Chapter 59

Third Person’s POV

“Lena!”

The call rang across the courtyard just as Lena stepped out of the service court, cutting through the noise of preparations like a sudden gust of wind. Conversations faltered. Heads turned. Even those already seated inside their respective vehicles leaned out, drawn by the urgency in the voice.

Lena turned—and there she was.

Miu.

She was dressed far more elegantly than usual, the soft fabric of her dress catching the morning light as it moved with her. It flowed behind her with every hurried step, the gentle sway of it almost at odds with the urgency in her pace.

Lena’s brows knit together slightly as Miu closed the distance between them, her steps quicker than usual, almost unsteady in her haste.

“Great, you’re still here!” Miu called out, breath just slightly uneven as she reached her.

And then—

It happened.

Her foot caught.

The world seemed to slow.

A sharp shift in balance. The subtle falter of her footing.

For most, it would’ve been instinct—to brace, to catch themselves.

But not her.

Miu’s hands moved without hesitation, instinct overriding everything else as they pressed protectively over her stomach.

And in that single motion—

Fear struck.

Raw. Sudden. Unfamiliar in its intensity.

It flooded her in an instant.

She didn’t even think about the fall.

Only that.

Only what she might lose.

The ground rushed up—

But it never came.

Strong arms caught her before she could fall, wrapping around her firmly, holding her in place.

Still.

Safe.

Lena’s grip was tight—far tighter than necessary—as she steadied Miu against her, her breath catching just slightly.

For a moment, neither of them moved.

The courtyard, once full of noise, had gone completely silent.

For a moment, Miu didn’t move.

She stayed exactly where she was, held securely in Lena’s arms, her breath shallow as if her body hadn’t quite caught up to the fact that she hadn’t fallen.

The world slowly returned around themt—but Miu remained still, her hands still pressed protectively against her stomach.

“Are you alright?” Lena’s voice came quickly, edged with tension. “I haven’t even stepped out of the palace and you’re already getting yourself—”

She stopped.

Miu looked pale.

Not just startled—shaken.

Lena’s grip shifted slightly, one hand steadying her more firmly as her brows drew together. “What’s wrong?”

That seemed to pull Miu back.

She blinked, once, twice, as if forcing herself out of whatever fear had taken hold of her. Then she inhaled, slow but deliberate, and straightened.

“I’m fine,” she said, though her voice came out softer than usual. “Sorry. I was just… in a hurry to see you off.”

She eased herself upright, her hand instinctively finding Lena’s arm, holding onto it just a little longer than necessary.

Lena didn’t pull away.

“You should be resting,” Lena said, her tone quieter now, but no less firm. “It’s still early.”

“And you didn’t even bother to wake me before you left.”

Miu’s lips curved into a small pout, the complaint slipping out so naturally it almost felt out of place.

Lena blinked.

For a second, she just… stared.

That expression—that tone—

It was unfamiliar.

Or rather… it should have been.

Because the person Lena remembered—the one from years ago—had been steady, composed, always carrying himself with a quiet firmness even in his lighter moments. Even when he teased, there had always been something grounded beneath it.

Matthew had never looked like this.

Never sounded like this.

And yet—

Miu stood before her now, softer in ways Lena was still learning, still trying to understand. There was something unguarded about her, something that didn’t try to hide the small things—the pout, the quiet complaints, the way she reached for her without thinking.

It was different.

But not wrong.

If anything—

It made something in Lena’s chest tighten.

Because for the first time, she wasn’t just seeing the person she had lost.

She was seeing the one who had survived.

All the years in between. All the things Miu must have endured—alone, unseen, forced into a life that demanded she become someone else just to keep going.

And now—

She was here.

Within reach.

Lena exhaled softly, her expression easing as her hand shifted slightly against Miu’s arm, grounding her in return.

All she wanted—

was to give her something better.

A life that wasn’t built on survival.

A place she could call her own.

The freedom to simply be… whoever she wanted to be.

With her.

“Miu…”

Lena’s voice was quieter this time, enough to draw Miu’s attention without pulling the eyes of everyone around them again.

Miu hummed in response, still holding onto her arm, her earlier urgency settling into something calmer.

Lena hesitated for a fraction of a second.

“Is there anything you wish to tell me?”

The question lingered between them, softer than it sounded, but carrying more weight than it should have.

Miu blinked, clearly not expecting it. Her expression shifted—first acknowledgment, then curiosity, and then something thoughtful as she slowly pulled back just enough to think. Her arms crossed loosely, fingers coming up to rest against her chin as she tilted her head.

