Nila shook her head, a tear slipping down her cheek, but she quickly wiped it away, her lips pressing into a thin line. For a long moment, the silence between them was heavy, suffocating. Then, slowly, she spoke, her voice quiet but resolute.
"I'll give you one month," she said, her eyes locking onto his with a fierceness that left no room for doubt. "One month to prove to me that I can trust you again. If you can't… you'll set me free. You'll not return me to my father's hands. You'll let me go."
Cyrus's breath caught in his throat as her words sank in. One month. It wasn't much time, but it was more than he had hoped for. More than he deserved. But then she continued, her voice softening, a hint of vulnerability creeping into her tone.
"And if you can," she whispered, "if you can make me believe in you again… then you can have me. Forever. Until death do us part."
Her words sent a shockwave through him, his heart pounding with a mixture of hope and fear. He stared at her, his chest tightening as he took in the weight of her offer. This was it—his chance to make things right.
"Nila…" he whispered, his voice trembling with emotion. "I will prove it to you. I swear, I will."
She didn't respond, didn't acknowledge the depth of his promise. Instead, she turned her back to him once again, her arms wrapping around herself as though trying to hold herself together. But this time, she didn't flee. This time, she stayed.
And for Cyrus, that was enough for now.
''You need to rest, let me take you to your room,'' Cyrus spoke his eyes softening, she turned to look at him.
That's when Nila noticed how this man wasn't completely dressed, he was sweating. Could running such a small distance work up so much sweat? she wondered as she watched sweat glide down his abs.
Cyrus noticed Nila's stare, and his face flushed a little. "Nila?" he called her softly again.
Nila blinked as her eyes flicked back to his face, quickly looking away, cheeks warming at the realization of what she had been staring at. She stiffened, forcing herself to remember the bitterness that had settled in her chest, the anger that still simmered beneath the surface.
Cyrus took a slow step closer, not wanting to overwhelm her, but desperate to close the emotional gap between them. "You need rest, Nila. Please, let me take you to your room," he repeated.
Nila hesitated, her lips pressed into a thin line. The idea of being alone with him again, in the stillness of the palace halls, made her stomach twist with emotions she wasn't ready to face. Yet, as much as she wanted to remain angry, her body was weary from the weight of her heartache. She needed a moment to breathe, to think.
She finally nodded, though it was stiff and reluctant. "Fine," she muttered, keeping her voice steady. "But don't think this means I've forgiven you."
"I wouldn't expect it so soon," he said softly, relief evident in his voice as he gently guided her toward the corridor that led to her chambers.
The palace was quiet now, all the staff hiding away in their rooms per Cyrus's earlier order. It made the air feel still, heavy with the tension between them, but also with a strange kind of peace. The soft clinking of their footsteps echoed against the marble floors, and for a moment, the only sound in the world was the two of them walking side by side.
Nila kept her arms folded across her chest, her gaze averted. She didn't want to look at him, not when she felt so vulnerable, so raw. She hated that her heart fluttered in his presence, that even now, after everything, her body betrayed her, yearning for the comfort only he could give.
When they reached her door, Cyrus stopped, his hand hovering just above the handle. He turned to her, his expression tentative. "I'll wait outside while you rest," he offered. "If you need anything, I'll be here."
Nila stared at him for a moment, her lips parting slightly as if to say something. But instead, she just nodded, stepping into her room without a word. She closed the door softly behind her and leaned against it, her heart pounding as she tried to gather her thoughts. Everything felt too much, too fast.
She wanted to be angry, to hate him, but there was a small, persistent ache in her chest that longed for the man she had fallen in love with, the man who, for all his faults, was still standing outside that door, willing to do anything to make things right.
The next morning, Nila woke with the light of the dawn peeking through her curtains. She blinked, disoriented for a moment before the memories of the previous night came rushing back. Her heart tightened, and she groaned, burying her face in her hands. She couldn't keep living in this limbo, between loving and hating him. But she didn't know how to push him away when part of her didn't want to.
She had removed the tight clothing that pressed too hard on her chest and finally settled into a nightgown last night. She didn't need anything more to add to the tightness she was emotionally already experiencing.
There was a soft knock on her door, and she stiffened, wondering who it could be. She sat up, straightening her gown and taking a deep breath before she called out, "Come in."
The door creaked open, and there he stood, looking slightly more composed than the night before. He was dressed now, though his hair still held that familiar tousled look that made him seem more like Sol, the man she used to know.
"Good morning," he said quietly, holding a tray in his hands. Nila raised an eyebrow at the sight. "I thought you might like breakfast," he added, stepping inside and placing the tray on a small table near the window. It was simple, fruit, fresh bread, and a steaming cup of tea but there was something intimate about the gesture that made her heartache.
Breakfast in Selene was different from Navaria she thought to herself, the Navraian cuisine had more flavour and spice to it.
"You… you brought me breakfast?" she asked, unable to hide her surprise.
Cyrus shrugged, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "I wanted to start the day off right. I know it's not much, but…" He trailed off, his eyes searching hers for any sign of forgiveness. But Nila remained silent, unsure how to respond. Her heart was conflicted, part of her wanted to accept the kindness, while the other part wanted to hold on to her anger.
But she couldn't resist food, could she?
He glanced at her again before sitting down across from her, leaving space between them. He didn't push, didn't try to force a conversation. Instead, he waited, allowing her to eat in silence.
Nila bit into a piece of bread, and despite herself, she smiled slightly at the taste. She hadn't realized how hungry she was, how the stress of everything had made her forget even the basics like eating. She kept her eyes on the plate, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of seeing her smile.
As she nibbled at the fruit, Cyrus cleared his throat softly. "I know I have a long way to go," he began, his voice careful. "But I want to start with something small. I want to take you outside today. There's a garden not far from here. It's… well, it's quiet. I thought maybe you'd like to go for a walk."
Nila set the piece of fruit down, her hands trembling slightly. She didn't look at him but stared out the window. A walk? In the garden? Part of her was tempted.
This was all part of his plan, wasn't it? To win her back with sweet gestures and thoughtful moments. And yet, it was working, wasn't it? Her heart was already starting to soften, even if she didn't want to admit it.
After a long silence, she finally spoke. "You think a walk in the garden will make me forget everything?" she asked, her voice sharp.
Cyrus shook his head quickly, looking flustered. "No, Nila, of course not. I don't expect you to forget anything. I just thought… you might like some air."
Nila's gaze flicked to him, and for the first time that morning, she met his eyes. She could see the genuine sincerity in them, the hope mixed with fear. He was trying. He was trying so hard. And as much as she wanted to hold on to her anger, she couldn't deny that he was doing what he could to make things right.
"Fine," she muttered, standing up abruptly. "But don't think this means I'm forgiving you."
Cyrus stood as well, a cautious smile tugging at his lips. "Of course. I wouldn't dream of assuming that."