Ashtoria did not know what kind of feeling was surging in her chest at that moment. She only knew one thing, that this embrace was far too comforting to let go of.

Her body leaned against Riven’s chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. It was strong… yet warm. It felt like a place she had been searching for all along without realizing it—a place where her scars were not mocked, and her existence was not feared.

She closed her eyes. Her breathing fell in sync with his, and for a fleeting moment, the world seemed to stop moving. All the wounds, the grudges, the blood in her past seemed to evaporate within this embrace. Every bitter memory, every scream haunting her long nights, felt as though they could be silenced by this single embrace.

Yet, in that stillness, Riven’s voice suddenly whispered in her ear, and her whole body stiffened.

“Aria… or should I call you Your Majesty.”

The whisper was soft. Gentle. But it cut like a thin blade, striking straight into her consciousness.

“If you really wanted to hide who you are, shouldn’t you have picked a more creative name?” Riven teased lightly.

Ashtoria’s eyes snapped open.

Her body froze in his arms, her mind racing. In that split second, she realized she had shown too much. Her gestures. Her gaze. Her words, heavy with emotion. Her questions about Queen Iskandrite that were far too personal. All of it…

Riven had pieced it together.

He knew.

But what shocked her even more was Riven’s reaction.

No fear.

No anger.

No urge to push her away.

No disgust or horror in his eyes, the kind she was so used to seeing once people learned who she truly was.

Instead… the man continued to hold her. Continued to stroke her head gently. Continued to look at her as if she were not a monster, but something precious.

Ashtoria could not move. Even breathing felt heavy. Not from fear, but from something far more terrifying: hope.

She did not regret showing the part of herself she should have hidden.

But now, within this embrace, a different fear began to spread.

Not the fear of rejection.

Not the fear of pain.

But the fear… of loss.

The fear that this man would one day change his mind. The fear that all of this was only an illusion. The fear that Riven would eventually leave, because he knew who she really was.

And that fear tightened in her chest.

Why is he not afraid of me?

Why does he still hold me like this?

What does he see… when he looks at me that way?

The thoughts tore at her, shredding the fragile corners of her soul. Her body burned, her heart pounded as if it would explode. She wanted to scream. To cry. To laugh. To tear the world apart and cage this man at her side forever.

But more than anything else… she just wanted to remain in this embrace.

In silence, her hand moved, clutching Riven’s clothes tighter, as if afraid he would vanish at any moment. She pressed her head deeper against his chest, shut her eyes tightly, and let the beating of his heart drown her.

Seeing Ashtoria still silent against him, Riven could feel how lost she was within the shadows of her past after laying them bare. Her body trembled slightly, her grip on his clothes had not eased.

Riven knew… they would part soon. Perhaps after this, they would never meet again. The thought weighed heavily on his chest. He leaned closer to her ear and whispered once more, his voice soft yet filled with sincerity.

“I do not know Queen Ashtoria Iskandrite, the one everyone talks about…” he murmured. “But the Ashtoria Iskandrite I know, the one who has been with me these past days, she is not the terrifying figure told in stories.”

Ashtoria lifted her head slightly to look at him, though she said nothing.

Riven continued with a faint smile tugging at his lips.

“The one I know is a woman of breathtaking beauty. The strongest person I have ever met. She taught me how to be a mage, how to hold a sword… and she saved me. She saved my sister’s life.”

Their eyes locked—close, unyielding, with no distance left between them.

“To me…” Riven’s voice softened, “…you are an extraordinary woman.”

The words fell softly between them, yet thundered within Ashtoria’s chest. She did not move. But in her silence, her body grew hotter, her breath more uneven. Something welled up inside her, surging like a wave too strong to control.

Happiness?

Perhaps.

But this was more than that. Too much. Too sudden. Too deep. Her heart pounded painfully fast. Her hands, once limp at Riven’s sides, now clutched at the back of his clothes, as if afraid he would disappear if she let go.

She did not want this to end.

She did not want time to move forward.

She wanted the world to freeze at this moment, where only the two of them existed, bound in an embrace that should not be… yet felt so right.

She stared at Riven without a word. The man only stared back, neither avoiding nor stepping away. And as their gazes locked, Ashtoria realized something that made her shiver.

This was farewell.

Somehow, she felt it—this would mark the end of their time together.

She could not accept it.

Not now.

Not after hearing those words from him.

She was not ready. She did not want to part. She wanted to be with him. Always near him. She wanted Riven to see her, to call her name, to think of her and her alone.

The feeling pressed painfully against her chest, burning through her mind until she could barely think.

But just as she opened her mouth, a noise in the distance shattered the moment.

The sound of hooves. Cheers. The delicate music of bells and street violins.

Both of them turned instinctively.

A grand procession was making its way through the city’s main street. Three elegant carriages, escorted by cavalry and foot soldiers in formal uniforms. Banners fluttered, and petals rained from the balconies above.

The first carriage was adorned with white flowers and golden threads. Its curtains were open, revealing a young bride and groom sitting side by side—hands clasped, their faces glowing with genuine happiness.

The square transformed in an instant. Townsfolk rushed to the roadside, filling the sidewalks to see the procession up close. Children squealed with joy, merchants abandoned their stalls, and street musicians played cheerful melodies in celebration.

Melly, sitting on a bench nearby, rose to her feet, smiling faintly at the joy around her. She glanced at Riven and Ashtoria standing together, but she did not interrupt. She knew this moment was not hers.

An old woman whispered to her companion, “I heard wild beasts attacked their carriage before they reached the city… but luckily Count Dalmone drove them all away.”

Her friend laughed, “That is love for you. No matter the obstacles, it prevails. And look at them now, so happy.”

Their voices drifted into Ashtoria’s ears.

“May you always be together! Never part!” someone shouted from a second-story window, tossing flowers.

“They say Lady Daphne fell for Lord Rathsture first and chased him until he surrendered and fell in love too!” a young girl murmured near Ashtoria.

Ashtoria did not look away. The bride’s radiant smile, the crowd’s blessings, the changing colors of the evening sky, it all felt like a dream foreign to her.

She tried to imagine herself there.

Beside Riven.

But just thinking of it made her breath catch. Heat flared in her cheeks. A spark like fire spread through her chest, racing to her fingertips.

She no longer knew how to contain it.

The desire grew too fast. Too deep. Too painful.

The noise around her faded, dissolving into the sound of her own heart.

Is this… what love is?

Is this… what I am feeling now?

Her mind spun into chaos. Her breath hitched, her body flushed, and her eyes found Riven again.

She looked at him, and her soul screamed.

Do not leave.

Please, do not leave me.

Her hand gripped his arm tighter than before. Yet her lips stayed sealed. She did not know what to say. She did not even know the name of this feeling.

She only knew one thing.

She would not let this man go… no matter what.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep