As the bells chimed in the kingdom of Sylvanaria, anticipation filled the air as the populace awaited the arrival of their new Empress. The convergence of the crown prince's coronation and his wedding on the same auspicious day heightened the excitement, promising a new era for the realm. Yet, amidst the jubilation, two souls harbored a silent anguish—the bride herself and the groom's sister.
Unbeknownst to many, their journey together had kindled an unexpected love, one that now lay tangled in the webs of duty and circumstance.
"Why the tears, my lady? You're resplendent," Becca's handmaiden inquired, dabbing powder onto her face. With the wedding imminent, Becca remained cloistered in her chambers, wrestling with guilt and sorrow. This wasn't how she envisioned it ending. She yearned to be free, to be with her beloved rogue, rather than tethered to a loveless union. "The ceremony will commence shortly."
Impatiently barging into the chamber, Saint, his demeanor softened at the sight of his weeping bride-to-be. "What's the delay?"
Dismissed by a nod from Saint, the servant retreated, leaving the couple alone. As Saint approached, Becca's sobs persisted.
"Why the tears, my future queen?" Saint's voice softened, a tinge of sadness in his tone. He couldn't bear to see Becca in such distress. "What troubles you?"
Becca met his gaze, her eyes beseeching, yet her voice faltered. It was as though she were mute before him, her mind in turmoil, grappling with the weight of her confession.
"Where is Freen? Did you truly exile her?" Becca's voice quivered.
With a heavy sigh, Saint nodded, his gaze drifting to the window. Doubt gnawed at him; perhaps, his anger had clouded his judgment, leading to Freen's banishment.
"She erred gravely, Lady Becca. She dared to love the future Empress," Saint admitted, meeting Becca's gaze. Seeing her anguish, he realized it wasn't solely Freen who had fallen. "Yet, I've come to a realization."
"What is it?" Becca pressed, her heart pounding. "Tell me, Prince. What must I do to keep her here? I cannot bear to live without her."
Saint smiled sadly, kneeling before Becca, tenderly caressing her cheek. He knew his decision wasn't ideal, but if it meant her happiness, he would relinquish her to the one she loved. Who was he to deny her that?
"I love you, Becca. And I love my sister," he confessed, tears welling in his eyes. "I believed Freen alone harbored feelings for you, hence her banishment. But I was mistaken."
"What do you mean, Prince?" Becca's brow furrowed, confusion etched in her features.
"I should have been the protector, yet I tasked another. Now, I must bear the consequences," Saint murmured, rising to his feet. "I shall inform the Emperor that the wedding is off. You are free. I will handle everything henceforth."
"What of me?" Becca's voice quivered, her gaze locked with Saint's tearful eyes.
"Do what you do best. Defend our realm and love Freen," Saint replied with a bittersweet smile. "Just promise not to forget me amidst your battles. Remember, I once held a place in your heart, alongside her. I wish to be the reason for your smile, Becca. But if I cannot, then let her be."
As Becca embraced Saint, he held her tightly, knowing this parting wasn't easy, yet it was the right path. For sometimes, the best decisions aren't always the easiest.
***
"FREEN!" Becca's voice echoed through the forest as she rode her horse, searching for her beloved amidst the dense foliage. She knew Freen would be here, somewhere, waiting. "Reveal yourself!"
Tracking the trail of horseshoe imprints on the forest floor, Becca followed until she stumbled upon a clearing carpeted with tall grass. Dismounting her horse, she gingerly pushed aside the verdant curtain, revealing a crystalline blue lake glistening in the dappled sunlight—hidden, like a secret sanctuary.
"So, you've eluded the crown prince," Freen's voice floated from above, perched in a tree, her attire reminiscent of her rogue days. This was the woman Becca had come to love.
"Come down!" Becca implored, but Freen merely chuckled and shook her head.
"First, declare your love for me, Lady Becca!" Freen teased, her laughter ringing through the forest.
But Becca's response was a whisper, not a shout. Freen descended, puzzled by Becca's uncharacteristic restraint.
"Why not shout it?" Freen inquired, her brow furrowed. "There's no one here but us. You needn't hold back."
"I'm not hiding, Freen. I simply choose not to waste my energy on fruitless declarations," Becca explained, her gaze unwavering. This was the beginning of their shared defiance against societal norms. "No more secrets. It's just you and me against the world. I will fight for you until the end."
A smile graced Freen's lips as she leaned in, capturing Becca's lips in a fleeting kiss before darting away. Without hesitation, Becca gave chase, their hearts intertwined in a dance of liberation.
Finally, they had found their haven—a place untouched by judgment or constraint, where their love could flourish without fear.