The snow fell softly, blanketing the kingdom of Erelith in a silvery stillness. From the frost-covered windows of the high tower, Seraphina watched the flakes drift down, her fingers trailing over the cold glass. The once-vibrant gardens below lay hidden beneath layers of white, their beauty frozen in time, much like her own heart.
Behind her, the faint sound of boot steps echoed against the stone floor, drawing closer. She didn't turn around. She didn't need to.
"You always watch the snow as if it carries answers," Kael's deep voice broke the silence, low and calm, yet laced with something heavier—regret, perhaps. Or longing.
Seraphina didn't respond immediately. Instead, her breath fogged the glass, a fragile veil over the world outside.
"Snow doesn't bring answers, Kael," she said softly, her voice as fragile as the snowflakes. "It buries the truth beneath its silence."
Kael's footsteps stopped mere paces behind her. She could feel the heat of his presence even through the cold air.
"And what truth do you seek to bury?" he asked, his voice a quiet challenge.
Her hand stilled on the glass. "The truth that this kingdom is already lost," she whispered. "That every choice I make brings more ruin, no matter how hard I try to change the course."
Kael stepped closer, his breath now warming the nape of her neck. "You're wrong. The kingdom isn't lost yet."
Her eyes finally left the snow, turning to meet his. His dark eyes burned with a conviction that seemed to melt the frost between them. But it wasn't hope she saw there—it was something far more dangerous.
"You think you can save it by tearing it apart?" she said, her voice sharpening. "How many more must die for your cause?"
Kael's jaw tightened, and for a moment, the man who had once been her shadow—her protector—seemed like a stranger cloaked in darkness.
"Sometimes, the only way to rebuild is to let the old world burn," he replied, his tone unyielding. "I would raze this kingdom to its foundations if it meant saving you."
"Saving me?" Seraphina laughed bitterly, stepping away from him. "You don't save someone by caging them, Kael. You don't save someone by making them choose between love and ruin."
Kael reached out, his gloved hand brushing against her shoulder before she pulled away. "You think I wanted this?" he said, his voice breaking slightly. "I never wanted you to suffer. But you're the only one who sees this kingdom for what it truly is—a hollow shell filled with vipers."
Her eyes flashed with pain and defiance. "And you've become the worst of them."
The silence that followed was deafening, broken only by the faint howl of the winter wind.
Kael's hand fell to his side, his expression unreadable. "If that's what it takes to protect you, so be it," he said quietly. "But one day, Seraphina, you'll understand. When the snow melts, the truth will remain, and you'll see why I chose this path."
She turned her back to him, her heart pounding painfully against her ribs. "Leave, Kael," she said, her voice trembling. "Before I lose what little is left of myself."
For a moment, he hesitated. Then, with a sigh that seemed to carry the weight of the world, he turned and walked away, his footsteps fading into the silence.
Seraphina pressed her forehead against the glass, watching as the snow continued to fall, erasing all traces of the world beneath it.
But even as the snow buried the truth, she knew it could never hide the shadows lurking just beneath the surface.