(At dusk)
Eyan stirred in his sleep, his arms still wrapped tightly around a familiar warmth. Slowly, his eyes fluttered open.
Carefully, he leaned closer, cheek brushing against Eva’s, feeling her skin. Warm—but no longer burning.
“Her fever is gone…” he murmured. “I should leave too.”
With practiced gentleness, he loosened her arms from around him and shifted, preparing to stand—
Suddenly, Eva clutched him from behind.
“Don’t go… please,” she cried softly, her voice breaking. “Don’t leave me alone.”
Eyan froze.
Her hand was gripping his chest desperately, fingers trembling as if afraid he might disappear the moment she let go.
He turned toward her at once, cupping her face and wiping away the tears sliding down her cheeks.
“I don’t know what kind of dream you’re having,” he said quietly, steady and reassuring, “but don’t worry. I won’t leave you.”
He pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead, lingering just a second longer than necessary. “Sleep more,” he whispered.
Only after her breathing steadied did he rise from the bed, carefully tucking the sheet around her. He picked up his shirt from the floor and dressed in silence.
Opening the window, Eyan slipped out into the fading dusk, leaving the room just as quietly as he had entered.
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(Morning)
Eva slowly opened her eyes and stretched beneath the covers, her body light, refreshed.
“I feel good now…” she murmured.
Turning onto her side, she lifted the sheet and brought it closer, inhaling softly.
A smile curved her lips. “It’s his scent…” she whispered. “So he really was here.”
She closed her eyes again, warmth blooming in her chest. “I thought I was dreaming… but the warmth I felt—it was his.”
She smiled, lingering in the memory—
Eva opened her eyes, then rose from the bed and walked to the door.
When she opened it, several maids bowed deeply.
“Lady Eva, we have come to serve you.”
Eva frowned slightly. “Serve me? Who sent you?”
“His Majesty,” one maid replied, stepping forward and presenting a folded dress.
“He instructed us to assist you. Please bathe and wear this. His Majesty wishes to see you in his study.”
Eva accepted the dress, her fingers brushing the fabric. Her heart skipped—just a little. “I understand.”
She closed the door and disappeared into the bath.
Some time later, Eva emerged dressed in the gown. The fabric hugged her perfectly, elegant and refined.
She stood before the mirror, studying her reflection. “It’s beautiful…” she murmured.
“Good morning, Sister-in-law.”
Eva turned sharply.
Luca leaned casually against the doorframe, arms crossed, a familiar grin on his face.
She smiled. “Good morning, Brother.”
He stepped inside. “I went to see you in the prison last night,” he said lightly.
“But I heard you’d fallen ill, so I decided to wait.” His eyes softened. “How are you feeling now?”
“I’m fine,” Eva replied. “Much better.”
Luca nodded. “Good.”
Then, without warning, he walked closer and flicked her forehead.
“Ow!” Eva grabbed it, glaring. “Brother! What was that for?”
“For doing something reckless and getting yourself into trouble,” he said flatly. Then, more seriously, “What were you thinking, attacking Eyan in alone like that?”
The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.
She shrugged, unapologetic. “What else could I do?”
Luca stared at her. “Don’t tell me that was your grand plan—to make him marry you.”
Eva smiled—slow, shameless, dangerous. “Yes,” she said. “I thought if I seduced him, he’d marry me.”
Her smile faltered just a touch. “I didn’t expect him to call the knights… and have me locked up.”
Luca sighed deeply. “I told you, didn’t I? It’s nearly impossible to make him marry you.”
Eva lifted her chin, eyes bright with quiet determination. “It’s not the end, Brother.”
She turned back to the mirror, smoothing the dress. “I still have a way to convince him.”
Luca narrowed his eyes. “What way?”
Eva met his gaze through the mirror and smiled—slow and confident.
“The most one.”
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“Please marry me, Your Majesty!”
Eva dropped to the floor without warning. Before Eyan could even process the words, she wrapped both arms around his leg like her life depended on it.
“Lady Eva—what are you doing?” Eyan snapped, horrified. “Let go of my leg!”
“No,” she said calmly, tightening her grip. She looked up at him, eyes shining with stubborn resolve.
“I won’t let go until you agree to marry me.”
Eyan stared down at her as if she’d completely lost her mind.
“What is wrong with you?” he demanded. “Why are you behaving like this?!”
She hugged his leg harder.
“Let. Go,” he warned.
Trying to free himself, Eyan yanked his leg back—harder than he meant to—
Thud.
Eva’s chin took the hit.
“Ahh!” She released him at once, clutching her chin and dropping back to the floor.
Eyan froze.
“…I—” His eyes widened in panic. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hit you.”
Eva stayed curled forward, whining softly, hand still on her chin.
“A-ah… it hurts…”
Guilt slammed into him. He immediately crouched in front of her. “Are you hurt? Let me see.”
She slowly lifted her head. And smiled. “Got you.”
Before Eyan could react, she shoved him backward.
“Wait—what are you doin—”
He hit the floor with a stunned thump, and in the same second
Eva climbed onto his waist, pinning him down with surprising strength.
