Chapter 52

Lena’s POV

“Welcome back.”

Miu’s voice greeted me the moment I stepped through the palace doors. I looked up and found her standing near the top of the grand staircase, her figure framed by the tall windows behind her.

The sight of her alone was enough to loosen the tension that had been sitting on my shoulders all day.

I let out a quiet sigh of relief.

The days since our marriage had been relentless. Endless meetings, negotiations, and carefully worded conversations with leaders both inside and outside the kingdom.

Every discussion seemed to circle the same question—who did I marry?

They were all curious. Some were merely intrigued. Others were suspicious.

And a few… were persistent enough to become a problem.

Keeping Miu’s identity hidden had not been easy. Several of the nobles within my own kingdom had pressed me for answers, insisting they had the right to know who now stood beside their queen.

Beyond our borders, our allies were just as eager. A marriage like mine was never simply personal—for them, it was political.

But I delayed them all.

I smiled, deflected, redirected discussions, and postponed any official presentation.

Because until I was absolutely certain the Valeens and the Ducaines no longer posed a threat, I would not allow Miu to stand in front of the entire court as my wife. Not while there was even the smallest chance it could place her in danger.

“It’s late. You must be hungry.” Her voice drew me out of my thoughts.

By the time I looked back down, she had already descended the staircase and was standing directly in front of me.

“Ah, yes,” I replied, offering my arm to her without thinking. “Let’s go have dinner.”

She hesitated for just a second before gently wrapping her hand around my arm. The contact was light, almost careful, but I could feel the warmth of her touch through the fabric of my sleeve.

We walked together toward the dining hall in comfortable silence.

When we arrived, I immediately noticed the table arrangement. The long dining table stretched across the room as usual, polished to a soft shine under the chandeliers above. But what caught my attention were the plates.

Two settings.

Placed at opposite ends of the table.

I exhaled quietly.

Of course the servants would arrange it like this. It had always been the traditional way for royalty to dine formally—especially when meals were served in the larger hall.

Still, the sight of it left an odd weight in my chest.

I gently pulled my arm from Miu’s grasp and walked toward the table. One by one, I began lifting the plates, the goblet, the utensils, carefully gathering the entire setting from the far end.

Miu watched me silently.

I carried everything back to my side of the table and began placing the items on the chair next to mine, arranging them neatly.

“There,” I said with a small sigh of satisfaction. “Better.”

When I turned around, Miu was still standing where I had left her, her expression faintly puzzled.

I walked back to her and lightly took her hand.

“Come,” I said softly, guiding her toward the seat beside mine.

She allowed herself to be led without protest. Once she sat down, I gently pushed her chair forward so she was comfortably tucked against the table.

“I prefer to have you next to me at every meal,” I told her as I returned to my own seat. “From now on.”

The words left my mouth naturally, though a quiet warmth spread through my chest after saying them aloud. It felt like a small thing—but it mattered to me more than I expected.

For years I had eaten alone at this table, surrounded by servants but with no one truly beside me.

I didn’t want that anymore.

“Thank you,” Miu said gently after I sat down.

Her voice was soft, but when I glanced at her, there was something in her eyes that made the long, exhausting day feel a little lighter.

And for the first time since the endless meetings had begun, I allowed myself to simply enjoy the quiet moment beside her.

“Ummm…”

Miu’s voice broke the quiet between us. I looked up from my plate to find her staring down at her food, her fork hovering awkwardly above it as if she had forgotten what she meant to do with it.

“If it’s alright with you,” she continued softly, “can I start visiting Tungsten again?”

My hand paused midway through cutting the meat on my plate.

Before I could respond, Miu spoke again.

“Also… it’s been on my mind for a while. Visiting the slums you talked about, I mean…”

I slowly set my knife down and pressed my lips together.

Of course it had.

Miu had never been the type to ignore suffering once she knew it existed. The moment I had mentioned the conditions there weeks ago, I should have expected this would come back eventually.

“I… can’t allow that.”

The words left me more stiffly than I intended. I lifted my goblet and took a slow sip, hoping the motion would disguise the awkwardness settling in my chest.

“What?” Her head snapped up so quickly that I nearly choked on the drink. “Why not?”

The look on her face made it sound as if I had just said something outrageous.

“Because…” My jaw tightened as my mind raced for something—anything—that sounded reasonable.

I couldn’t let her go there yet.

