They walk for what feels like hours, the silence between them growing heavier with each step.
Neither Arthur nor Madin knows what to say, and the weight of the night's events hangs thick in the air.
Arthur's mind drifts far from the deserted path they tread, consumed by an endless storm of doubts.
He wonders if he's lost all sense of reason, if he's allowing this strange and overpowering emotion called love to lead him astray.
The Arthur of a month ago would have scoffed at the idea. The dutiful prince, groomed from birth to rule, now fleeing his home, his family, and his future—for what? For someone who had lied to him, deceived him, and yet somehow claimed his heart completely.
"What am I doing?" Arthur mutters under his breath, barely audible. His grip tightens on the discarded guard uniform he carries, the coarse fabric feeling heavier than it should.
He knows he could turn back. Right now, if he chose, he could return to the palace, face his father, and beg for forgiveness. The throne would still be his, his dreams of being king still intact. He could have everything he's ever worked for—everything that's been expected of him.
But his heart won't let him. Every time he pictures a future without Madin, a hollow ache spreads through him, as if he's cutting out a piece of his own soul.
"Damn it," Arthur mutters, running a hand through his hair in frustration. He can't reconcile the two parts of himself—the prince who has everything to lose and the man who just wants to hold onto the person walking silently beside him.
Madin, meanwhile, keeps his eyes fixed on the uneven path ahead, his thoughts as turbulent as Arthur's. He feels like a ghost, moving automatically, his feet carrying him wherever Arthur leads.
He should be relieved, even grateful. For the first time in what feels like forever, he's free—free of the dungeon, free of the suffocating fear of death. But guilt gnaws at him with every step he takes.
This is his fault. All of it.
Arthur's life has been turned upside down because of him. His future as king, the role he's dreamed of and prepared for, now seems uncertain. Every time Madin remembers how passionately Arthur spoke of his ambitions when they were alone together—how his eyes lit up when he talked about the good he wanted to do for the kingdom—Madin feels like a stone is lodged in his chest.
How could he be the reason Arthur might lose all of that?
"Stop ," Madin whispers to himself, his voice too quiet for Arthur to hear. But the guilt doesn't stop.
Arthur's voice finally cuts through the silence, pulling Madin out of his thoughts. "I think we're at a safe distance now. We should take off these uniforms."
Madin blinks and looks around. The narrow, overgrown path they've been following opens up into a small clearing. The night air is cool, and the faint rustle of leaves in the wind is the only sound apart from their footsteps.
Arthur removes his guard uniform first, folding it neatly and tucking it under his arm. Madin hesitates before following suit. The disguise feels like a second skin now, a thin barrier between him and the danger they've left behind. But he doesn't argue.
Once the uniforms are off, Arthur glances back at the road ahead. They've been walking abandoned paths, avoiding the main roads that might lead to towns or villages. He doesn't know where they're going—he doesn't care, not really. The world is vast, and somewhere out there, they'll find a place where they can just exist together.
"Are you okay? Tired?" Arthur asks, his tone soft. It's the first time he's addressed Madin directly since they escaped.
"I'm fine," Madin replies, his voice flat. He keeps his gaze on the ground, unwilling to meet Arthur's eyes.
Arthur doesn't push him. He knows they both have too much on their minds, too much they can't yet put into words. The silence stretches between them again, but this time, it feels heavier—oppressive.
Madin finally breaks it. "Why are you doing this?"
Arthur stops in his tracks and turns to face him. "What?"
Madin looks up, his expression a mixture of confusion and frustration. "Why are you throwing everything away? Your family, your throne, your dreams—you had a future, Arthur. A bright one. And now you're risking it all for me."
Arthur doesn't respond immediately. He steps closer, his gaze steady as he searches Madin's face.
"You think I don't know what I'm giving up?" Arthur says quietly. His voice is calm, but there's an intensity behind it that makes Madin's breath catch. "You think this is easy for me? Leaving my family, my responsibilities—it's tearing me apart. But…" He hesitates, looking away for a moment. "But losing you would tear me apart even more."
Madin opens his mouth to protest, but Arthur cuts him off. "I've thought about this, Madin. I've thought about it every day since I found out the truth about you. And yes, it hurts. Yes, I'm angry. But no matter how much I try to convince myself otherwise, I can't let you go. I've never felt this way before, and I'm not going to pretend it doesn't matter."
Madin feels a lump forming in his throat. He doesn't know how to respond.
Arthur takes a deep breath, his expression softening. "I'm not saying I have all the answers. I don't know what happens next, or where we'll end up. But I do know one thing—I'm not turning back. Not without you."
The sincerity in Arthur's voice leaves Madin speechless. He looks away, unable to hold Arthur's gaze any longer.
They continue walking, the silence now filled with unspoken emotions. Arthur steals a glance at Madin every now and then, worried about the distant look in his eyes.
But madin is still blaming himself, the need to change Arthur's mind so that he goes back is still rolling in him.