Arvin and Kain were seated in the study, the afternoon light spilling in through the tall windows as their conversation drifted lazily from estate matters to idle remarks. The room felt unguarded, almost peaceful.
The door opened.
Goya entered first, her expression composed, followed closely by Mirha. Behind them stood the colonel—the very one Mirha had once stumbled upon by the stream, bare-chested and laughing with Kain's men. Now he was impeccably dressed, posture straight, eyes lowered in respect.
As Mirha stepped inside, the colonel bowed deeply.
"Nice to see you again, Your Majesty."
Mirha smiled, warm and instinctive. "Thank you."
He smiled back—brief, polite, harmless.
But Arvin saw it.
A sharp, unwelcome emotion stirred in his chest, swift and hot. Jealousy—an old, forgotten feeling he had not entertained since Mirha entered his life so completely. His jaw tightened, though his expression remained unreadable.
Mirha approached the table and bowed gracefully. "Imperial General Kain," she greeted, acknowledging Arvin's elder brother with proper respect.
Kain inclined his head, observant as ever, missing nothing.
Mirha then turned to Arvin. "How long will we stay here, Your Majesty?"
Arvin's gaze lingered on her a heartbeat longer than necessary before he answered, his voice calm but decisive.
"We shall leave shortly."
The colonel stepped back into stillness by the door, Goya remained quiet, and Kain leaned back slightly in his chair—aware that something subtle had shifted, even if no one spoke of it.
Mirha sat gracefully, folding her hands in her lap as Goya rose and called Kain aside with her, leaving Arvin and Mirha alone in the study. The room felt quiet, almost suspended in time, as Arvin's eyes met hers.
"Shall we take a walk?" he asked, a faint smile tugging at his lips.
Mirha nodded, curiosity sparking. "Where to, Your Majesty?"
Arvin led her through the palace corridors, past familiar halls, until they stepped outside into the warm afternoon. "I want to show you the gardens," he said, his tone soft but tinged with nostalgia. "These are the gardens I played in as a child."
Mirha's eyes widened as she looked around at the well-manicured hedges, fountains that glimmered in the sunlight, and paths lined with flowers of every color. It was beautiful, serene, almost magical.
Arvin gestured to a shaded bench under a flowering arbor. "Here," he said, sitting down. "This is where I made my plans."
Mirha tilted her head. "Plans?"
He laughed quietly, a sound rare and light. "If I hadn't been born Emperor, I would have left Èvana. I would have found a simple life… perhaps married a cute Madish lady, like you, and settled in Kamaya. Its beauty, its peace… I often dreamed about it."
Mirha's lips curved into a soft smile, touched by the rare glimpse into his private thoughts. "And now?" she asked gently.
Arvin's gaze softened as he looked at her. "Now… fate had other plans. But sometimes, I still imagine what life could have been."
Mirha reached out and lightly brushed his hand. "It seems even then, your heart would have been set on something—or someone—special."
Arvin's eyes flicked to hers, a quiet warmth in his gaze. "Perhaps," he murmured.
The two of them sat there for a while, the sounds of the gardens surrounding them—the soft rustle of leaves, the distant call of birds—filling the comfortable silence. For a moment, the world outside seemed to fade, leaving just the two of them and the secrets of a boy's dreams, now shared with the woman who had captured his present.
Arvin leaned a little closer, his eyes darkening with intent, and Mirha's heart skipped a beat. He was just about to brush his lips against hers when a series of moans echoed faintly from somewhere beyond the garden walls.
Arvin froze mid-motion, his composure cracking. His jaw tightened, and a low, frustrated sound escaped him, betraying his arousal. Mirha, noticing the sudden shift, quickly sat back on the bench, crossing her hands in her lap as if nothing had happened, her expression calm.
"Did you hear that?" she asked softly, though her eyes sparkled with suppressed amusement.
Arvin didn't answer immediately. He ran a hand through his hair, visibly struggling to regain control, his usual restraint slipping.
Mirha, sensing his tension, kept her tone light, pretending not to notice the incident. "Well," she said, tilting her head innocently, "I suppose even the gardens have their… surprises."
Arvin finally gave a sharp exhale, a mixture of embarrassment and desire, before clearing his throat and forcing a small, awkward smile. "Yes… surprises," he muttered, shooting a glance around to ensure no one could see them.
Mirha bit the corner of her lip, fighting back a smile. She remained poised and composed, but inside, her heart raced, secretly thrilled by how flustered the usually controlled Emperor had become.
Arvin and Mirha walked back to the study, still a little flustered, their earlier momentum completely broken. As they entered, they found Kain and Goya sitting unusually close, an air of suspicious intimacy lingering around them. Both Arvin and Mirha instantly realized who might have been the source of the moans.
Kain, noticing their entrance, straightened slightly, while Goya quickly rose. "We'll just… go check out some clothes," she said to Mirha, giving her a quick, apologetic smile before leaving with Kain.
Once they were gone, Arvin turned to Kain, his gaze sharp but calm. "Are you and Princess… already—?"
Kain immediately cut him off with a smirk. "She is my fiancée, yes. But let's not get ahead of ourselves."
Arvin raised an eyebrow, crossing his arms. "Alright… but she needs a proper marriage before anything else. Tradition matters, Kain."
Kain chuckled lightly, shaking his head. "Noted, little brother. Consider it taken care of."
Arvin exhaled, half-amused, half-irritated, then turned to Mirha. She met his gaze, her lips twitching into a knowing smile, silently sharing in the absurdity of the moment.