(Next Day)
(Eva’s House)
Eva fastened the final latch of the trunk.
The sound echoed through the house—hollow, final—far louder than it should have been. She stayed crouched for a moment, fingers resting on the worn leather, as if standing might undo what little strength she had left.
When she finally rose, her gaze drifted across the empty room.
This house had once breathed with warmth.
Her steps carried her toward the kitchen without her realizing it. Sunlight slipped through the window, falling across the counter, the stove, the wooden table where she had once sat and watched him cook.
Her chest tightened.
She could almost see him there—sleeves rolled up, hair falling into his eyes, pretending not to notice her staring while he stirred the pot.
“Princess,” his voice came softly from memory, warm and familiar. “Come here.”
Her breath caught.
She remembered how she had walked up behind him, how he had turned and cupped her face with hands still warm from the fire.
“I love you.”
The words wrapped around her heart—
Eva sucked in a sharp breath.
Kyel’s forehead had rested against hers, his voice low and certain. “I don’t say it lightly. I mean it.”
His arms had slipped around her waist, holding her close as if the world could not touch her there. “You’re my wife. The only woman I’ll ever want.”
He had smiled then—soft, hopeful. “One day,” he murmured, “this house will be filled with our child’s laughter.”
Kyel’s hand had rested over her stomach without thinking, instinctive, protective. “No matter what happens,” he whispered, “I’ll never abandon you—or our family.”
Her vision blurred.
The memory collapsed.
Eva staggered forward, gripping the counter as pain tore through her chest. A sob broke free before she could stop it. Her other hand moved to her stomach, trembling, as if shielding the life inside her from words that still cut too deep.
“If it was all a lie…” she whispered brokenly, “then why does it hurt like this?”
Footsteps sounded from upstairs.
Aranel appeared, holding a box, her eyes already red. “Eva,” she asked gently, “is there anything else left to pack?”
Eva wiped her tears quickly and shook her head. “No… there’s nothing left.”
Aranel nodded and turned toward the door. “I’ll load these into the carriage.”
When she left, the silence returned—thick and suffocating.
Eva looked down at her hand. The wedding ring still rested there. His final words echoed mercilessly in her mind.
Her fingers trembled as she slowly slid the ring off. For a moment, she hesitated, thumb brushing the metal as if hoping it might still mean something.
It didn’t.
She placed it on the kitchen counter. The soft clink sounded like a goodbye.
Aranel returned and froze at the sight of Eva breaking apart.
She rushed forward and pulled her into a tight embrace.
“Eva… think about it one more time. There’s still time. If you want, we can go to His Majesty. We can talk—”
Eva shook her head against her shoulder, crying. “No. There’s nothing left to talk about. I already signed the divorce papers.”
Aranel pulled back in shock. “It’s just paper. I’ll make him burn it—then you two can live together again—”
“He said he doesn’t care about our child,” Eva whispered. “He said he never loved me. He said I was nothing but a mistress.”
Aranel hugged her again, tighter, as if trying to hold her together.
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“I hate myself,” Eva sobbed. “Even after everything he said to me… I still love him. I hate myself for that.”
Her shoulders shook violently. “I want to leave,” she whispered. “If I stay here, I’ll never forget him.”
Aranel closed her eyes, tears spilling freely. “…Alright,” she said softly. “Then let’s go.”
Eva took one last look at the kitchen.
At the counter. At the ring.
Then she turned her back on it all—
.
.
.
(Royal Palace, Velmoria – Eyan’s Chamber)
Eyan sat on the cold marble floor, his back pressed against the wall, every muscle slack as if the weight of the world had crushed him. The silence of the chamber pressed down, heavier than any armor.
A knock echoed softly against the door.
“Enter,” he croaked, voice hollow.
Hans stepped in quietly, bowing low. “Your Majesty… I bring news.”
Eyan didn’t lift his eyes.
“The knight returned,” Hans continued, voice gentle but heavy. “He saw Her Majesty leave Velmoria this morning… she departed with Lady Aranel.”
Eyan made a small, almost inaudible hum.
Hans hesitated, glancing at him with concern. “Your Majesty… are you truly letting her go like this? There’s still time. You could stop her—bring her back.”
Eyan finally turned his gaze toward the floor, eyes vacant. “Hans… if you are done, leave. I want to be alone.”
Hans slowly reached into his pocket and produced something—a small, familiar glint. “The knight found this in her house… it was left on the kitchen counter.”
He stepped forward and placed the ring beside Eyan, its green gemstone catching the light.
Eyan did not move, did not reach for it. The ring sat there like a silent accusation.
Hans bowed once more. “Then I shall take my leave.”
The door closed softly behind him, leaving only the echo of emptiness.
Eyan finally turned his head. His eyes fell on the ring. The green stone shone, a quiet, painful reminder of everything he had lost.
A single tear slipped down his cheek.
“Goodbye… my love,” he whispered, voice breaking. “Please… be happy.”
He pressed his face into his knees, clutching at nothing, mourning everything.
--------------------------------------------------------
(Two days later)
(Royal Palace, Velmoria)
Hans ran through the marble corridor, boots striking the floor in frantic echoes. Without waiting for permission, he burst into the emperor’s office.
Hans was breathing heavily. “Your Majesty—”
Eyan looked up at once, concern sharpening his gaze. “Hans. What happened?”
