Fragile Desires (18+)

Sixty-Two | What If

The crown had always been a constant reminder of the freedom I didn't have.

Cold metal against my hair, a weight not just on my head, but on my entire life.

It had always been a recurring feeling for me.

But today, the weight felt heavier than usual.

So heavy that I almost entertained the thought that its unbearable heaviness might crush me.

Of course, deep down, I knew it wouldn't.

Yet the idea of losing Renata felt equally suffocating.

Perhaps even worse.

It felt like a punishment to contemplate the mere idea of walking this earth separately from her.

Knowing she holds my heart in her hands.

But perhaps this was my fate—to wander through life with an empty chest.

- Azzy

♛Chapter Sixty-Two: What If♛

The air was silent—tenser than ever as I sat beside Renata in the car, speeding down the highway back toward the event in the large city. 

I wanted to say something.

From the moment we got in the car, I wanted to object—to throw away my title for her.

But it wasn't that simple.

None of this was that simple.

We had two different duties to fulfill.

I suddenly glanced down, drawing in a breath when Renata's hand landed in my lap—holding one of my hands in hers.

And as soon as my fingers intertwined with hers, a tension rolled off my shoulders—seemingly feeling a sense of calmness just by her touch.

"I didn't mean to get short with you, Zee, I just..." she trailed off, exiting the highway into the city, "You give everything for a title that you feel burdened by."

I sighed softly, knowing her words were entirely accurate, but it wasn't about the burden of it.

It was about legacy—about continuing my family's line and taking care of a country filled with people counting on me.

Yes, it was a heavy responsibility, but it was mine to bear.

It had always been fated from the start.

"Just let me..." Renata trailed off yet again, shaking her head to herself, "Let me take care of you. I would do much better than the crown ever could."

And her words alone seemed to make my heart burn with warmth, suddenly glancing over to lay eyes on her perfect face.

Her tone was so genuine, so certain—like she knew what the future held if I let her take care of me... If I let her take care of us.

But as my eyes trailed over every detail of her beautiful features, I had seemed to already come to my own conclusion.

"You can't take care of me—just as much as I can't take care of you," I whispered, hating how truthful my words were, how set in stone it all was.