The next morning dawned bright and early, and Leorick was already riding toward the Everhart estate, the invitation to spend time with Seraphine igniting an unexpected flicker of anticipation within him. Their last conversation, the proposal beneath the stars, had gone better than he had dared hope. There was a new warmth in Seraphine's eyes, a quiet softness that he hadn't known before, and he found himself eager to know her better—to understand the woman who had become so much more than he had once imagined.
When he arrived at the estate, Lady Elowen greeted him warmly at the door, offering the sort of knowing smile that only a mother could. "She's waiting for you in the garden, Your Majesty. She's been there all morning," she said, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
Leorick nodded his thanks, his heart picking up its pace as he made his way through the house, eventually stepping out into the gardens. He found her near the edge of the estate grounds, beneath a canopy of wisteria that dappled the light in shades of lavender and green. Seraphine was dressed in a simple gown, the pale color of dawn, her face serene as she turned at his approach.
"Good morning, Leorick," she said softly, her gaze meeting his. "Thank you for coming."
"There's nowhere else I'd rather be," he replied, surprising himself with the sincerity in his tone. She gave him a gentle smile, a hint of mischief sparkling in her eyes.
"Good, because I thought we could spend today learning a little more about each other," she said, gesturing toward a stone bench tucked into a quiet corner of the garden. "Before we begin… there's something I wanted to ask you. I feel that, before tomorrow, there are questions we should both answer."
A prickle of unease traced down his spine. Something in her gaze seemed deeper, sharper, as though she were peering into the shadows of his past. "I'm ready to answer anything you ask, Seraphine."
They seated themselves, and for a moment, the only sound was the gentle rustling of leaves around them. Finally, Seraphine looked up, her expression thoughtful. "Leorick… when you spoke of making things right, of starting over with me… you mentioned that there was a past life between us." She paused, searching his face. "Will you tell me about it? What was I to you, then?"
Leorick drew a steadying breath, his hands tightening briefly in his lap. "You were… my wife," he admitted, the words heavier than he'd expected. "I took you as my queen, but… I was too blind to see what was in front of me. I saw you as a symbol, a figure to fulfill a duty, not a person with hopes and dreams. And because of that, you suffered." He looked away, unable to bear the pain that flickered in her gaze. "I failed you, Seraphine. I allowed my pride, my responsibilities, to come before your happiness. It was a marriage in name alone, a union with no heart."
She listened intently, her expression unreadable. "And this past version of me… what happened to her? Did she ever forgive you?"
The question struck him deeply, and he struggled for a moment, words caught in his throat. "I don't know," he admitted at last, his voice hoarse. "By the time I realized the depths of my mistakes, it was too late. She was gone, taken by the years of neglect and loneliness I had condemned her to. I have often wondered if she… if she could have ever forgiven me. But I'll never know."
A silence settled between them, heavy with memories that belonged to both of them—and yet, not to her. Seraphine watched him, her expression softening, though her gaze remained steady. "If she could forgive you, do you think it would have given you peace?"
He swallowed, meeting her eyes. "I believe so," he said quietly. "Her forgiveness… it would have meant a chance to mend what I had broken, to show her the respect and kindness she deserved. But without it, I carried a burden, one that haunted me even beyond death." He took a shaky breath. "And yet, Seraphine… I must ask you. If you were her—if you had suffered in such a way—would you still forgive me, even if it was too late?"
The question hung in the air between them, each word weighted with regret, vulnerability, and an unspoken hope. Seraphine's gaze softened, a faint shimmer of sadness in her eyes as she considered his words. "I… I don't know," she replied at last, her voice trembling. "The pain she felt… it must have been immense. To be unseen, unappreciated by the one who vowed to stand by her side… such hurt isn't easy to forgive." She paused, her gaze steady. "But if there was an effort to change, a chance to mend that hurt, I think… I would want to try."
Her words struck him to the core. He felt a tightness in his chest, a mix of relief and heartache, and he found himself unable to speak. Instead, he simply looked at her, his gaze filled with gratitude he could not express.
Seraphine leaned closer, reaching out to place her hand over his. "Leorick, I know you carry that guilt, that longing to undo what cannot be undone. But we have a chance now—a chance to make different choices, to treat each other with kindness and understanding." Her voice softened, almost a whisper. "I want to know you, truly, and I want you to know me. I don't need you to be perfect… just honest."
He closed his hand over hers, savoring the warmth of her touch. "Thank you, Seraphine," he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. "For giving me a chance to try, even when I don't deserve it."
They sat together in silence, both lost in thought. A soft breeze rustled through the garden, carrying with it the scent of wisteria and fresh earth. For the first time, Leorick felt a sense of peace, as if the weight of his past had lessened, even if only slightly.
After a long pause, Seraphine glanced at him with a small, teasing smile. "Since today is about getting to know each other, I think it's only fair I ask… what is something about you that you think no one knows?"
Leorick chuckled, a bit of the tension easing from his shoulders. "A dangerous question," he replied, though his smile was genuine. "But let's see… I suppose few would believe that I once dreamt of being a musician, of all things."
Seraphine's eyes lit up with amusement. "Truly? The king himself, aspiring to be a musician?"
"Not just any musician," he said, a laugh slipping out. "I wanted to play the lute, though I was told my fingers were far too clumsy for such delicate work."
She laughed, the sound bright and joyful. "And here I thought I knew everything there was to know about the stoic King Leorick." Her expression softened, a playful glint in her eyes. "Perhaps you'll play for me one day?"
He looked at her, heart warmed by her laughter. "If you're willing to bear the suffering of my clumsy attempts, then I'd be honored to play for you."
They shared a warm, easy silence, the weight of their earlier conversation lifted as they exchanged stories, small moments of laughter, and honest confessions. He learned that Seraphine had a penchant for sneaking sweets from the kitchen when she was younger, much to her mother's chagrin. She told him of her favorite books, her dreams of adventure beyond the palace, and her love of music and dance. And with each word, each laugh, he felt that invisible wall between them begin to dissolve.
The sun dipped lower in the sky, casting a golden glow over the garden as the hours slipped by unnoticed. By the time they finally stood to part, Leorick felt an unspoken understanding, a closeness he hadn't expected to find. Their hands lingered together for a moment, and he looked into her eyes, feeling a quiet, hopeful certainty.
"Thank you, Seraphine," he said, his voice soft, filled with a sincerity he hadn't felt in years. "For giving me a chance to know you. And for letting me try."
She smiled, a gentle warmth radiating from her. "Tomorrow," she said, her tone filled with quiet resolve, "we start anew. Not as king and queen bound by duty, but as two people… bound by choice."
Leorick watched her as she turned to leave, her figure framed by the fading sunlight. And as she disappeared down the path, he felt a rare sense of hope blooming within him—a fragile, yet undeniable faith that this time, they could build something beautiful together.