Cerena was carried to the Emperor’s chambers. The master of the household gently laid her upon the bed and summoned a healer, who tended to her wound, fortunately nothing serious.

  Watching from a distance, the Emperor remained silent, deep in thought. Both unsettled by the earlier events and embarrassed by his unwavering gaze, Cerena could not bring herself to speak.

  When the healer had finished, the two men left the room without a word.

  Alone and exhausted, Cerena curled up in bed and closed her eyes, seeking sleep. Yet the images she had seen only moments before haunted her, and her heart refused to calm.

  She felt that from the very day she had first set foot in the palace, she had been constantly watched and judged; that every hardship she had endured had been but another trial to shape her path. For a long time, she had felt that she had been nothing more than a mere tool to harden Owen, then a lure to draw him back to the palace. The Emperor had harmed her, that was a fact; yet she was beginning to believe that things had truly changed.

  It was as though, since her return, he had changed utterly. Perhaps Owen’s absence could partially explain it, but it was not sufficient. He had harmed her no more, nor had he touched her without her consent, nor threatened her in any way; he even showed gentleness toward her. And today, he had even killed for her.

  She knew nothing of her assailants: their claims, their objectives. Some time ago, she might have still preferred to leave with them rather than remain longer at the palace. She felt alone, often unsettled, full of uncertainties.

  Yet the Captain had risked his life for her today, and she had feared misfortune would befall him. The guards—whom she did not even know—had died before her eyes, coldly, solely to protect her. And those masked men, ready to risk their lives to capture her.

  She felt that the entire palace was a storm in the heart of which she was caught, one she could neither control nor understand. And nothing had ever shaken her so profoundly.

  When she closed her eyes, she saw again the blood and lifeless bodies, and the terrifying gaze of the Emperor. She heard the sounds of battle, the clash of weapons, the groans of men falling in combat.

  She no longer suffered physically, yet a sharp pain gripped her chest. A shiver ran through her body. She felt her heart tighten at these thoughts, and hours passed without her finding rest.

  She now knew she was safe. Yet deep within… she was afraid. Though she knew not of what.

  ???

  A moment that seemed an eternity passed. The rays of the sun, which had filtered through the windows only hours earlier, now yielded to darkness. A few chandeliers had been lit.

  Cerena did not hear the bedroom door open, yet she saw light from the corridor illuminate the far end of the room. Her heart pounding, she feared yet another unwelcome encounter. Clasping her limbs close to her body, she squeezed her eyes shut, hoping to banish the intruder.

  Moments later, she felt no movement around her. Opening her eyes cautiously, she jumped as she suddenly saw the Emperor, a few steps away, arms crossed, his gaze fixed upon hers.

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  She sprang back abruptly, recoiling, and sat in the middle of the bed. Short of breath, she stared at him for a long moment before he finally spoke.

  “I wished not to disturb thee. I shall depart.”

  He prepared to leave. She flinched, and then suddenly, she understood.

  “No, wait!” Cerena called. “Please…”

  He stopped and cast her a glance. Still seated on the bed, she continued, her voice trembling:

  “Please… do not leave me… stay…”

  She understood in that instant what she had feared. She lowered her eyes.

  “Stay here, with me… please.”

  He remained still for several seconds, then approached and sat at the edge of the bed. Cerena moved closer and seated herself beside him.

  “I do not want… to be alone anymore…”

  He still looked at her in silence. She sighed, placing her hand over her heart as if to soothe her racing pulse and the lingering ache within her chest.

  “Art thou in pain?” he asked.

  She shook her head gently.

  “I’m fine… but… I’m scared.”

  “Thou hast naught to fear henceforth. I assure thee.”

  “No, it’s not that…”

  She turned to him, drew a deep breath, and took his hand, placing it upon her heart at the same time, declaring:

  “I need you.”

  She paused, considering for a moment. She could no longer retreat. Biting her lip, she continued:

  “I give you my permission.”

  Her heart pounded violently, the pain intensifying beyond bearing; she struggled to breathe.

  Slowly, Cerena released his hand, which the Emperor allowed to glide to her cheek. Their faces drew nearer, and he kissed her tenderly, without breaking his gaze.

  With a gentleness she had not known, he gradually leaned her back, laying her beside him.

  Short of breath, Cerena allowed the Emperor, looming above her, to caress every inch of her body, awakening each of her senses in turn.

  A shiver ran through her. It was not her first time with him. Yet it felt so. She had never experienced anything like this before with him. She had never felt anything but fear. Even when they had been close before, it had been only mechanical gestures, performed out of necessity. But this time, it was different.

  She felt his breath and his warmth upon her skin, and the beating of his heart. His fingers were no longer those that inflicted pain, but those that brought comfort. She no longer feared him, but his absence. She no longer dreaded his anger, only that he might abandon her. She no longer wanted him to leave; she wanted him.

  Their bodies drew closer with each passing moment until they met. The solitude she had felt until then finally vanished, giving way to a peace she had not known for a very long time. She now held the certainty that he would not abandon her.