The ticking of the brass clock on the wall was the only sound filling the Governor's office.

Steam pipes hissed faintly in the distance, releasing pressure from the nearby boiler room. Outside, the streets of Aeger hummed with the sounds of an industrial city—automobiles rumbling over cobbled roads, the distant shriek of train whistles, and the steady clatter of typewriters from the administrative buildings.

The scent of coal smoke lingered in the air, seeping through the heavy iron-framed windows.

Yet, all Marina Velkas could smell was the suffocating presence of the two men behind her.

She ignored them.

Ignored them the way she had ignored the fact that her body had changed.

Her uniform strained against her midsection, the once-loose fabric now uncomfortably tight. Her movements had grown heavier, slower than they should be.

But she refused to acknowledge it.

She reached for her fountain pen, steadying her grip as she signed another document for infrastructure funding.

"Keep working. Focus.", she told herself.

A shaky breath behind her. Then—

"Governor, please."

A weak, desperate voice.

Marina's hand clenched around her pen. She did not have to turn around to know who was kneeling beside her desk.

Ruyi Vael'Tyrr.

Golden-eyed, reddish golden-haired, the ever-reckless and cruel eldest twin king of Aeger. Both beautiful and dangerously regal, his sharp features carried the weight of power and expectation. Every movement spoke of command, a man born to rule, not to follow.

Tonight, however, there was no arrogance in his posture. No mocking amusement in his molten gold eyes.

He was on his knees.

His usual smirk was gone, replaced by something else—guilt, regret, raw longing.

"You need to stop this," Ruyi whispered. "You… You cannot keep pretending—"

This must have been the first time Ruyi had ever begged for something, because he was terrible at it.

He reached out, his gloved hands hovering near her knee but never touching. His entire body was covered—encased in a protective bodysuit beneath his silken robes, as though afraid even the barest brush of his skin might defile her further.

"Governor," another voice interjected. Colder. Steadier.

Ruyel Vael'Tyrr.

He stood just behind his twin, his blue eyes gleaming in the dim light of the office lamps. His shoulder-length white hair framed his sharp jaw, a striking contrast to his dark, militarized attire.

If Ruyi was a blazing wildfire, then Ruyel was the frost that followed—a ghostly beauty, unreadable and silent.

Unlike his brother, he did not kneel.

He simply watched.

A sentinel. A shadow Marina could not shake.

Marina slammed her pen onto the desk.

"I have work to do."

"Marina." Ruyi's voice cracked. His hand reached out again, hesitating, hovering just above her own. "I—I'm sorry."

The words sent a deep, unrelenting rage burning through her chest.

She turned to him slowly, her hazel eyes dark with fury. Her black hair, always neatly braided, was beginning to unravel, curls slipping free.

She was a vision of power, even in her anger. Even with the weight pressing against her ribs.

"Sorry?" Her voice was a whisper of disbelief. "For what exactly?"

Ruyi flinched, but she pressed on.

"For forcing yourself on me?"

His golden eyes fell to the floor.

"For letting your brother do the same?"

Ruyel, for once, did look away.

"For throwing me out like trash afterward?"

Ruyi's breath shuddered as he exhaled. He bowed his golden head, fingers digging into his own palms.

Marina's lips curled in disgust. "You should have stayed in your palace of debauchery. Isn't that where you belong? Back to your noble men and women, your silk sheets, your endless wine, your orgies?"

Silence.

Then, Ruyel finally spoke.

"You are carrying our children."

His voice was quiet. Absolute.

Marina stood so fast that her chair scraped against the marble flooring. Her uniform stretched painfully against her belly, the undeniable evidence pressing against the edge of her desk.

The twins almost reached for her—but stopped.

Her own hand had moved first, instinctively pressing against her stomach.

No.

No.

She refused to acknowledge it.

Her breath came out ragged as she turned fiercely to Ruyel, eyes burning with something raw and unforgiving.

"And whose fault is that?" she hissed.

Ruyel did not answer.

Her voice rose. "Shouldn't you be in your own pleasure halls, Your Majesty? Go drown yourself in men, experimenting, and wine. That's all you're good for, isn't it?"

Ruyel did not react. He merely watched her, silent as the moonlight. His expression unreadable, yet something flickered in his icy blue eyes.

Ruyi reached for her hand, his fingers trembling, his body nearly shuddering with restraint.

"I never wanted to hurt you," Ruyi whispered.

Marina snatched her hand away.

"I do not have time for your guilt," she snapped. "Both of you. Leave."

They did not.

-----

Outside the Governor's office, Aeger City, the capital of the vassal kingdom of Aeger, was alive with whispers.

The Governor was pregnant.

No one dared to speak of it in front of her, but everyone knew.

The mine workers, the soldiers, the merchants—they all speculated in hushed voices, careful not to be overheard.

"Did you hear? The Governor is expecting."

"Who could be the father? She barely interacts with men outside work."

A pregnant pause, then a knowing look exchanged between them.

"There's only one possibility. Or rather, two."

"The Twin Kings."

"It has to be."

Some lowered their voices even further, whispering like conspirators in the streets.

"I heard she still works like nothing has changed."

"Shouldn't she step down? She's going to give birth soon."

"Step down? Are you mad? She's the only reason Aeger isn't rotting in filth. If she leaves, the city will crumble."

-----

In the Governor's Hall, her subordinates—soldiers, aides, even the kitchen staff—tried to cheer her up in their own quiet ways.

The kitchen staff coaxed her into eating more, watching closely as she forced herself to swallow.

Soldiers willingly took more shifts, covering for her without being asked.

Aides took on new responsibilities, handling matters she would normally oversee.

They never spoke of it, but she could feel their silent concern, their unspoken fear.

Perhaps they sensed what she refused to acknowledge—that she was pushing herself not just out of duty, but in a desperate, destructive attempt to break herself. To drive her body past the point of endurance, to make this burden, this cruel twist of fate, disappear.

She ignored them all.

She did not need their pity.

She knew that the upper nobility, the bureaucrats, even the servants in the palace had heard the rumors. Some of them had witnessed her disgrace firsthand. Yet, they remained silent.

As if everything was normal.

For that, at least, she was thankful.

But she did not need them to look at her as if she were fragile.

She did not need their hushed sympathy or their careful kindness.

And she did not need him—

 The golden-haired man who haunted her halls, guilt-ridden, pleading.

 The white-haired man who never left her side, watching, silent, unwavering.

She should hate them.

She should despise them.

And yet—

Her fingers curled into fists.

A soft ache twisted in her chest. She hated that she couldn't bring herself to hate them.

No.

She crushed it. Buried it beneath the weight of her duty.

She is Marina Velkas.

She is the Governor of Aeger.

The one appointed by the Crown Princess of the Empire herself.

She would hold Aeger City together—even if her body betrayed her, even if the world whispered, even if two kings begged for a forgiveness she refused to grant.

She would not let Aeger fall. Not to corruption, not to chaos, not to the indulgence of its rulers.

These people—the forgotten citizens of the great Empire of El-Shihara—had a right to share in the empire's prosperity. And she would fight for it, fight for them, no matter the cost.

Her feelings had no place in this war.

She would never fall.

Not now.

Not ever.