a sin called devotion zayne li
pairings: zayne li x non! mc reader
cw: heavy angst / no comfort (yes..), tragedy, major character death (read to know who 🙀), blood, emotional trauma, class/status discrimination, classism, lots of crying lol (i cried too while writing this ngl), self-deprecation, arranged marriage mentioned, misunderstandings, family neglect, and oh and did i say heavy angst? doesn't follow any storyline of the game. 13.8k words c:
a/n: i'm back guys.. BELATED HAPPY NEW YEAR LOL. i started writing this last dec and finally.. i love zayne so much it hurts hehe anyway! here's my gift for y'all. HAPPY reading :))
now playing 💿: kalapastangan by fitterkarma ( hello to my filo readers :3 )
" i will die with a smile, if you are by my side. i will live with regret, if one day i cannot make you smile. it is a sin not to love you, it is foolishness not to think of you. if the world were to suddenly end, you are the first i would look for. "
it was, by all accounts, a beautiful day.
zayne surveyed the small city as morning settled upon it, sunlight spilling over stone roads and wooden stalls.
despite the early hour, the streets were already alive. merchants calling out, workers hurrying along, doors opening to begin another day.
as he passed, some greeted him with familiarity. others bowed, stiff and respectful.
and a few, upon recognizing him, lowered their gaze and stepped aside, fear plain upon their faces.
rumors painted him as cold and ruthless.
zayne neither denied nor corrected them. he had long since stopped caring for what people chose to believe.
“and the other side?” he asked calmly.
“lord louis is overseeing it.” alfred replied.
“good.” zayne nodded. “then let us return—"
he had just reached the carriage when a sudden commotion broke the air.
voices rose and footsteps hurried as crowd began to gather not far from where they stood.
zayne halted. “what is that?”
“it seems something has occurred,” alfred said.
but before they could move closer, the crowd began to disperse, people leaving one by one, uneasy, and whispering.
“enough,” a clear voice rang out. “leave. all of you.”
zayne’s attention sharpened.
at the center stood a cloaked figure. beneath her, a small child trembled on the ground.
suddenly, a woman knelt hurriedly.
“we beg your forgiveness, your highness. our child did not know what she was doing.” the woman said, kneeling on the ground.
you exhaled softly and rose, brushing the dust from your cloak before helping the child to her feet.
the little girl immediately rushed into her mother’s arms.
“please, stand,” you said gently, guiding the woman up. you then crouched before the child.
from within your sleeve, you drew a piece of gold and pressed it into the child’s hands.
“your highness, you need not —”
“it is fine,” you murmured, cutting the woman off and your gaze softened as you met the child’s eyes. “listen well. taking what is not yours is wrong. if you desire something, you must ask for it. do you understand?”
the child nodded.
“i cannot hear you.”
“yes, princess,” she said quickly.
a faint smile curved your lips. “i am no princess, foolish child.” you gently pinched her nose.
the mother bowed deeply. “i will ensure this never happens again. you have our gratitude, your highness.”
you inclined your head. “you are dismissed.”
you watched them leave, the child laughing, the mother holding her close. your smile lingered, though sadness flickered beneath it.
how fortunate the child is to have a mother like that.
footsteps broke your thoughts as you stiffened. someone was approaching.
without hesitation, you pulled your hood over your head and turned away, retreating in the opposite direction.
zayne froze, his hand lifting instinctively, as though to stop you, and realizing himself, he cleared his throat and straightened.
“who was that, alfred?” he asked.
“that was lady (name),” alfred replied. “the youngest daughter of the (L/N) family.”
“the (L/N) family..” a faint, unreadable smile crossed zayne’s lips. alfred noticed, it was subtle, but unmistakable.
“alfred,” zayne continued, “did we not receive an invitation from them?”
“you already declined it, young master.”
zayne turned toward the carriage. “make the preparations."
alfred sighed quietly and followed. the young master can be quite troublesome.
.
.
.
“is something the matter, young master?”
zayne blinked, alfred’s voice pulling him back from his thoughts.
“…nothing,” he replied, yet his gaze continued to wander, drifting across the hall as though searching for something, or someone.
“i have heard,” alfred added carefully, “that lady (name) does not attend such gatherings.”
zayne’s hand paused mid-motion. without a word, he reached for his napkin, dabbing at his lips before standing.
“why did you not inform me of this sooner?”
alfred inclined his head.
“you never inquired, young master.” zayne exhaled, displeased, though whether with alfred or himself, he could not say.
—
the carriage came into view as they stepped outside.
“young master,” alfred called.
zayne did not respond.
“young master.”
this time, alfred stopped and gestured somewhere ahead as zayne followed his gaze.
there, by the yard of the (L/N) estate, you knelt upon the grass, a small bundle of fur pressed close as you fed a stray cat.
alfred quietly excused himself. zayne hesitated, then carefully, he approached.
he cleared his throat, and the sound made the cat startled and fled.
you stiffened, disappointment flickering across your face as you rose.
“you frightened my cat,” you said flatly, though your words faltered the moment you saw it was him.
“as i recall,” zayne replied, keeping his tone even, “animals are not permitted within the estate grounds.”
your brows knit together. “and who are you to remind me of such rules?”
“zayne,” he said. “of the li family.”
he extended his hand. you stared at it for a brief moment before sighing and accepting, your grip light, fleeting.
“i.. i am (name).” you responded and withdrew your hand at once.
li family.
the name carried weight, authority and power. standing before him, you could not deny the faint unease curling in your chest.
“if there is nothing further,” you said, bowing politely, “i shall take my leave.”
you stepped past him, but then his hand moved before he could stop himself. your wrist was warm beneath his grasp.
you glanced down at where he held you, then slowly raised your gaze.
“is it not improper,” you asked, “to touch a lady without her consent?”
his hand fell away at once.
“my apologies,” he said, clearing his throat.
“if you require something from my family,” you continued, withdrawing your hand, “i will be of little use.” you inclined your head once more. “please excuse me.”
you walked away, leaving him standing alone by the gates.
zayne did not follow. he only watched until you disappeared from sight, and wondered, for reasons he could not yet understand, why the absence felt heavier than the silence.
—
“where were you.” the question was not asked. it was delivered.
your father did not look at you when he spoke, his attention fixed on his plate as the sound of cutlery continued around the table.
“do you understand,” he said calmly, “how many guests specifically requested your presence today?”
“i apologize, father.”
“for what?” he replied. “your apologies have lost all meaning.” the clink of porcelain echoed as he set his spoon down.
“you were instructed to remain available,” he continued. “yet you were nowhere to be found. do you take some satisfaction in embarrassing this family?”
“i—”
“enough,” he said. “i am tired of excuses.”
your brother leaned back in his chair, regarding you with open disdain.
“honestly,” he said, “why do you insist on behaving like this?” you kept your eyes lowered.
“princess aurelia is your age,” he continued. “and yet she understands her role.” his gaze swept over you, slow and assessing. “she attends gatherings without complaint. she displays her evol with pride. the people admire her.”
he paused.
“and then there is you.”
the words were quiet, deliberate.
“you avoid appearances. you hide like a liability. and you possess nothing of value to compensate for it.” your fingers dug into your lap as he continued.
“compared to her,” your brother said flatly, “you are a failure.”
silence followed. not even your mother intervened as you looked at her, just enjoying her meal, probably in her own world right now.
you then rose from your seat.
“father,” you said, voice strained, “may i be excused—”
“sit.” the single word struck harder than any raised voice. you couldn't do anything but obey.
“you will finish your meal,” your father said, finally turning his gaze to you. “you will remain at this table until you remember what obedience looks like.”
your plate trembled beneath your hands.
“you were born into privilege,” he continued. “yet you contribute nothing. if not for blood,” he said, “you would have been discarded long ago.”
your vision swam as you stared at the food you could no longer see.
you had not chosen this body. you had not chosen this absence of power. but they spoke as if you had chosen to be wrong.
you wondered if being born without value meant you had never deserved to be born at all.
and later, when the doors were closed and the estate had fallen silent, you curled into yourself beneath the sheets.
the room felt too large, too empty. for the first time, you did not think of anything.
you only stared into the dark and wondered, quietly, and desperately, if tomorrow would be any different.
.
.
.
“i beg your pardon, your highness,” you said, stopping abruptly. “but are you following me?”
zayne halted. for a brief moment, he glanced around the street, as if only then noticing alfred’s absence.
the space beside him was empty, intentionally so as you crossed your arms.
“and what authority do you have,” he replied, “to assume such a thing?” he said, his tone composed. “i am merely overseeing the capital. a responsibility i shall inherit soon enough.” he said as you scoffed softly and turned away.
“very well. my apologies for assuming such things.” you said. “you may do as you please.” you then pulled the hood of your cloak over your head and began walking in the opposite direction.
“lady (name)—” he called, and you stopped.
“your highness.” you turned back to him, expression carefully blank. “i believe i have already made myself clear. should you require something from my family, you may direct your concerns to my father.”
you muttered something under your breath as you turned away again.
“it is not about your family.” he said, and your steps faltered. against your better judgment, you faced him once more.
he hesitated. “well—” zayne paused, as though weighing his words. his gaze remained fixed on you. “i was wondering whether the lady might care to share a simple dinner with me.”
silence fell. you stared at him, incredulous. then you exhaled, a short, disbelieving laugh.
“your highness,” you said dryly, “did you perhaps strike your head?”
you said, but he did not smile, he did not laugh. his expression remained unchanged, with serious intent.
the realization unsettled you as you cleared your throat.
