CHAPTER 70: WORRY

After Eris disappeared into the distance,

I glanced down, and there it was, the evidence of everything I tried to suppress, straining against the confines of my trousers, a merciless reminder of the chaos she’d awakened in me.

The ache was brutal, sharp enough to hollow me out from the inside, pulsing in rhythm with my heartbeat as if it wanted to tear free. Ignoring it felt impossible, like standing before a raging storm and pretending the wind wasn’t tearing at my clothes.

A breath slipped past my teeth, sharp and low, carrying the weight of a frustration I could no longer disguise. This wasn’t me, losing command of my own body, my own will. Yet Eris... gods, Eris had unmade me with nothing but a glance, with the memory of her skin beneath my mouth, that forbidden taste that still clung to my tongue like sin refusing to fade.

I forced my breath to even out, drawing on the cold precision that had always defined me, the icy resolve that turned enemies to ash.

Cool it, I commanded myself, clenching my jaw as I willed the heat in my veins to freeze over. My mind sharpened, pushing the fire down, but my lower half twitched in protest, still rigid and unyielding, a testament to how deeply she’d burrowed into my thoughts.

Finally, I straightened myself, ignoring the way my erection tented the front obscenely. I needed to get out of the garden before some courtier wandered in and saw the evidence of my obsession.

My steps were measured as I slipped from the room, the corridors of Solmire’s palace echoing with my boots.

But my mind raced ahead, replaying the moment my mouth had brushed her arch, the silk of her sole, the faint salt of her sweat mingling with something sweeter, more intimate. It fueled the throb between my legs, making each stride a torment.

In my chambers, the heavy door clicked shut behind me, sealing me in privacy. I locked it with a flick of my wrist, the sound final.

Freshening up first: I poured water from a ewer into a basin, splashing my face, the cool liquid a shock against my heated skin. It helped a little, dulling the flush on my neck, but the stiffness remained defiant, pressing insistently against my waistband.

Deal with it, I thought, stripping off soft fabric in one rough pull, the fabric brushing over my shoulders. My chest heaved, muscles tight from the restraint I’d imposed all evening.

A knock broke through the silence. Sharp. Polite. Mistimed.

"Enter," I said, too curtly.

The door opened, and there she was, Ophelia, standing in the threshold like she’d wandered into the wrong storm. Her eyes widened at once, catching the sight of my bare chest.

"Forgive me, Your Majesty, I— I didn’t realize—"

Her words tangled together, cheeks flushing the color of wine.

I reached for the discarded shirt on the armchair and pulled it on, the fabric still cool from the night air.

"Don’t worry about it," I said, tone light, though my pulse hadn’t quite settled. "Why are you here?"

She stepped inside, hands clasped before her. "I came to see you because ... I’m worried."

I blinked. "Worried? About who? Me?"

A small nod.

"And why," I asked, "are you worried about me?"

Her lashes fluttered as if she couldn’t believe she had to explain it.

"Well, it’s because ... you asked Eris to be your wife."

Ah.

Of course.

I should have expected it.

The Emperor of Nevareth proposing to the Fire Queen of Solmire in front of an entire court.

Still it felt strange that she’d come all the way here to talk about it.

Maybe Caelen had sent her. Though I doubted it. He was far too proud for that.

"Which part makes you worried exactly?" I asked.

"Why would you ask Eris of all people to marry you?" she blurted.

"Why not?"

That stopped her. The question hung between us, weighty and unanswered.

I exhaled slowly, closing the space between us until her breath caught again, not from shock this time, but from the quiet steadiness I carried with me.

"You don’t need to worry about me," I said softly. "I can handle Eris."

"You don’t understand—"

"I do."

I let a faint smile curl at the corner of my mouth. "If you must worry, direct it toward Caelen. He seems... dissatisfied with her decision. He should have been relieved, but he looked furious. At her. At me."

At the mention of Caelen’s name, Ophelia’s face faltered, just for a second. The softness in her features hardened, then smoothed again as though nothing had cracked at all.

"Caelen is like that because he’s been tormented by Eris," she said finally, her voice low, almost careful.

She hesitated, eyes flicking to the floor before continuing.

"And suddenly she hands him everything she tormented him with. It feels... too easy. Suspicious."

Her fingers fidgeted with the lace at her wrist, twisting, untwisting.

"That’s why he’s distrustful of her. He believes she’s up to something he can’t see."

I watched her silently, her words curving and twisting through the air like smoke.

They might have convinced someone else, anyone else but not me.

Caelen’s distrust wasn’t born of suspicion. It was born of heartbreak.

The kind of wound no power, no crown, could ever salve.

He wasn’t angry because Eris was plotting something.

He was angry because she wasn’t his anymore.

But I didn’t say that.

I smiled instead, gentle, composed. The kind of smile people mistook for understanding.

"I understand," I said quietly. "And I appreciate your concern."

A pause, a deliberate one.

"But I proposed to Eris because I wanted to."

My tone sharpened, just enough to make it clear there was no argument left to be made.

"I’ll happily accept whatever consequences come with it."

Her lips parted, maybe to protest again, but she caught the look in my eyes and stopped.

"Including your friendship with Caelen?" she asked at last, and the question landed heavier than it should have.

I froze, barely, but enough for her to notice.

The air shifted. I could feel her gaze, patient and wounded, waiting for me to answer.

I inhaled slowly, forcing my voice to steady.

"I’m sure our friendship is stronger than a little disagreement."

Her brows knitted, a flicker of disbelief crossing her face. "A little disagreement?"

She took a step closer, her voice trembling slightly.

"I’ve watched you and Caelen become close like brothers, Soren. It breaks me to see you fight like this. I don’t want you to ever stop being friends."

Her sincerity almost disarmed me. Almost.

I’d forgotten how honest she could sound when she cared.

And yet, she didn’t know half the things that had already shifted between us, between me and Caelen, between me and her.

Still, I nodded.

"My decision wasn’t to hurt either of you," I said softly. "Especially not my best friend."

The words came easily.

But beneath them, something darker stirred, an unspoken truth I couldn’t voice:

That if choosing Eris meant losing Caelen...

I would still make the same choice.

Ophelia’s shoulders sank, the faintest sign of defeat slipping through her practiced composure.

For a long moment, she just stood there, eyes fixed on the floor, lips pressed tightly together.

Then she straightened. That gentle warmth she always carried flickered one last time across her face, the kind of smile that looked like forgiveness but wasn’t quite that.

"...I see," she murmured, voice barely above a whisper.

Her hands dropped from the lace at her wrists. She turned toward the door slowly, each step measured, like she was forcing herself not to run from the weight in the room.

At the threshold, she paused.

Without looking back, she said, quietly,

"I truly hope you don’t regret your decision."

The door opened, letting a wash of cold air sweep through the chamber. Then it closed softly behind her.

For a few seconds, silence.

The kind that hummed in your ears.

I exhaled, slow and steady, rolling my shoulders back to ease the tension that had begun to crawl up my neck. I told myself it was fine, that she’d understand in time.

But before the thought could even settle, a sharp thud broke the quiet.

My head snapped up.

It came from the outside, heavy, abrupt, final.

For a second, I didn’t move. Then instinct kicked in.

I crossed the room in few strides and yanked the door open...

and froze.