Isa’s smile softened, something fond and a little sad settling in her eyes. “Hey,” she said gently, squeezing Emilia’s hand, “that throne was never what made any of us matter. You don’t have to be a backup anything to be important.” She glanced back toward the ballroom, then returned her gaze to her sister. “You get to choose your life, Em. With Miles. With whoever you want to be. I’ll handle the crown.” A quiet beat. “Just promise me one thing?” Her thumb brushed Emilia’s knuckles. “Don’t disappear on me again. We’ve already lost enough.” --end
end

