Hans swallowed. “Your Majesty… Her Majesty—she never reached Seraveth.”
Eyan froze. Then he stood so abruptly his chair scraped back. “She boarded the ship,” he said. “I was told she boarded the ship.”
“She boarded the ship as planned,” Hans said quickly, fear trembling in his voice. “The knight saw her step inside with his own eyes. But when the ship arrived in Seraveth last night… she wasn’t there. She wasn’t on the ship at all.”
The color drained from Eyan’s face. “Then where did she go?”
Hans lowered his eyes. “We… don’t know, Your Majesty.”
That was enough.
Eyan stormed out of the office.
“Hans—prepare the knights. Ready a carriage. I’m going to Seraveth.”
Eyan and Hans hurried through the palace corridor, their footsteps sharp against the marble floor.
Eyan’s jaw was clenched, his pace relentless.
Behind them, a familiar voice rang out—smooth, amused.
“Oh my… Your Majesty,” Prince Velco drawled. “Are you going somewhere in such a hurry? You look rather… stressed.”
Eyan didn’t stop.
“Prince Velco,” he said curtly, eyes forward, “I don’t have time for this. I have urgent matters to attend to.”
Velco’s smile widened.
“Urgent?” he repeated. Then, louder—cutting through the corridor like a blade—
“Are you going to look for Lady Eva?”
Eyan stopped.
The silence that followed was heavy enough to suffocate.
Slowly, he turned.
“How do you know that?” Eyan asked.
Velco laughed softly, mockery dripping from every breath.
“Your Majesty, you should look at your face. You look far too worried for a woman you claimed meant to you.”
He stepped closer, eyes gleaming. “You really thought you could fool me with that little performance? Calling her a mistress, discarding her like she was nothing?”
Velco clicked his tongue. “You even tried to send her out of Velmoria so I wouldn’t find her.”
A pause.
“But I’m afraid I was one step ahead of you.”
Before Velco could finish, Eyan lunged forward and grabbed him by the collar, slamming him against the wall.
“What did you do?” Eyan snarled.
Velco didn’t resist. He only smiled. “I did nothing,” he said calmly. “I merely ensured she never boarded that ship.”
His eyes darkened. “The woman your knight saw leaving was not Lady Eva. It was someone else.”
Eyan’s grip tightened until his knuckles turned white. “If you touched her,” he hissed, “I swear I will dig your grave with my bare hands and bury you alive.”
Velco raised his brows mockingly. “Careful, Your Majesty. If something were to happen to me…” He leaned in. “You would never learn where she is.”
Eyan’s breath shook. Slowly, painfully, he loosened his grip and shoved Velco away.
“Where is Eva,” Eyan demanded.
Velco straightened his coat, then smiled sweetly. “I’ll tell you,” he said, “if you beg me.”
Hans stepped forward sharply. “Prince Velco, mind your tongue! How dare you speak to His Majesty like that—”
“Then I won’t tell you,” Velco interrupted coldly.
He turned to leave.
A single sound stopped him.
A dull, hollow thud
Velco turned back.
Eyan was on his knees.
The corridor seemed to freeze.
Hans’s eyes widened. “Your Majesty—!”
Eyan’s hands were clenched against the floor, his shoulders rigid. “Please,” he said, his voice breaking.
Velco tilted his head. “I didn’t hear that properly.”
Eyan swallowed. “Please,” he repeated. “Tell me where Eva is.”
Velco burst into laughter. “Oh my,” he said mockingly. “What a beautiful sight.”
He walked closer, looking down at him. “I never imagined I would see the Emperor of Velmoria kneeling before me—begging like a dog.”
Hans stepped forward, furious. “Prince Velco, enough—!”
“Hans,” Eyan said quietly. “Let him speak.”
Hans froze.
Velco studied Eyan with open fascination. “I must admit,” he said slowly, “your love for your wife is far greater than I expected.”
A cruel smile curved his lips. “It seems you would do anything to keep her safe.”
Then his voice turned sharp. “So you won’t mind releasing the Dragon King, will you?”
Eyan lifted his gaze slowly. “I knew it,” he said hoarsely. “This was your goal from the very beginning.”
Velco straightened, satisfaction gleaming in his eyes. “Of course it was,” he replied. “And fate was kind enough to hand me the perfect weakness.”
He stepped closer, lowering his voice as if sharing a secret.
“In exchange for her life, I want the Dragon King. Release him… and Lady Eva will walk free.”
Eyan’s fists trembled. “And if I refuse?”
Velco’s smile sharpened into something merciless..“Then she dies.”
He paused, watching the color drain from Eyan’s face.
“And,” Velco added casually, as if it were an afterthought, “so does the child growing inside her.”
The words struck like a blade.
Eyan froze—then his shoulders collapsed.
“I’ll do it,” he said.
Hans spun toward him. “Your Majesty—!”
“I’ll release the Dragon King,” Eyan continued, his voice hollow, defeated. “So don’t touch her.”
A breath.
“Don’t touch my wife. Don’t touch the child.”
Velco smiled, deeply satisfied. “Wise choice.”
He stepped back, already victorious. “You have my word. As long as you keep yours.”
Eyan rose slowly to his feet, his eyes empty.
