The doors groaned open with effort, but I could see the power in their arms. Those doors were heavy, forged from oak and layered with iron and gold. It had to weigh more than an entire cart of bricks.
And they opened it without a single complaint. My stomach turned, and my heart sank.
Escape, it seemed, was second to impossible.
Sargis’s POV
I couldn’t stop watching her.
Narine looked around the throne room like she’d just stepped into a dream. Her eyes widened with every turn, column, and glint of gold and cut crystal. I half-expected her to spin in a slow circle or press her face to the windows in wonder.
It was the first time I saw that many expressions dance across her face, curiosity, awe, hesitance, a pinch of fear, then wonder again. Like a soul who had never been allowed to dream. That realization tightened something in my chest.
The elevator earlier had caught me off guard too, her panic, and the sheer terror in her eyes. She’d looked at the floor like it might swallow her whole. It hadn’t occurred to me that she’d never been in one before, and she’d gripped me like a lifeline; this part I found cute.
What kind of life had she lived?
No… I already knew the answer.
And as she stood before the thrones, I made myself a promise.
When she’s ready, when she looks me in the eyes and finally accepts me as her mate, I’ll take her to see the world.
Not just palaces and politics. The world.
She deserved that much, didn’t she? For everything she’d been denied, for every door locked against her, for every night she fell asleep believing no one would ever protect her.
She deserved everything.
I found myself staring at the thrones alongside her. My gaze drifted to the second seat matching mine in elegance and weight. I could almost see her there, wrapped in official robes, and a coronet of moonlight silver resting atop that wild halo of hair.
My queen.
She wouldn’t just sit there for show. She’d rule, challenge, learn to raise her voice, and silence an entire court. And by the time I took her hand in mine before our people, they would kneel.
One day. If she lets me.
The guards opened the throne room’s rear doors, and sunlight spilled in like it had been waiting behind the glass for centuries. Narine flinched at first, squinting and shielding her eyes with her small hands.
She wore one of my new joggers, cinched snugly at the waist with a drawstring. The fabric still looked hilariously large around her ankles. Her top was a plain black turtleneck, slightly oversized, and the sleeves bunched at her wrists. But the crown jewel?
Winnie-the-Pooh slippers.
I swear, if the Elders saw her like this, they’d spontaneously combust. And I’d happily watch.
I bit back a laugh and forced myself to focus. I led the way down the marble steps toward the lower courtyard. The sun was gentle today, and the wind was calm, perfect for where we were going.
The garage stood at the far end. As we approached, a chauffeur already stood beside one of the royal limousines, bowing the moment he spotted me. He reached for the handle, but I raised a hand to stop him.
“I’ve got it.”
He bowed lower and stepped aside wordlessly.
I opened the door myself and gestured for Narine to get in. She hesitated for a moment, probably sizing up the sheer length of the vehicle before ducking in, using my hand as a guide so she wouldn’t hit her head. She still looked around in wonder, like every piece of this world was something foreign.
Once she was settled in, I slid in beside her and shut the door.
The glass partition lowered.
“Where to, Your Majesty?”
“The Royal Garden. Velariad,” I replied.
The partition rose again, sealing us in.
She turned her head slowly, taking in the interior.
I watched her silently, unable to help the slight smile tugging at my lips. I wanted to know what she was thinking.
Was she scared? Curious? Was this all too much? Hell, was she okay?
I shifted, leaning toward the mini-fridge built into the back wall.
“I think I have a few junk options in here…” I muttered, rummaging through drinks, tiny bottles, and wrapped snacks until I found the treasure I vaguely remembered stashing.
Bingo.
A full, unopened giant bag of M&M’s.
I held it out to her. “Here,” I offered gently. “You can munch on it while we make our way there.”
She blinked at it, eyes wide with surprise, then glanced from the bag to me.
Slowly, she reached out with both hands and took it from me.
We sat in silence as the limo began to move. She sat curled at one end of the seat, with the M&M’s cradled in her lap.
She tore the bag open with no hesitation, dipped her small hand inside, and pulled out a colorful handful of candy-coated chocolates. Without a second thought, she shoved them into her mouth.
A soft smile escaped me before I could help it.
I figured she had a sweet tooth ever since that banana incident, when her entire face lit up at the taste. Ever since then, I’d made it a quiet mission to spoil her with snacks, cookies, candies, and muffins from the royal kitchen. She liked sweets. It was such a simple thing, but it told me more than she’d ever said out loud.
Her head bobbed slightly as she chewed, entirely focused on the candy, and I kept my eyes fixed on her, drinking in the moment like I’d never get another. Everything she did fascinated me. The way she blinked slower than most people. The way her nose twitched just a little when she was unsure. Even the way she breathed, like it took effort.
She looked up slowly, sensing my gaze.
I quickly averted my eyes, pretending to be completely enraptured by the passing scenery.
The last thing I wanted was to make her self-conscious. She’d only just begun to relax around me, to exist in the same space without bracing for pain or punishment. I wouldn’t take that from her.
I stuck my index finger in my mouth and bit down gently on the side of it. A dumb habit. One I hadn’t done since I was a kid. But it kept my hands from doing what they wanted, reaching out, and tucking that loose strand of hair behind her ear just to see her face more clearly.
I glanced at her again, more subtly this time.
She wasn’t looking at me anymore. Her attention was on the window, wide-eyed and quiet. Her platinum hair fell like silk around her shoulders, some strands slipped across her face. The sunlight kissed her skin, and it made her look… ethereal.
I closed my eyes for a second, trying to imagine it. Would her voice be as soft as she looked? Gentle and lilting, maybe with a touch of rasp, something that clung to your ears like a melody you didn’t want to forget?
Or would it surprise me completely? Sharp and dry like her glares when she was annoyed, or low and even, the kind that commanded a room despite its volume?
I smiled at the thought, with my eyes still closed.
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