stepping closer. "Clearly, exceptions exist," she replied, her tone teasing but gentle. "I think you did well, though. Graceful, even with your… blush."
I shook my head, trying to dismiss it. "Graceful is not the word I would use."
Her hand brushed mine lightly as she reached for the balcony rail beside me, and I let the contact linger, allowing a small warmth to spread across my chest. Trust and companionship were fragile, but they were building, moment by moment.
I turned my attention back to the city, letting the morning sun warm my back. "From now on," I said, low, to no one in particular, "we continue with the work of ruling. And I will face it, with you at my side."
She gave a small nod, her expression earnest. "I will stand with you, Vaelen. That is all I ask."
The city below bustled, oblivious to the quiet conversation and fragile beginnings of the royal couple above. I let myself imagine a day where I was not haunted by the past, where duty and companionship could coexist with the faint possibility of trust, and perhaps one day, something more.
I looked down at Lyra, and for the first time in a long while, I allowed myself to feel a sense of peace. Not love yet, not fully, but a quiet acceptance that this was a beginning. A path forward.
I poured two cups of wine, handing one to her as she leaned against the balcony rail beside me. "To the city, and to the morning after," I said.
She smiled, taking it. "And to surviving your friend Dael's commentary."
I chuckled, raising my cup slightly. "I suppose we should."
For the first time since the judgment, I let myself imagine a future where I could move on, one step at a time. The past lingered, yes, but it no longer controlled me. Duskmoore had its King, and beside him stood his Queen. That was enough for now.