Becoming a general wasn't something I had planned for, yet here I was, standing at the precipice of power. My mother, the Lyric of our people, had pulled strings, maneuvered alliances, and made decisions in ways I could never fully understand. She was powerful—immensely so—but power came with its own burdens.
Clearing Seraphina's name had been part of her grand scheme, although she had done so at my request. The thought of Sera hiding in the shadows, running from accusations, and forced to live in fear had gnawed at me. So, I had begged my mother for mercy, for justice. To my surprise, she'd complied, but not without consequence.
Now, she had elevated me to a position of power I didn't feel ready for—General of our people. It was a title that came with expectations, commands, and a lot of resistance. Many saw me as too young, too inexperienced, but my mother had her reasons. And those reasons, I feared, extended beyond the good of the kingdom.
The whispers of overthrowing her had begun to fester in the back of my mind. For years, I had resented the way she ruled, so carefully controlling everything, everyone. Even me. The truth that I'd run away from years ago now seemed almost laughable. I had thought I was free, but all along, she had known exactly where I was, watching, waiting. She let me run, allowed me the illusion of choice, all while holding the reins tightly.
Still, the idea of rebellion lingered, fueled by the resentment of those around me, those who felt the weight of my mother's rule. But deep down, I knew that Seraphina wouldn't approve. She was always level-headed, always able to see reason. And so, I pushed the thoughts of rebellion to the back of my mind as I read her letter.
Her words were soft, thoughtful, and though it had only been a short while since we last spoke, I felt a pull to see her. Without hesitation, I made the decision to visit her.
When I arrived at her estate, I was struck by how much had changed. The grand house, her new title—it suited her in ways that I couldn't describe. She was a Duchess now, but to me, she was still Sera, the girl I had known, the woman I had watched grow into someone extraordinary.
She greeted me warmly, though I could sense the weight of the past weeks in her eyes. We walked through her gardens, the sun casting a golden light over us as we spoke.
"I heard about your mother," she said, breaking the silence as we strolled. "Clearing my name—thank you. I know you had a hand in that."
I nodded, unsure of how to approach the real reason I had come. "It was the least I could do, Sera. You didn't deserve any of that."
A pause lingered between us, and I took a deep breath. "But there's something else. I've been thinking... about my mother, about her control. She's the Lyric, yes, but I think it's time for a change. I've been considering overthrowing her."
Sera stopped abruptly, turning to face me with wide eyes. "What?" she asked, her voice laced with concern. "You're serious?"
I nodded, though her reaction made me hesitate. "She's ruled for too long. The people are restless. And I—"
"Dragonir, no." She cut me off, stepping closer. "This is dangerous, incredibly dangerous. Do you know what would happen if you tried to overthrow your mother? Especially her? You'd be putting yourself at immense risk. And don't forget—the dynamics of power here are... different. Men don't hold as much sway as women in our society. You're walking into a trap if you pursue this."
Her words were like a bucket of cold water, dousing the embers of rebellion in my heart. She was right. Of course, she was. I could see it in her eyes, the concern she had for me, the way her brow furrowed as she tried to make me understand.
"I hadn't thought of it that way," I admitted, rubbing the back of my neck. "But you're right. I'd be a fool to try."
She relaxed slightly, her posture softening. "I just don't want you to get hurt, Dragonir. Your mother is powerful, and taking her on… it's not something you should do alone. And even then…"
I nodded, the weight of her advice settling in my chest. "I'll drop it. You're right, Sera. I don't need to make things worse."
We continued walking, the tension easing as we talked about lighter things—our shared memories, her new responsibilities, the lands she now ruled over. But then, curiosity tugged at her.
"Why didn't you ever tell me you were a prince?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.
I chuckled softly, though the question hit a little too close to home. "I ran away. Thought I could escape that life. But it turns out, my mother let me go. She kept tabs on me the whole time, making sure I was safe but also making sure I never really got away from her."
Sera's eyes widened slightly, marveling at the irony. "I didn't know. That's… intense."
"It is," I said, glancing down at the wings I had grown over the past few years. They were larger now, more developed, and I saw her gaze linger on them. "I guess I've changed a lot since you last saw me."
Her fingers brushed lightly over one of my wings, a look of awe crossing her face. "You've grown these… they're magnificent, Dragonir. I can't believe how much you've changed."
I smiled, feeling the warmth of her admiration. "Yeah, I finished schooling not long ago. And now… well, now I'm training to become General."
"General?" Her eyebrows shot up. "That's quite a leap."
"It is. But it's what's expected of me now," I replied, the weight of the title settling on my shoulders once again.
Sera looked at me thoughtfully, her expression soft. I could see the pride in her eyes, but there was something more—a hesitation, perhaps? A barrier between us that hadn't been there before.
I took a deep breath, the words tumbling out before I could stop them. "Sera, there's something I've been meaning to tell you. Something I've been thinking about for a long time."
She looked at me, her gaze steady and attentive, and my heart began to race.
"All this time, through everything that's happened… I haven't been able to stop thinking about you. About us." I paused, trying to gather my thoughts. "I love you, Seraphina."
The words hung in the air, heavy and raw. I had imagined this moment so many times, but now that it was here, it felt surreal.
Seraphina didn't react as I had expected. Her face remained calm, almost unreadable. After a long silence, she spoke softly. "I need time to think about it."
I nodded, trying to hide the sting of her response, though I was sure it showed in my eyes. "Of course. Take all the time you need."
She smiled, a little sadly, before we continued our walk in silence. My confession lay between us, unresolved, and yet I knew that I couldn't take it back. I had said what was in my heart, and now it was up to her to decide.