If Miu saw the slums as they truly were, she would not simply observe them. She would take the weight of it upon herself immediately. She would demand action, push herself to fix things, involve herself in matters that would only exhaust her.

And right now, that was the last thing she needed.

We had been waiting for more than a week for the results of the embryo implant. Every day that passed tightened the quiet tension sitting in the back of my mind.

If the procedure had worked… if she was already carrying our child…

Then any unnecessary stress could become dangerous.

Ah.

That was it.

I straightened slightly and cleared my throat.

“Dr. Fahlada specifically instructed that you must not be put under too much stress during the IVF process,” I began carefully. “Your possible pregnancy is considered delicate.”

I picked up my knife again and started slicing my food into smaller pieces than necessary, focusing on the repetitive movement while I continued speaking.

“Also, the Ducaines might still be roaming near the slums despite the previous purging. And the roads in that area are rough. It would be too dangerous for you to ride out there.”

Another slice. Then another.

“And your hands are already full, managing everything within Tungsten’s central district. The rehabilitation efforts there still require your attention.”

I realized I had begun cutting things that didn’t even need cutting anymore, but I kept going anyway, letting the rhythm of the knife give me something to do while I spoke.

“Understood?” I finally looked up.

Miu was staring at me.

For a brief second I wondered if I had overexplained. Perhaps I had said too much.

“Oh…” she said quietly.

That was all.

Her gaze remained fixed on me, thoughtful, almost searching.

“Very well,” she added after a moment. “I’ll just focus on the rehabilitation for now.”

She lowered her eyes back to her plate.

“I’ll leave the slums to Jayden until further notice.”

Relief washed over me so suddenly that I had to stop myself from exhaling too loudly.

Good.

That was good.

“Umm, Lena.”

Miu spoke again after only a minute of silence.

The sound of my name made me wince internally. I had barely relaxed after deflecting her earlier request, and now I could already sense another question forming.

“Hmmm?” I hummed in response, the sound stretching longer than I intended as I lifted my head from my plate.

She hesitated for a moment before speaking.

“Do you think the Ducaines’ intention at the slums is merely human trafficking and pillaging?”

I paused.

Her eyes were distant, fixed somewhere past the table as if she were piecing together fragments of something only she could see.

“I just… find it odd that they’d still be wandering near a slum with nothing left in it to take for their benefit,” she continued slowly.

Her fork rested against the plate, forgotten. She leaned back slightly in her chair, her gaze drifting toward the empty space in front of her as she followed the path of her own reasoning.

“They might harm a few people here and there,” she added thoughtfully, “but their first goal is to take anything they need to run their business.”

A quiet sigh escaped me before I could stop it.

Honestly… I couldn’t let my guard down for even a moment around her.

A small smile tugged at the corner of my lips despite myself.

You’re still as sharp as you were.

Maybe even wiser now.

No matter how many years passed, she never failed to amaze me with the way her mind worked—how easily she dissected situations others would overlook.

Miu…

You truly deserve to be the one on the throne.

More than I ever did.

The thought lingered in my chest as I straightened in my chair and lifted my goblet, draining the last of the wine before setting it back down on the table.

“It’s just as you said,” I replied at last.

Her attention snapped back to me immediately.

“They probably weren’t just committing their usual crimes in the area.”

I folded my hands loosely in front of me on the table, my tone settling into something more serious.

“Now that we’ve confirmed the Valeens are connected to the Ducaines,” I continued, “those men lingering in the slums are likely operating directly under the Valeens’ orders.”

Miu’s brow furrowed as she absorbed the information.

“You mean…” she said slowly, her voice lowering with caution, “they want to invade the land?”

I exhaled quietly and clasped my hands together more firmly.

“Well…”

The word lingered for a moment as I considered how much to say.

“The Valeens have always opposed the palace,” I finally said. “Their ambitions have never been subtle.”

I leaned back slightly in my chair.

“They are greedy. Self-serving. And they’ve spent years waiting for an opportunity to shift the balance of power in their favor.”

My gaze drifted toward the long dining table stretching before us.

“So yes,” I added calmly, though the weight of the thought had never truly left my mind.

“I’m certain they’ve been waiting for a chance to turn everything around.”

The room fell quiet again after my words.

But this time, the silence felt heavier—filled not with simple curiosity, but with the quiet realization that the threat surrounding us was far larger than either of us had spoken aloud before.