“Lady Eva!” Eyan shouted, flustered beyond belief. “Get off me this instant!”
She didn’t.
Instead, she grabbed his hand, fingers lacing tightly with his palm so he couldn’t push her away.
Then—
She kissed him.
It wasn’t soft.
It wasn’t gentle.
It was bold, sudden, and completely unfair.
Eyan’s eyes widened in shock.
“Mm—!”
He struggled, turning his head, but she followed, stubborn as ever, pressing her lips to his again like this was a battlefield she fully intended to win.
Eyan struggled and finally broke the kiss. “Stop—!” he hissed.
“I won’t,” Eva replied instantly.
She leaned in again, kissing him without mercy, her palm tightening around his in a near-crushing grip, as if daring him to escape.
“WHAT IS GOING ON HERE?”
Both of them froze.
Slowly, painfully slowly, Eyan and Eva turned toward the door.
Eyan’s eyes widened in pure horror. “F…Father.”
King Thalor Therald stood at the doorway, tall and imposing—while Luca stood beside him, eyes stretched so wide he looked seconds away from choking on air.
For a moment, no one spoke.
Then King Thalor cleared his throat, his face faintly flushed. “Eyan, my son,” he said calmly, far too calmly, “at the very least, lock the door when you’re with a woman.”
Eyan’s soul left his body. “No—Father—it’s not like that!”
He shoved Eva away and scrambled to his feet, wiping his mouth as if that could erase what had just happened.
“Father, what brings you here—?”
Eva, meanwhile, bounced up instantly, smoothed her dress, and rushed forward.
She bowed deeply. “Greetings, Father-in-law.”
Dead silence.
Eyan turned so sharply toward her he nearly twisted his neck. “What did you just say?”
King Thalor’s brows lifted, clearly amused. “Father-in-law?” he repeated. “Eyan… who is this lady?”
“She’s no one, Father,” Eyan said far too quickly.
King Thalor ignored him and looked at Eva instead. “Lady, may I ask why you are calling me that?”
Eva straightened proudly. “Your Majesty… I want to marry your son.”
Luca made a strangled sound in the background.
“Oh?” King Thalor said thoughtfully. “You want to marry him.”
He paused, rubbing his chin, clearly considering it.
Then—
“Fine. Marry him.”
“FATHER!” Eyan shouted.
Eva’s face lit up instantly. “Really, Your Majesty? I can marry him?!”
“Of course,” King Thalor replied cheerfully. “He’s at marriageable age. I’d be more than happy to see him finally wed.”
Eyan stood there in complete disbelief as his father and Eva discussed marriage like he wasn’t even present.
Eyan’s voice cut through the room. “Father, I can’t marry her. She’s already married.”
Silence fell like a blade.
King Thalor slowly turned toward Eva, his gaze sharp but measured. “Lady… is that true? Are you married?”
Eva hesitated. “…Yes.”
King Thalor exhaled. “Then that settles it. You cannot marry Eyan if you are already another man’s wife. I will not allow it.”
Relief surged through Eyan.
Eva lifted her head again, eyes unwavering. “Your Majesty, if you are worried about my purity, there is no need.”
Eyan’s smile faltered.
“Though I am married,” Eva continued calmly, “my husband and I never consummated our wedding.”
She met his gaze without flinching. “That means our marriage was never complete,” she said quietly. “I will divorce him.”
Something twisted painfully in Eyan’s chest. “Are you out of your mind?” he snapped. “Why would you divorce your husband? You love him—”
“I don’t.”
The words landed like a strike.
Eyan froze.
Eva looked straight into his eyes, her voice steady, resolute. “I don’t love him anymore.”
The room seemed to tilt.
King Thalor nodded slowly. “If the marriage was never consummated, then by law, it is not a true union. There will be no need for divorce.”
Eyan’s breath hitched.
“Eyan,” King Thalor continued decisively, “hold a celebration banquet in two days. Make the announcement of your engagement.”
Eyan didn’t respond. He stood there, silent, as if the decision hadn’t just shattered something inside him.
King Thalor turned. “Luca, let’s go.”
Luca glanced once at Eyan—then at Eva—before following the king out. The door closed behind them.
Eva took a step forward. “Your Majesty—”
“Get out.”
“Your Maje—”
“I SAID GET OUT!” Eyan snapped.
Eva flinched.
For a moment, she looked as though she might argue. Then, slowly, she turned and left the room.
The door shut.
Eyan sat heavily in his chair, both hands dragging down his face, fingers digging into his skin as anger burned through him.
The words struck his chest like a slow, fatal blow.
“Why…” he whispered hoarsely. “Why you don't love me anymore?”
His hands fell to the armrests, gripping them until his knuckles turned white.
“No..You don’t get to throw me away like this,” he muttered, voice low and trembling with restraint. “I won’t let you.”
Eyan’s eyes darkened, something dangerous settling behind them.
“So that’s it,” he said quietly. “That’s your escape.”
His lips curled into a humorless smile. “You can’t marry if you consummate your wedding with your husband.”
Silence stretched.
Then his voice dropped—slow, deliberate, final.
“Then let’s do it,” he murmured. “Let’s consummate our marriage .”
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