The words hung heavy in the air long after Seraphina stopped speaking. I tried to focus, tried to listen as she shared Dragonir's confession with me, but something inside me snapped the moment his name left her lips. The way she spoke about him, the way her eyes softened when she recounted his words—it tore me apart.
I nodded along, pretending to listen as she went on about how she had declined him for now, her voice tinged with regret. She said it was because of politics, that things were too delicate at the moment. But it didn't matter. I knew what she wasn't saying—she cared about him, maybe even loved him. And the worst part was, I couldn't blame her. Dragonir was magnetic. He always had been.
By the time she finished, my chest felt tight, like the walls were closing in. I stood up quickly, the movement jerky, betraying my sudden urge to escape. "I need some air," I muttered, barely glancing at her. I could feel Seraphina's eyes on me, concerned, but I didn't give her time to ask if I was okay. I couldn't bear to hear her voice right now, not after everything.
Pushing open the door to the study, I stepped into the cool hallway, my heart pounding in my ears. Each step felt heavier than the last as I made my way through the grand corridors of the estate. It had been months since we had to hide, but sometimes it still felt like I was trapped, like all the choices we made were suffocating us. And now, hearing about Dragonir, knowing that Seraphina was the one he'd chosen, it was all too much.
The jealousy gnawed at me, twisting in my gut with every step I took. I couldn't stay in that room, pretending I didn't feel anything. Seraphina was my closest friend, had been for years, but there were things I could never tell her—things like the fact that I had been in love with Dragonir since we were children.
But what would that change now? Seraphina hadn't known, and I couldn't fault her for her feelings. Besides, even if I did confess, it wouldn't matter. Dragonir loved her, not me.
I found myself standing at the front entrance of the estate, the large wooden doors looming before me. Without thinking, I pushed them open and stepped outside. The cold evening air hit my face, a welcome shock to the swirling storm of emotions inside me.
I needed to get out of here, needed to clear my head. And somehow, without fully realizing it, my feet carried me toward Dragonir's estate. I hadn't planned on visiting him, hadn't even thought it through, but now that I was walking, I couldn't stop myself.
The path wound through the lush forests that separated our lands, the shadows of the tall trees creating a canopy above me. The sounds of nature were all around—crickets chirping, leaves rustling in the breeze—but none of it calmed me. My mind kept spinning back to Seraphina's words, to the way she had spoken about Dragonir, to the way he must have looked at her when he told her he loved her. My stomach twisted with each thought.
When I finally reached Dragonir's estate, I paused, standing at the edge of the courtyard. His home was large, though not ostentatious. It had an air of authority about it, much like Dragonir himself. The dark stone walls stood tall against the night, illuminated by the faint glow of lanterns lining the path. I hadn't been here in a while—not since before everything had changed between us.
I hesitated, my hand hovering over the iron gate. What was I even doing here? What was I going to say to him? I didn't know. I just needed to see him, needed to make sense of the tangled mess of emotions inside me.
Taking a deep breath, I pushed open the gate and made my way up the path. The faint sound of footsteps from inside the house grew louder as I neared the door, and my heart leaped into my throat. Before I could second-guess myself, I knocked.
Moments later, the door opened, revealing Dragonir. His tall, imposing figure filled the doorway, his wings barely visible in the dim light behind him. He looked surprised to see me but not unwelcoming.
"Gwen?" His voice was warm, though there was a hint of confusion in his tone. "What are you doing here?"
I opened my mouth to speak, but for a moment, no words came. All the emotions I had been holding back, all the jealousy, the anger, the confusion—it swelled up inside me like a tidal wave. But I forced it down, hiding the turmoil behind a smile that felt too tight. "I needed to get out for a bit, thought I'd drop by."
He stepped aside, motioning for me to enter. "Of course, come in."
I walked past him into the foyer, the familiar scent of polished wood and old books filling the air. The estate was quiet, save for the crackling of a fire in the next room. I had always liked it here—there was something peaceful about Dragonir's home. But tonight, I felt anything but peace.
We made our way to the sitting room, the fire casting flickering shadows on the stone walls. Dragonir sat across from me, his brow furrowed slightly as he studied my face.
