The night air burned cold in her lungs as she ran.
Aurelia Vale's skirts were heavy with mud, the hem torn from branches that clawed at her legs. The forest around her was alive with whispers — the rustle of leaves, the call of distant owls, and the soft patter of her frantic footsteps. Her heart thundered in her chest like a drum echoing through the dark.
She didn't know where she was going. Only that she couldn't stop.
The royal guards would soon realize she was gone. Maybe they already had. Maybe, at this very moment, the torches she'd seen flickering behind the carriage were lighting up the roads in search of her.
But she didn't care.
Not tonight.
Not when the crown had just claimed her life like a piece of property.
When she broke past the last thicket, the world opened before her — a small clearing she knew too well. Fireflies shimmered lazily above a shallow pool of moonlight, and the scent of pine hung heavy in the damp air. It was part of their secret place — hers and Malion's.
She stumbled into it, nearly collapsing against a moss-covered stone, her breath sharp and uneven. For a long while, she simply stood there, listening to the forest hum around her, trying to steady her shaking hands.
"What am I going to do now?" she whispered to no one, her voice breaking.
"Perhaps start by telling me why you're out here at this hour," came a familiar, low voice from behind.
Aurelia spun around so fast she almost tripped.
"Malion—!" she gasped, clutching her chest.
He stepped out of the shadows, his tall figure framed by the pale glow of the moon. His cloak was damp from the mist, his expression calm but edged with concern. Those storm-gray eyes of his — always so controlled, so unreadable — now carried something sharper.
"I should be asking you that," he said, closing the distance between them. "It's nearly midnight, Aurelia. And you look like you've been running from the world itself."
"Maybe I have," she muttered.
He studied her a moment, then frowned. "You're shaking."
"I'm fine." She brushed past him and sank onto the stone she'd leaned on moments ago. "Just… overwhelmed."
"Tell me what happened," he said quietly, his tone gentler now.
Aurelia pressed her palms together, trying to find her voice. "They came to my house. The royal guards."
Malion's eyes flickered. "The royal guards?"
She nodded, still breathing heavily. "They brought the king's decree — that I've been chosen as his bride. Me, of all people. I don't even know how or why. One moment I was dreading my mother's decision , the next… I was ordered to get into the carriage."
Malion's lips twitched, though not with surprise — more like bitter confirmation. "The King has a strange way of announcing his intentions."
"You can say that again," Aurelia said, voice trembling. "I couldn't even breathe. Everyone just stood there like statues. My mother—she was ready to marry me off to Rowan a heartbeat ago, and suddenly she was singing praises about the royal match."
She laughed weakly, rubbing her arms. "It's almost funny, if it weren't my life on the line."
Malion folded his arms, watching her. "And so you ran."
"Wouldn't you?" she asked sharply, eyes flashing. "They expected me to walk into that palace, marry a man everyone calls mad, and smile while he ruins my life."
"You don't even know him," he said.
"I don't need to," she shot back. "I've heard the stories. The executions. The soldiers who vanish. The courtiers who dare to speak and are never seen again."
Malion's voice dropped, quiet but firm. "Stories aren't always truth, Aurelia."
She met his gaze defiantly. "And sometimes they are."
They stared at each other — two stubborn hearts colliding in the half-light of the forest. Then Aurelia sighed and turned away.
"I just… I can't do it. I can't marry him. I'm not ready for any of this."
Malion tilted his head slightly. "Not even to Rowan?"
Aurelia groaned. "Oh, saints, not you too. Rowan is kind, yes, but he's like a brother to me. Mother's only thinking of status and trade benefits. I don't love him."
"Love," Malion murmured. "You think that matters in marriages like these?"
"It should," she said firmly. "It's my life, isn't it?"
He gave a soft, almost sad laugh. "You sound so certain. So sure that the world bends to what's fair."
"Maybe it should start trying," she said, lifting her chin.
The hint of defiance in her voice made him smile despite himself. "You can't change."
"I hope I never do."
For a brief moment, they shared a silence filled with the sound of crickets and the wind through the trees. Then Aurelia spoke again, her tone quieter.
"Malion… I need your help."
His gaze sharpened. "With what?"
"Escaping."
He blinked. "Escaping the royal guards?"
"Escaping everything," she whispered. "Help me leave this place. I don't care where I end up. There are plenty of girls in the capital who'd give anything to marry the King. Let one of them have the honor."
A shadow of a smirk touched his lips. "You think marriage to the King is an honor?"
"Isn't that what they say?"
He looked away, eyes glinting with something unreadable. "They say many things."
"Then help me," she pleaded. "You've always known the forest better than anyone. You could lead me out of Velmire. To the mountains. Or to the coast. Anywhere."
Malion's expression hardened. "And leave your family to face the wrath of the crown?"
Her shoulders stiffened. "He wouldn't dare."
He took a step closer, his voice turning quiet but sharp. "You think the King is merciful?"
"I think he's human," she retorted, though her confidence faltered.
He gave a low, humorless laugh. "You've never seen what a crown does to a man...and I should say you have faith in a man you dread."
Her breath caught. "Why are you defending him, Malion? You sound like—like you know him."
He paused. Just a heartbeat too long.
"I don't," he said finally. "But I know power. And I know what happens when people defy it."
"You speak as if you've worn it," she said bitterly.
He smiled faintly, but there was no warmth in it. "Maybe once."
Her frustration cracked into a desperate whisper. "Why are you on his side? You've always been the one person I could talk to freely, and now you're speaking like one of his soldiers!"
"I'm not on his side," he said, voice low, almost pleading. "I'm on yours. That's why I'm telling you this."
"Then tell me what I should do!" she burst out. "Because I can't go back there. I can't marry him!"
"Sometimes," Malion said softly, "we don't get to choose the storms that find us."
Aurelia's eyes shimmered with unshed tears. "Then I'll make my own path through it."
He stared at her — at her trembling hands, her wild hair tangled with leaves, her stubborn chin lifted toward the stars — and something inside him twisted painfully.
"You're going to regret this," he murmured.
"I already do," she whispered back, smiling faintly. "But freedom's worth a little regret."
He sighed deeply, raking a hand through his hair. "There's an abandoned watchtower to the east. You can hide there until morning. After that… we'll figure something out."
Her eyes widened. "You'll really help me?"
"Against my better judgment, yes."
Relief broke over her face like sunlight. "Thank you, Malion."
He gave a short nod. "Come on. The forest isn't safe this far out."
As they walked, the silence between them grew softer. The path was narrow and lit only by the moon, the trees closing in like old sentinels. Aurelia walked close to him, her arm occasionally brushing his.
"Malion?" she asked quietly.
"Yes?"
"Do you believe people can change their fate?"
He hesitated, then said, "Only if they're willing to pay the price."
She looked up at him, frowning slightly. "And what price did you pay?"
His lips curved into a faint, rueful smile. "Everything."
They stopped at a slope overlooking a half-ruined tower, its stone walls half-swallowed by ivy. The air smelled of old rain and moss.
"This is it," he said. "You'll be safe here until dawn."
Aurelia turned to him. "Will you stay?"
He hesitated again. "I shouldn't."
"But you will," she said softly, as if already knowing.
He exhaled, defeated. "Fine. I'll keep watch outside."
As she walked toward the doorway, she turned back once more. "Malion?"
He met her gaze.
"Thank you. For coming after me."
He held her eyes for a moment, his voice barely above a whisper. "You don't have to thank me, Aurelia."
"Why not?"
"Because I'd always come for you."
Her heart stuttered, and she quickly looked away before he could see her blush. Inside, she found a spot by the wall and curled up, exhaustion finally dragging her under.
Outside, Malion leaned against a tree, staring up at the clouded moon.
When he'd first heard that she leaped from the royal carriage, part of him wanted to laugh. The other part wanted to tear apart the world that had made her afraid of him.
He brushed a hand across his face, his thoughts heavy.
She didn't know.
She couldn't know.
And yet, as he listened to her breathing steady through the cracks in the stone, King Malion of Velmire — the man the kingdom feared — found himself doubting for the first time in years.
Afraid not of war, or rebellion, or betrayal.
But of the moment she would discover who he truly was.
But that wasn't far off because sometimes fate works in a mysterious way.