Lena watched her.

Waited.

For what, she wasn’t entirely sure.

But something in her chest tightened anyway.

Then—

“Oh!”

Miu’s face lit up.

Lena’s eyes widened slightly, anticipation rising before she could stop it.

“Please bring me back a present,” Miu said, clasping her hands together, her voice bright with genuine excitement. “I’d like to receive a gift from you.”

The moment lingered.

And just as quickly as it had risen, Lena felt that quiet anticipation in her chest falter—just a little.

Ah.

Of course.

A small, almost imperceptible wince crossed her expression before she smoothed it over, drawing in a slow breath.

“Very well,” she said, allowing a faint smile to form as she stepped closer. “But in return…”

Her voice lowered.

Her gaze dropped briefly—to Miu’s lips.

And before the moment could shift again—

Lena leaned in.

The kiss was gentle.

Unhurried.

Just enough to linger.

Miu froze.

Her eyes widened in surprise, her breath catching as she stood there, completely unprepared for it.

Around them, the courtyard fell silent.

Every movement stilled. Every voice faded.

It wasn’t shock that spread through the crowd—but something softer.

Something warmer.

For so long, Lena had been untouchable in their eyes. Composed, distant, always carrying herself with a quiet strength that left no room for moments like this.

And yet—

Here she was.

Close. Gentle. Real.

And undeniably hers.

A quiet sense of relief settled over those watching, unspoken but shared.

She’s happy. That was enough.

Slowly, Lena pulled back, but not far. Her forehead rested lightly against Miu’s, her breath steady, her presence grounding.

A small smile touched her lips as she nudged Miu ever so slightly.

“Don’t do anything reckless while I’m away,” she murmured. “And don’t overwork yourself.”

Miu was still frozen, her thoughts clearly struggling to catch up.

“Y-yes…” she managed, her voice soft, almost breathless.

Lena let out a quiet breath, the smile lingering just a second longer.

“See you soon.”

And then, before she could give herself a reason to stay, she turned and walked away.

—

Miu stood by the veranda of the grand hall, her hands resting lightly against the cool stone railing as the last stretch of sunlight spilled across the horizon. The sky was painted in fading golds and soft violets, the kind of quiet beauty she rarely allowed herself to pause for.

The day had slipped by without her noticing.

She had spent most of it inside her chambers, as instructed—resting, thinking… avoiding.

So now, she stood there, letting the evening air brush against her skin, as if it might clear the noise in her head.

“You’ll catch a cold like this, Your Majesty.” Fahlada’s voice cut gently through the stillness.

Miu turned at once, as if pulled back from somewhere far away. “Doctor… you’re here.”

Of course.

Her weekly checkup.

She had almost forgotten.

Fahlada stepped beside her, her movements calm, practiced. She rested her arms lightly on the railing, her gaze drifting briefly to the horizon before settling on Miu.

“Have you still not told Her Majesty?”

The question came without hesitation.

Miu’s fingers tightened slightly against the stone. She looked away, a faint, bitter smile forming as her eyes returned to the dying light of the sun.

“You already said so… my womb is weak,” she murmured quietly.

The words hung heavier than they should have.

For a moment, neither of them spoke.

“If…” Miu continued, her voice softer now, almost uncertain, “just if… there’s any chance my body cannot carry this child to term…”

Her hand moved slowly, instinctively, coming to rest over her stomach. The gesture was tentative—like she was still trying to understand what it meant.

“…and it results in nothing…”

Her fingers curled slightly against the fabric of her dress.

“At least she won’t be disappointed.”

The words barely made it past her lips.

Fahlada’s jaw tightened.

Not because she agreed—but because she didn’t.

Not with that.

Not when it came to Lena.

“Your Majesty—”

“It’s not that I don’t trust her.”

Miu cut in gently, though her voice wavered just enough to betray her.

She turned to face Fahlada fully this time, her expression softer, but far more fragile than she intended to show.

“I just…” she paused, searching for the right words, but finding none that felt enough. “I don’t want to see her disappointed. Or sad.”

Her gaze dropped again, the faint smile on her lips barely holding.

“That’s all.”

There was a quiet honesty in her voice—raw in a way she rarely allowed herself to be.

Then, after a moment, she looked back at the doctor.

“You can understand, can you?”

The question lingered between them, not demanding an answer, but quietly asking for one anyway—as the last light of the sun disappeared beyond the horizon.