The days grew colder as the threat of war loomed closer. Celestia stood by the window of her chambers, looking out over the sprawling gardens of Rochefort Manor. The skies were heavy with clouds, and the wind whispered ominously through the trees. It was as if nature itself reflected the turmoil in her heart. She had taken her first steps as the heir to House Rochefort, but the weight of the responsibility was starting to settle on her like a stone in her chest.
The war was inevitable. The kingdom was divided, and though her father's advisors insisted that the situation could still be salvaged, Celestia knew better. The borders had been breached by rebel forces, and the unrest in the eastern territories had already claimed lives. It was no longer a matter of if they would go to war—it was a matter of when.
But what terrified Celestia more than the thought of battle was the gnawing uncertainty about her place in all of this. She had always been a pawn in the hands of others—first her parents, then the kingdom. And now, she was supposed to lead.
"Lady Celestia, my lady?"
The soft voice pulled her from her thoughts. She turned to find her personal maid, Clara, standing in the doorway, holding a small tray of tea. Clara's expression was as gentle as ever, though Celestia could see the flicker of concern in her eyes.
"Is everything well?" Clara asked as she entered, placing the tray on the table beside Celestia.
Celestia forced a smile, but it didn't reach her eyes. "As well as it can be," she said quietly. "The kingdom is on the edge of war, and I'm expected to lead them. I never asked for this."
Clara nodded, her gaze softening. "But you're strong, my lady. You've always been strong. I know you'll do what's best for everyone."
"I don't know if I can," Celestia muttered, sitting down in front of the window again. "I've spent my life avoiding responsibility, avoiding becoming the person I'm supposed to be. I don't know how to change that overnight."
Clara sat beside her, handing her a cup of tea. "You don't have to change all at once, my lady. Take it one step at a time. You've already made a difference. The decisions you've made so far have been the right ones."
Celestia glanced at her maid, her heart heavy with doubt. Clara had always been a loyal friend, but Celestia knew that her own feelings—her own hesitations—were impossible to hide.
"I'm scared, Clara," Celestia confessed, her voice barely above a whisper. "What if I make the wrong choice? What if I lead my people into ruin? I don't know if I can live with that."
Clara smiled warmly, reaching over to place a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "You won't be alone, my lady. You have Prince Adrian. And you have all of us who believe in you."
Celestia's chest tightened at the mention of Adrian. He had been her constant support, standing by her through every decision, every doubt. And yet, as the pressure mounted, she felt herself pulling away from him. She didn't want to burden him with her fears. She didn't want him to see her falter.
"I don't want to be a burden," Celestia said, her voice strained. "Adrian has his own responsibilities. He doesn't need me weighing him down with mine."
Clara's eyes softened with understanding. "Adrian loves you, my lady. He's not going anywhere. And he would never see you as a burden."
Celestia turned her gaze back to the window, watching as the wind blew through the trees. Clara's words, though comforting, couldn't quell the storm brewing inside her. It wasn't just the war that terrified her—it was her own heart. She had spent so long pretending to be the villainess, hiding behind the icy walls she had built, that now, when someone truly cared for her, she didn't know how to accept it.
She didn't know if she was ready to love.
A Moment of Weakness
Later that evening, Celestia made her way to the war room, where Adrian was waiting for her. The air in the manor felt thick with tension, the servants moving quietly as if afraid to disturb the heavy atmosphere. As she walked into the room, she found Adrian pouring over documents with his usual focus, but when he looked up and saw her, his face softened.
"Celestia," he said, his voice low and gentle. "You're here."
"I'm sorry I'm late," she said, her voice tight as she tried to mask the turmoil inside her.
"No need to apologize," Adrian said, standing up and walking toward her. "I'm just glad you're here."
He reached for her hand, but Celestia pulled away almost instinctively. Adrian frowned, a flicker of confusion crossing his face. She could feel his concern, but she wasn't sure she could bear it. Not now.
"I... I don't know if I can do this, Adrian," she confessed, her voice trembling. "I don't know if I'm cut out for this role, this responsibility. I've spent my whole life trying to be someone I'm not, trying to escape who I really am. And now, I'm supposed to lead a kingdom into war? I don't know what I'm doing."
Adrian stepped closer, his gaze steady and unwavering. "You don't have to have all the answers right now, Celestia. You just have to trust yourself. You've already proven that you can make the right decisions. And I'll be here to help you every step of the way."
His words should have reassured her, but instead, they made her feel even more vulnerable. She could feel the weight of his expectations, his faith in her, and she wasn't sure she could live up to it. She had always been the one to keep others at a distance—to push them away before they could get too close. But Adrian... he was different. He saw something in her that no one else ever had, and the fear of disappointing him, of failing him, was like a heavy anchor around her heart.
"I don't want to let you down," Celestia whispered, her eyes dropping to the floor. "I don't want to be the cause of more pain, more bloodshed."
Adrian's expression softened, and he reached out to gently lift her chin, forcing her to meet his gaze. "Celestia," he said, his voice low and sincere, "I believe in you. You don't have to do this alone. You have me, and you have everyone who cares about you. You're not the villainess you once thought you were. You're so much more than that."
The sincerity in his words pierced through her defenses, and Celestia felt her heart break open, the walls she had spent so long building beginning to crumble. But even as the desire to let go of her fears swirled within her, doubt lingered at the edge of her mind.
Could she truly allow herself to be vulnerable? Could she accept the love Adrian offered without fear?
The First Battle
The next day, as Celestia stood on the balcony overlooking the courtyard, she knew that the time for decisions had come. The army was ready, and the first wave of soldiers was preparing to march toward the eastern border. It was no longer a question of if the war would come, but how they would face it.
Adrian stood beside her, his posture strong and confident, as if the weight of the world didn't rest on his shoulders. Celestia envied him in that moment—the way he seemed so sure of his place in the world, so certain of his decisions.
But she couldn't afford to dwell on envy. She had a role to play, a duty to fulfill.
"I'm ready," Celestia said, though her voice was filled with uncertainty. "Let's end this before more lives are lost."
Adrian looked at her, his expression softening. "Together."
She nodded, feeling a sense of resolve settle in her chest. No matter the uncertainty, no matter the fear, she would face this challenge head-on. And with Adrian at her side, perhaps—just perhaps—she could find the courage to lead, to love, and to finally become the woman she was always meant to be.