“and what,” you asked quietly, “could someone of your standing possibly want with me?”
you did not wait for an answer. you only turned away once more.
“there are countless ladies more suitable,” you continued, your voice steady despite the weight in your chest. “women who are admired, powerful, and seen.” your hand tightened around your cloak, not sure if you were still speaking to him or yourself.
“to stand beside you,” you whispered, “would only remind me how small i already am.” you stopped yourself from saying more. “please,” you finished, “excuse me.”
you walked away, and zayne did not stop you.
as your figure disappeared into the crowd, he could only watch.
—
zayne handed his coat to alfred as he entered the estate.
“you are back earlier than expected, young master,” alfred said. “how did it go?”
“i was rejected.” the words left zayne calmly, too calmly.
a brief, unguarded sound escaped alfred before he could stop himself.
zayne glanced and glared at him.
“i apologize,” alfred said quickly, straightening. “that was inappropriate. i simply meant.. it is difficult to believe someone of your standing would be refused by a lady so far beneath you.”
“mind your words, alfred.”
“at once, young master.” he said, clearing his throat, voice more careful this time.
“perhaps the lady was simply considering what is best— for you as well.”
zayne did not respond. he only loosened his gloves, expression unreadable.
alfred hesitated, then continued carelessly.
“there are rumors,” he said, “that lady (name) does not possess an evol.”
zayne paused for a fraction of a second. then he shrugged.
“rumors remain rumors.” he said. “in any case,” zayne added, tone even, “i have no interest in entertaining such talk.”
a brief silence settled between them.
“in matters of alliance,” alfred continued, “someone like princess aurelia would be far more.. suitable. a match that benefits your future, young master.”
“enough,” he said simply.
alfred bowed deeply. “my apologies, young master.”
zayne dismissed him with a wave of his hand and continued down the corridor alone.
he told himself it meant nothing. that he had no reason to believe idle whispers. still, the thought returned, uninvited, of when such rumors had begun at all. they were spoken too easily, as if they had always existed.
the capital required constant oversight, that's why it was only natural that your paths crossed more than once.
he did not question why his gaze shifted before he was aware of it.
sometimes, he noticed you moving through the streets with your hood drawn low.
you never lingered. you walked as though every place was temporary. and it caught his attention. he found himself noticing small things instead.
the way you avoided crowded paths. how you stepped aside before others reached you. how you spoke little, even when addressed.
once, he saw you stop before a shop window, not to browse, but to wait. only after the street cleared did you move again. he frowned at that.
another time, he observed you in a conversation, choosing your words carefully. he told himself he was merely assessing character.
after all, it was prudent to understand those connected to influential families.
yet he began to recognize you without effort. before his mind registered it, his eyes already had.
he noticed when you were absent, he noticed when you appeared. the realization unsettled him, not because of what it meant, but because he had not chosen it.
once, as he turned a corner, he nearly crossed paths with you.
you halted, looked at him, and inclined your head in a brief, respectful bow, then you passed him.
you did not look back, and zayne stood there longer than necessary.
he did not follow. he told himself that what lingered afterward was irritation. that curiosity was harmless. that attention did not imply attachment.
and yet, each time he saw you again, the space you occupied seemed clearer than everything around it.
he did not call it interest, he certainly did not call it affection.
but something was shifting quietly, and zayne, for all his discipline, did not notice the moment observation became affection.
—
zayne did not know how it had come to this.
you were in his arms, your face pressed against his chest as your shoulders shook.
it had yet to sink in, that you were here, trusting him with something so unguarded.
it had been nothing more than a routine night patrol. he had not expected to find you in the darkest part of the city, alone, and crying. he hadn’t even finished calling your name.
the moment his hand brushed your shoulder, you turned and wrapped your arms around him, as if your body had decided before your mind could stop it.
and zayne froze at that. so carefully, he settled a hand against your arm. he did not speak. he only let you cry, a handkerchief already clenched in his other hand as he rubbed slow, grounding circles, as if afraid that any sudden movement might shatter you.
time passed, he wasn’t sure how long, and eventually, your breathing steadied. you pulled away at once, stepping back as if you had crossed a line.
“i’m sorry,” you said quietly. “that was.. improper.”
before he could respond, he was already holding the handkerchief out to you. his name was embroidered neatly along the corner.
you stared at it for a moment. then, without warning, he stepped closer again.
“would you take it,” he said, voice low, “or shall i wipe them myself?”
a soft, disbelieving laugh slipped past you before you accepted it, pressing the cloth to your face.
“what happened?” he asked.
the question made the night fall silent. even your breathing stilled.
what had happened? you searched for an answer and found none. you had been walking, you remembered that much, and then everything had simply become too heavy to carry.
