Axel's jaw tightened, but he said nothing more. He moved closer, his actions deliberate but devoid of tenderness. There was no romance, no affection—only the cold fulfillment of an obligation neither of them wanted but both were bound to.
The room was silent save for the rustle of fabric and the faint crackle of the fireplace. Even in the most intimate of acts, there was a distance between them, a wall neither could bring themselves to break down.
Axel had removed his ceremonial coat, leaving him in a simple linen shirt and dark trousers. Despite the casualness of his attire, he looked as formidable as ever, his broad shoulders and sharply defined features a reminder of the soldier who had won countless battles. But here, in this room, he was not a war hero—just a man caught in the constraints of duty.
Lila sat at the edge of the grand four-poster bed, her back straight and her hands clasped tightly in her lap. Her robe hung loosely off her shoulders, the silk shimmering under the dim light, giving her an almost otherworldly presence. She looked untouchable, like a queen awaiting her coronation, though her eyes betrayed nothing but cool detachment.
"I didn't think you'd hesitate," she said, breaking the silence. Her voice was low, almost disinterested, as though she were commenting on the weather.
Axel turned to her from his place near the window, his jaw tightening. "I hesitate because I know neither of us wants this," he replied evenly.
Lila's lips curved into a faint, humorless smile. "How noble of you. Hesitation doesn't erase obligation, Your Grace."
He moved closer, his footsteps muted on the thick carpet. "You think I don't know that?" His tone was sharp, but not cruel. There was a flicker of something in his eyes—resentment, perhaps, but not directed at her.
He stared at her for a moment, as if searching for something in her eyes—fear, anger, perhaps even regret. But she gave him nothing.
"You're colder than I expected," he murmured, his voice low.
His jaw tightened again, and for a moment, neither of them moved. The air between them was taut, like a bowstring pulled to its limit. Finally, Axel exhaled a quiet sigh, his shoulders relaxing just slightly.
"Fine," he said simply. "Let's get this over with."
Lila's breath hitched imperceptibly as he reached for the belt of his shirt, pulling it loose in one smooth motion. He didn't rush, nor did he slow—his movements were methodical, almost clinical. He undid the buttons one by one, exposing the hard planes of his chest, marred with scars that spoke of battles fought and survived.
She didn't flinch, didn't turn away, though her fingers tightened around the fabric of her robe. "You're not exactly making this any easier," she said, her voice wavering slightly.
Axel glanced at her, his expression unreadable. "Was it supposed to be easy?"
When he stepped closer, she forced herself to hold her ground. He reached for the tie of her robe, pausing briefly, his fingers brushing against hers. "If you'd prefer to do this yourself—"
"Just do it," Lila interrupted, her voice firm.
He didn't hesitate this time. He pulled the tie loose, letting the silk fall open to reveal the delicate lace beneath. She stiffened but didn't pull away, even as his hands grazed her shoulders, sliding the robe down her arms.
The firelight danced across her skin, illuminating her in a way that made Axel pause for a heartbeat. She was beautiful, undeniably so, but it was a beauty cloaked in ice. She met his gaze head-on, daring him to look away.
"You're staring," she said, her tone biting.
"I'm looking," he corrected, his voice quieter now.
His hands were steady as he reached for her, but there was no tenderness in his touch—only a grim determination. When he pulled her closer, she let him, though her body remained rigid against his.
The act itself was devoid of passion, a mechanical fulfillment of an expectation neither of them wanted but both knew they couldn't escape. Lila closed her eyes, her mind wandering far from the room, while Axel kept his gaze fixed on her, his expression betraying nothing.
Axel's voice was low and steady as he spoke, breaking the tense silence that hung in the room. "It will hurt."
Lila's gaze lifted to meet his, her eyes unwavering. There was no fear in her expression, only cold resolve. "I've endured worse pain," she replied flatly, her tone devoid of emotion.
Her words hung in the air, heavier than the firelight that flickered across their faces. Axel's jaw tightened, the flicker of something unreadable crossing his features before he stepped closer to the bed. The weight of duty pressed on both of them, but the distance between them felt far greater than the mere steps he took.
"You don't have to pretend to be indifferent," Axel said quietly, his voice softer now, though his words carried an edge.
"And you don't have to pretend to care," Lila countered, her voice sharp but calm, a deflective shield she'd mastered over years of societal expectations and disappointment.
Axel paused, his hand resting against the back of the chair near the bedpost. The firelight carved shadows across his face, highlighting the sharp angles of his jaw and the set determination in his eyes. He exhaled through his nose, forcing himself to look away from her briefly, gathering the words that felt tangled in his throat.
Axel moved with deliberate force, his actions carrying the weight of inevitability. As their bodies connected, a sharp tension filled the space between them, the boundary of resistance giving way to the joining.
Both of them arched instinctively, their movements mirroring each other as they bridged the distance that had once separated them. Their bodies trembled in unison, caught between the contrasting sensations of discomfort and a growing intimacy.
Lila's face tightened with the strain, her breath hitching in response to the overwhelming experience, while Axel's own expression reflected a mix of restraint and resolve.