The night had grown late when the rain finally stopped, leaving the rose garden, once vibrant with the memories of Fitran and Sheena's dance, now blanketed in dew, which created a calm and mysterious atmosphere. The familiar fragrance of flowers had faded; only the scent of damp earth rose into the air, imparting a deep sense of peace and tranquility. Each droplet of dew hung from the leaves, as if holding its breath, soaking into the profound silence that enveloped the garden.
Inside the quiet room, candlelight danced softly on the stone walls. Heavy gray silk curtains draped down, trapping warmth within. Darkness and light intertwined, creating an intimate ambiance, as if time had paused just for the two of them.
Sheena stood before the window, clad in a delicate white nightgown that captivated with its simplicity, feeling smooth against her skin. Her back was exposed, with moonlight enveloping her like a shimmering silver shawl. Her long black hair cascaded down to her waist, partially concealing the ancient family spell tattoo on her shoulder—a symbol of power that only she bore. In her heart, a repressed longing blossomed, coupled with a deep desire to share both the burdens and the pain that had haunted her for so long.
Fitran approached slowly, his footsteps silent on the blue carpet. After finishing his evening attire, his eyes remained fixed on Sheena's figure. The distance between them seemed to vibrate, radiating an unspoken weight of emotions, caught between doubt and hope.
"Sheena," he called softly, his voice trembling gently and filled with sincerity, filling the silent space with hope.
However, Sheena did not turn, her gaze fixed outward as if searching the night sky for answers. "I have chosen that crown, but I have not chosen myself," she declared, the weight of her words heavy with significance.
Her voice slipped out like a broken whisper, revealing a deep fear—she was afraid of losing herself in the hopes of others.
Fitran moved closer and stood behind her. His hand touched Sheena's shoulder, his rough yet warm fingers soothing her cold skin. He felt Sheena's heartbeat quicken, signaling the anxiety she could not hide. You don't need to decide tonight. Just allow me to hold you, as the man who loves you, not as your subject," he said, his voice vibrating with hope. There was sincerity in his embrace; he wanted to be her protector, affirming that love could overcome any obstacle. In his heart, he prayed to save Sheena from the burden that gnawed at her soul.
Sheena closed her eyes as tears streamed down her cheeks, signaling the conflict between hope and fear raging within her soul. In the stillness of the night, each drop held the weight of a painful past.
"If I get pregnant, the world will condemn our child as the unwanted heir to a power unlovable. They will steal its childhood just as they stole mine," her voice trembled with deep uncertainty, emphasizing the heavy burden she bore—the lingering echoes of her own traumatic past. "But if I don't choose you tonight, I'm afraid the world will snatch that chance from me too, leaving me with no other option."
Fitran whispered softly, his voice like the gentle caress of the night breeze, "I won't let anyone dictate our fate." There was determination in his eyes, piercing through the shadows of doubt enveloping them.
Sheena turned away, fighting to suppress her emotions.
Her violet eyes shimmered softly, reflecting the moonlight that filtered through the curtain. Yet behind that glow, there was a deep anxiety. She gazed at Fitran's face as if memorizing it once more, trying to assure herself that this moment wasn't just a dream.
"Then... tonight I choose you, before the world speaks again."
They drew closer, their breaths mingling in the cold air, creating warmth unattainable from the outside world. The distance between them shrank, as if time paused momentarily to create space for their profound feelings.
Sheena grasped Fitran's neck, pulling him into her embrace, feeling the gentle thrum of his heartbeat, overpowering the noises of the outside world. Their lips met—initially hesitant, but then deepening with certainty. This kiss was unlike the nights before; there was a sense of loss that yearned to be redeemed, and a fear that begged to be erased. In that kiss, it felt as if all wounds were acknowledged, and they offered each other the strength that had long been lost.
Slowly, Fitran lifted Sheena's body into his arms, his heart racing with tension as her white gown slipped from her shoulder and fell to the floor like vanishing mist—a symbol of everything she had held back and contained within. The candlelight caressed the contours of her body, revealing old scars on her back and arms—remnants of a harsh and challenging past that sculpted her resilience. The wounds she had once hidden from the world stood as testament to the struggles and sacrifices that shaped her into the formidable woman she had become.
Fitran gently kissed the scars one by one, sincerity in his eyes mixed with pain. "You are beautiful because you have endured all the trials that have obstructed the path you were meant to walk." Each kiss felt like a protective spell, attempting to heal and safeguard, granting the sense of security that both had longed for.
Sheena closed her eyes, feeling the warmth of love flowing from each touch as she reflected, "I only endure because of you." Her thoughts drifted to all the life-changing moments, questioning the fate that had constrained her. They lay on the large bed, silk sheets spread beneath them. With her delicate fingers, Sheena traced Fitran's chest, feeling the scars there—wounds from battles, betrayal, and magic that had nearly erased him from the world. Each touch made her heart race, a reminder that true love can bring healing even from profound pain.
"I don't want us to be symbols of wounds anymore," she said, her voice trembling, conveying the emotional burden she carried and emphasizing her longing to experience a love that transcends mere markers of suffering and instead embraces healing and hope.
Fitran held her hand, warm and strong. "Tonight, we become a symbol of hope," he replied, his eyes radiating confidence. He felt the profound love entwined between them, overcoming all the traumas of the past. As Fitran drew closer, Sheena took a sharp breath, suddenly aware that this was a new beginning. Her fingers clenched the sheets, her body accepting the warmth that she had long withheld, as if all the sorrow and fear evaporated in this embrace.
There was no pressure. No urgency; each movement bore witness to the commitment they made to understand and heal one another.
They moved slowly, as if afraid that if they rushed, the night would end before all their wounds had healed.
Sheena wrapped her arms around Fitran's back, pulling him closer, as if yearning to merge with the soul she had longed for.
"Does it hurt?" Fitran whispered, concerned as he noticed the tears streaming down Sheena's cheeks. His worry surged in each word, reflecting a man ready to fight for this love.
Sheena shook her head, tears continuing to flow, but this time, those tears were symbols of hope, not sadness.
"No. For the first time in my life... it doesn't hurt," she said, her voice trembling yet filled with strength.
They moved together, their breaths merging in perfect synchronization. The kisses exchanged on lips, forehead, and cheeks served as affirmations of their promises—a symphony of love resonating in the quiet room. Fitran's fingers traced Sheena's face, his touch an effort to memorize every detail as he spelled out love in the softness of his gestures. His movements, gentle and filled with tenderness, wove sincerity into the very fabric of the night.
"Sheena, you are my home," he said with conviction, gratitude flooding his heart. And Sheena replied, "If that's the case, I won't let this home fall," her voice full of determination, as if declaring a love ready to fight.
Outside, the wind swept through the rose garden, adding to the poetic atmosphere of the night. The flowers that once withered now sprouted new buds, symbolizing hope even though the night was still cold, promising that beauty could be found after darkness. Every second in this moment imparted valuable lessons, and in the tranquility of the night, their love blossomed, like a rose blooming, strong despite being born from deep wounds and rich in meaning.
Their movements quickened, wrapped in soft sighs and whispers that only they could hear. Fitran gazed into Sheena's eyes as they reached their peak, feeling her heartbeat racing in the warmth of the moment. In that emotional gaze, waves of understanding flowed between them.
"Sheena... if the world forces us, I will fight against it for you," he declared, his voice trembling with strong resolve, as if binding a promise between them.
Sheena leaned in closer, whispering, "If I had to choose between the world and you, I would burn the world myself." Tears welled in the corners of her eyes, symbolizing the deep pain and desire within her. In her gaze, there was a mixture of courage and fear, creating an emotional tension that intensified their intimacy.
Their bodies tensed together, then released all the burdens that had haunted them for so long. The scent of roses wafting around them seemed to conspire with the spirit of their blazing love.
In that moment, they were no longer a queen and a knight.
Not politicians and protectors.
Not symbols of the people and symbols of war. They were simply two souls bound by a sincerity that could not be torn apart by the outside world.
Sheena felt as if she were a bird flying freely in Fitran's embrace, with nothing capable of obstructing her genuine feelings to protect one another.
They were just Sheena and Fitran.
A wounded woman and a man vowing to heal her. In those fleeting moments, all the world's problems felt distant, as if time had stopped, leaving only love to envelop them.
As the wave of desire subsided, they remained in each other's embrace, allowing the warmth of their bodies to weave a comforting bond. Fitran wrapped Sheena in a cozy blanket, kissing the crown of her head, feeling the gentle vibrations of their pure love.
"You're not alone anymore," he said, his voice filled with hope, as Sheena leaned her head against Fitran's chest, savoring the steady beat of his heart.
"I'm scared..." Sheena whispered, her voice trembling, revealing a deep vulnerability.
"What are you afraid of?" Fitran replied, attentively delving into the heart of the woman he cherished, sensing the heavy burden resting on her shoulders and determined to share that weight.
"What if I'm pregnant... I'm afraid our child will suffer because of our choices." Tears began to flow again, wetting her soft face as she imagined a challenging life for their child.
Fitran kissed her forehead, a gentle yet meaningful touch, as if to reassure Sheena of their promise for the future. "Then let's create a world where they won't suffer; a world shaped by our own will together, not dictated by the desires of nobles or ancient sorcerers," he said, his vow emerging like a soft incantation, infusing their hearts with newfound strength and hope.
Sheena nodded, tears streaming down her cheeks once again, each drop a glimmer of hope for the future.
"I want our child to be born in a world of my choosing, not one imposed by unfair and inhumane traditions," Sheena replied, her voice thick with emotion. Within this hope lay an uncontainable desire for freedom and the sincere love in their hearts, yearning to create a life of promise—a world markedly different from their own challenging experiences.
Fitran gazed at the ceiling, then turned his yearning and hopeful eyes towards Sheena's face. In the dimly lit room, hope and determination appeared to unite. His heart raced, each beat seeming to urge Sheena to accept the meaningful promise he was about to declare. "Then I promise. Tomorrow, I will initiate the Pact of New Will, a law that will protect our child. No one will be able to claim or take our child's rights. Not the noble families, not the Council of Magic, and no one else." His voice was firm, yet beneath it lay an uncertainty that only he could perceive.
Sheena kissed his lips once more, a gentle movement filled with love, binding a promise between them in a timeless moment. "Together, we are the ones writing a new destiny," she proclaimed, her heart trembling, and for a brief moment, the weight of the world felt lighter under the warmth of the love they shared amidst the beauty of the fragrant flowers enveloping them.
As the first light of dawn broke through the curtains of the room, the soft light touched the faces of Sheena and Fitran, who were sleeping in each other's embrace, creating gentle shadows around them. They were wrapped in a sweet silence, like eternity captured in these precious seconds, as the world outside felt far beyond reach.
In the lower garden, among the withering roses, a red bud bloomed. The bud stood gracefully amidst the surrounding sadness, a symbol that from loss, their love nurtured new life. In enduring hope, it was evident that every struggle they faced, every sacrifice they made, held beauty that continued to flourish, just like a flower daring to challenge the gloom and striving to reveal beauty amid emptiness and despair.