The first rays of dawn filtered through the silk curtains, bathing the Moonwell chamber in hues of soft rose and gold. But the warmth of morning couldn't ease the chill that settled in Lysandra's chest.
She lay still beside Caveen, her head resting on his bare shoulder, memorizing the rise and fall of his breath. His arm was draped around her waist, possessive even in sleep, as if he knew the world was already trying to pull them apart.
She closed her eyes and inhaled his scent—cedar, embers, and something purely him. She wanted to trap the moment in her memory, preserve it before it slipped away.
But fate was impatient.
The gentle knock on the door wasn't loud, but it was enough.
Caveen stirred.
His hand tightened around her for a moment before he opened his eyes. The softness there vanished in an instant—replaced by a quiet storm.
"It's time," he whispered.
Lysandra sat up, pulling the blanket to her chest. "I know."
They dressed in silence, every movement heavy with unspoken words. Caveen fastened the last button of his shirt before turning to her. She stood by the window, her long silver hair catching the morning light like threads of moonlight.
When she looked at him, there was no demand, no desperation—only pain cloaked in grace.
"You should go before the Council senses you," she said gently.
Caveen walked to her, stopping only when he was close enough to feel the tremble in her breath.
"I don't know what they'll do next," he murmured, brushing his thumb along her cheek. "They've already tried to separate us. Now that they suspect more… they may try worse."
Lysandra closed her eyes as tears began to well. "But the child—"
"I'll protect both of you," he promised fiercely. "Even if I have to burn down the Council itself."
A tear rolled down her cheek. Caveen caught it with his lips, kissing her softly.
She reached up and cupped his face. "Promise me one thing."
"Anything."
"When you return… don't come as the Prince the Council wants." Her voice quivered. "Come as the man who held me under starlight. Come as you."
Caveen's breath hitched.
He leaned down and kissed her again—not out of lust, but longing. A kiss that said I will find my way back to you, even if the world crumbles.
As he pulled away, he pressed something into her palm—a pendant. Inside it, a sliver of his essence, enchanted to protect her and the child.
"I'll feel you with me," she said, gripping it tightly.
Caveen nodded, his voice low. "And I'll hear your heartbeat in every silence."
He turned and walked to the door.
Lysandra stood still, refusing to cry.
But when the door closed behind him, her legs gave out.
She sank to the floor, cradling the pendant in her palm as silent sobs wracked her body.
In the hallway, Caveen stood motionless for a long while—his hand on the door, his forehead pressed against the wood.
Then, with a deep breath that tasted of grief and iron resolve…
He walked away.
Back into a world that would not let them be.
But he had made a vow.
And Caveen Landon never broke a vow.
The horses neighed restlessly as Caveen dismounted, the grand gates of Landon Estate closing behind him with a low thud that echoed like a final warning.
He had returned.
But the man stepping onto the marble steps was no longer just a prince shaped by duty.
He had changed.
His eyes, once calm, now carried the storm of a thousand wars. His jaw clenched with suppressed fury. Inside his coat, he carried a secret—the pulse of new life, growing in Lysandra's womb. A life the Council wanted erased. A bond they had tried to sever.
He would not allow it.
"Prince Caveen."
Lady Jane's shrill voice cut through the wind as she swept down the steps like a hawk eyeing prey. "You arrived just in time. Celestine has been waiting."
At her side, Celestine stood adorned in lavender silk, her golden hair styled perfectly, a soft smile fixed on her lips. But her eyes were sharp, glinting with triumph.
"We were beginning to worry you had lost your way," Celestine said sweetly.
Caveen didn't respond right away. His eyes narrowed as he glanced between them.
"I had matters to attend to," he said flatly, brushing past them.
Lady Jane stepped in his path, undeterred. "You'll need to prepare. The Council expects a formal announcement of your engagement to Celestine by week's end."
He stopped.
Turned.
And the air grew cold.
"No," he said, voice low and final.
Lady Jane's smile faltered. "I beg your pardon?"
Caveen's eyes burned with steel. "There will be no engagement. Not to Celestine. Not to anyone the Council chooses."
Celestine blinked, her expression shattering for a moment before she caught herself.
He walked away then, leaving stunned silence in his wake.
And for the first time since the Council's decree, the Landon halls echoed with the power of defiance.