"Please, my lady," Mirelle whispered, clutching Princess Celestine's arm. "Don't go. If anyone catches you, the punishment—"
"I don't care," Celestine hissed, pulling her cloak tighter around her shoulders. Her emerald eyes flashed with determination. "I need to see him."
Mirelle bit her lip, her hands trembling as she released her hold. "At least take care. The guards—"
"I'll be fine," Celestine interrupted. She pushed the heavy door of her chambers open just enough to slip through. The cool air of the palace halls greeted her, as did the ever-present echo of boots patrolling the stone corridors.
With practiced ease, Celestine moved through the palace like a shadow. She paused at every corner, pressing herself against walls as the guards passed, their torches casting flickering light. Her heart pounded as one lingered for a moment too long, but the man eventually continued his rounds.
Releasing a shaky breath, she reached the tapestry at the end of the west wing. She swept it aside, revealing a small wooden door, half-rotten from neglect. Pulling it open, she stepped into the cool, damp tunnel beyond.
The air was heavy with earth, and the faint smell of mildew tickled her nose. She reached for the lantern hanging on a rusted hook and lit it, the flame casting dim, wavering light on the rough stone walls.
The path was familiar, yet each step felt heavier than the last. Finally, she emerged into the open air, the soft rustle of leaves overhead mingling with the distant chirp of crickets. There, standing with his back to her, was Leontis.
A surge of relief and longing overwhelmed her. She broke into a run, throwing her arms around him. "Leo!"
He stiffened at her touch, his body rigid under her embrace. Slowly, he pulled her arms away and turned to face her.
"Cel," he said, his voice low and careful. His face, illuminated by the weak light of her lantern, was as unreadable as ever.
"I didn't think you'd come," she said, gripping his hand tightly. "I thought Father would have eyes on you."
"I have my ways," he replied curtly.
She searched his face, her eyes tracing the familiar planes of his sharp features, lingering on the stormy gray of his eyes. "I've missed you," she whispered.
His expression didn't change.
"Why did you call me here?" he asked, his voice cold.
Her brow furrowed. "Do I need a reason to call you?"
He said nothing.
Her heart ached at his silence, but she pressed on. "I'm sure you've heard by now. My betrothal to Prince Kaelen." She spat the name as though it tasted bitter.
"I have," he said simply.
"Is that all you have to say?" she demanded, her voice rising.
He looked away, his jaw tightening.
"Leo," she said, stepping closer. "What do you want me to say?" he asked.
"That we should run away! That you'll fight for me! Anything!"
"We can't do that," he said, his voice as flat as before. "It would put Sylvaris and Tharavos on the brink of war."
"Seriously?" Her voice cracked with the weight of her emotions. "That's all you have to say? After everything we've been through?"
Still, he looked away, his silence louder than any words.
Her chest tightened, and tears burned her eyes. She turned, her heart splintering, and took a step to leave.
Before she could move farther, his hand shot out, grabbing her wrist. In an instant, he pulled her back and kissed her.
She froze, her body warring between surrender and resistance. For a moment, she leaned into him, the familiar warmth of his lips stirring memories of stolen moments and whispered promises. But then the pain returned, sharper than ever.
She bit his lip, hard enough to taste blood. He didn't flinch. Instead, he stopped kissing her, resting his forehead against hers.
For a fleeting second, hope stirred within her. Maybe he had changed his mind.
But then he stepped back.
Without a word, he turned and disappeared into the shadows.
Celestine stood there, the lantern trembling in her hand, tears slipping silently down her cheeks as she watched him leave.
---