"You seem… off," he said after a moment, his voice laced with concern. "Is everything alright?"
I swallowed hard, trying to keep my composure. I couldn't tell him the truth, not the whole truth anyway. Not about Seraphina, not about how hearing that he loved her had shattered something inside me. Instead, I offered a half-truth. "It's just… everything that's happened. The running for Heir Apparent, the hiding, the constant tension. It's wearing on me."
He nodded, his expression softening. "I understand. It's been difficult for all of us."
For a few minutes, we talked about the past, about how close Seraphina had come to becoming the Heir Apparent, only to lose by a fraction. We spoke of how Eleri had suddenly reappeared, throwing our carefully laid plans into chaos by pretending to be Seraphina's advisor and telling the Queen of Orphic about the arrest warrant.
"I still can't believe it," I said, shaking my head. "We were so close, and then Eleri shows up, and suddenly everything we worked for was gone. And now Seraphina's a duchess, just like that."
Dragonir frowned, leaning back in his chair. "Eleri always had a way of twisting things in her favor. I'm surprised she got away with it for as long as she did."
"Me too," I muttered, feeling a surge of frustration at the memory of Eleri's smug face. "But what's done is done. At least we don't have to hide anymore."
Dragonir's eyes met mine, and for a moment, I thought I saw something flicker in his gaze. Something more than just concern. But it was gone as quickly as it appeared, replaced by the familiar warmth I had always found comforting.
We fell into a companionable silence, the fire crackling softly between us. But my thoughts kept drifting back to Seraphina's words, to the confession Dragonir had made to her. I couldn't hold it in any longer. I had to know.
"Dragonir," I began, my voice hesitant. "Seraphina told me about your confession. About… about what you said to her."
His eyes widened slightly, and I could see the tension in his shoulders. "She told you?"
I nodded, feeling a lump form in my throat. "She said she declined for now, because of politics. But I could tell… I could tell that she cares about you. A lot."
Dragonir didn't say anything at first, his gaze dropping to the fire. The silence stretched between us, thick and heavy, until finally, he spoke.
"I do care about her," he admitted quietly. "I've cared about her for a long time."
His words hit me like a punch to the gut, and I had to fight to keep my emotions in check. Of course, he cared about her. I had known that for years. But hearing him say it out loud, so plainly, made it all the more real.
"I see," I whispered, my voice barely audible.
Dragonir looked up at me then, his eyes filled with something I couldn't quite place. Regret, maybe? Or was it something else? Whatever it was, it made my heart ache even more.
"But Gwen," he continued, his voice softening. "That doesn't mean I don't care about you too. You've always been important to me. You're one of my closest friends."
The word friends felt like a dagger in my chest, twisting deeper with every breath I took. Just friends. That's all I had ever been to him. And that's all I ever would be.
I forced a smile, though it felt hollow. "I know, Dragonir. I know."
We sat in silence for a while after that, the weight of unspoken words hanging between us. My mind was a whirlwind of emotions—jealousy, anger, sadness—but I couldn't let any of it show. Not to him. Not now.
Eventually, I stood up, needing to put some distance between us before I completely broke down. "I should go," I said, my voice strained.
Dragonir looked up at me, his brow furrowed. "Are you
sure? You don't have to leave."
"I need some time," I replied, offering him another tight smile. "But thank you. For everything."
He nodded, though I could see the confusion in his eyes. But he didn't push, didn't ask any more questions. And for that, I was grateful.
I left his estate in a daze, my heart aching with every step I took. The night air was cool against my skin, but it did little to soothe the storm of emotions raging inside me.
As I walked back home, the weight of everything pressed down on me—Seraphina's words, Dragonir's confession, the realization that I would never be more than just a friend to him.
And as much as I wanted to be angry at Seraphina, as much as I wanted to blame her for all of this, I couldn't. She had done nothing wrong. She hadn't known how I felt. None of this was her fault.
But that didn't make it hurt any less.
By the time I reached my estate, the sky was beginning to lighten, the first hints of dawn peeking over the horizon. I stood there for a moment, staring up at the fading stars, wondering how things had gotten so complicated.
And wondering if they would ever be the same again.