The rest of the walk felt like a dream—our conversations drifting in and out, the words exchanged lighter than before, but beneath it all, I knew we both felt the weight of what I had confessed. The air between us had changed, thick with unspoken thoughts and unshed emotions. I tried to push it aside, focusing on the beauty of her estate, the vibrant colors of her garden, but my mind kept circling back to her.
Sera, with her calm composure, always had that effect on me. She had a way of making the world feel steady, even when everything inside me felt like it was spinning out of control. Now, though, I wasn't sure where I stood. My feelings for her had been simmering beneath the surface for so long that saying them aloud felt like stepping off a cliff into the unknown. And now that I had, I wasn't sure if she would catch me.
We paused at the edge of the garden, where a marble bench sat beneath an old willow tree. Sera sat down, her long dress flowing like water over the stone as she gestured for me to sit beside her. I did, though the silence that followed felt more like a chasm than the peaceful stillness we used to share.
"I've thought about us too, you know," she finally said, her voice barely above a whisper. Her fingers traced the pattern of the leaves etched into the bench's armrest, as if she was searching for the right words in their delicate lines.
I turned to her, my heart pounding. "You have?"
She nodded, though her gaze remained on the ground, her eyes far away. "You and I, Dragonir… we've been through so much together. You've always been someone I could count on. But now, things are different. I've changed, you've changed. My life has become… complicated."
I didn't know what to say, so I waited, watching her closely as she continued to wrestle with her thoughts.
"You're the prince," she said quietly, as if reminding herself. "And I'm a Duchess. Our lives are so entangled with politics, with the roles we have to play. If we were just… us, maybe things would be easier."
"But we are us," I said, leaning closer, desperate to close the gap between us. "Sera, I don't care about the titles, the politics. I care about you. Just you."
She looked up then, her eyes locking onto mine, and for a moment, I saw the conflict there—the part of her that wanted to believe in what we had, and the part that understood the reality of the world we lived in.
"I don't know if it's that simple," she whispered. "You're becoming a general now. Your mother—she's going to use you, Dragonir. She'll put you in situations you can't walk away from, and being with me… it might make things even harder for you."
"I can handle it," I said quickly, though even as I said the words, I wasn't entirely sure. My mother had a way of twisting things to her advantage, and I knew Sera was right to be cautious. But still, I didn't want to lose her before we even had a chance.
Sera smiled, but it didn't reach her eyes. "You've always been brave. But sometimes… sometimes bravery isn't enough."
Her words sank into me, and I felt the sting of reality settling in. She was right—our world wasn't a fairytale, and no amount of love or determination could erase the complexities of our positions. But I couldn't shake the feeling that if we didn't at least try, we'd regret it for the rest of our lives.
Before I could respond, Sera reached out and took my hand in hers, squeezing it gently. "I need time, Dragonir. I need to figure out where I stand in all of this—who I am now that my life has changed so much. Please understand."
I nodded, my throat tight. "I understand."
She stood then, pulling me to my feet with her. "No matter what happens, I'll always care about you. You've been my closest friend, my confidant. That won't change, no matter what else does."
I wanted to say more, to fight for her, to make her see that we could make this work. But I knew that pushing her now would only drive her further away. So instead, I held her gaze, trying to convey everything I felt in the silence that stretched between us.
"Take care of yourself, Dragonir," she said softly before stepping back, her hand slipping from mine. "And be careful. The path you're on now… it's not an easy one."
"I will," I promised, though the words felt hollow. Without her by my side, the path ahead seemed darker, more uncertain than ever.
As I walked away from her estate, the sun dipping below the horizon, I couldn't shake the feeling that I had just lost something precious. Or perhaps, I thought bitterly, I had never really had it to begin with.