“i don’t know,” you admitted, voice hoarse. “i think.. i think I’ve lost it.” you said, fingers tightened around the handkerchief.
and then the words began to spill, unplanned, as if zayne is just one of the ghosts you had spoke in your mind.
“i just—” you laughed softly, bitterly. “i keep wondering when i’ll finally be enough for someone. you know what i mean?” you said and looked at him, only to look away just as quickly.
of course he wouldn’t. he had grown up complete, and wanted.
"i suppose you wouldn’t,” you murmured and straightened, smoothing your cloak as if nothing had happened.
“i’ll have this returned by morning, your highness.”
“there’s no need to rush,” he replied.
“thank you,” you said, meeting his gaze with a small smile.
you? smiling at him? it caught him completely off guard.
“w—well, i—” he faltered, a hand lifting to the back of his neck as he looked away. “It’s dangerous to be out alone at this hour. allow me to escort you—”
“that won’t be necessary.” your tone shifted politely. “i won’t be going home just yet,” you added under your breath.
“then where are you headed at this time of the night?” he asked, and you avoided his eyes.
“i’m afraid that is none of your concern, your highness.”
because as much as you wanted someone beside you, just for a little longer, you had learned better than to ask. you had always handled things on your own.
you could do it again.
“please,” you said quietly, already stepping back, “excuse me.”
he remained where he stood long after you had disappeared into the dark.
the street was empty again, too empty.
only then did he lower his gaze to his hand, the one that had rested against your arm. his fingers curled slowly, feeling the absence where warmth had been moments ago.
it unsettled him.
he had offered comfort without thought, without reason. zayne exhaled. it meant nothing, he told himself.
and yet, his hand did not unclench for a long while.
.
.
.
“in matters of alliance, someone like princess aurelia would be far more suitable.”
the words surfaced without warning.
zayne’s gaze rested on the documents spread across his desk, though he had stopped reading them long ago.
then a knock came.
he blinked, the present snapping back into place as the door of his study opened.
“apologies, your highness,” louis said as the door opened. “i knocked several times. you did not answer.”
“it’s fine,” zayne replied. “what is it?”
“her grace has arrived,” louis said. “she is requesting your presence.”
-
the balcony was quiet when he arrived. his mother sat at the table, serene as ever. across from her sat princess aurelia’s mother, equally composed.
and across her is aurelia herself.
she looked up as he approached, hands steady around her teacup, her expression calm as ever.
“zayne,” his mother said, gesturing to the empty chair beside Aurelia. “come and sit.”
“it’s good to see you, mother,” he said, bowing before taking his seat.
“i called you here because our guests wished to see you,” she explained as zayne inclined his head toward aurelia and her mother.
“you’ve grown quite handsome,” aurelia’s mother said with a smile. “time has certainly been kind to you.”
his mother smiled as well, though there was something deliberate in it. “time does not wait,” she said. “yiur father is growing old, and soon, the responsibilities he carries will be passed down to you.”
“i’ll be brief,” she said, folding her hands together. zayne listened.
“much of the responsibility will soon fall to you,” she continued. “the estates. the council matters. everything your father has carried until now.” she said. “and with that,” she added, “it is time you begin considering a wife.” the words settled heavily as he shifted uncomfortably
beside him, aurelia remained silent.
“we have spoken at length,” his mother said, nodding toward aurelia’s mother. “and we believe it would be wise to formalize an arrangement between our families.”
an alliance, a continuation, something suitable.
zayne opened his mouth to respond, but then, unbidden, a different image surfaced.
a smile had appeared before his eyes, as if it had slipped out.
your smile.
the thought struck him so suddenly that he faltered, just for a moment.
“what do you think?” his mother asked.
—
“mother.”
zayne’s voice came out quieter than he intended, as if he were a child again, standing before her with scraped knees and unfinished lessons. yet, she did not turn to face him.
“i am disappointed, zayne,” his mother said calmly. “i hope you would reconsider.” she said as he lowered his gaze.
“the truth is—” he began, then stopped.
his fingers curled slowly at his side.
for a brief moment, doubt settled in his chest. he was not ready. not for vows. there were still things he did not know. still conversations left unspoken.
still you.
when his mother finally turned toward him, he lifted his head.
“there is someone i wish to marry,” zayne said at last, not with certainty, but with resolve, and her eyes widened.
she stepped closer at once, surprise quickly giving way to something almost relieved. “is that so?” she asked, a smile threatening to form. “tell me— who is she?”
zayne looked down at his hand his mother was holding. he hesitated for a bit before he finally looked at her.
“the youngest daughter of the (L/N) family.”
the change was immediate.
his mother took a step back, her expression shifting, not to anger, not to refusal, but to something he couldn't explain.
“son..” she murmured.
she reached for him, pulling him into an embrace that lingered longer than usual, as though she were holding onto something slipping through her fingers.
“not yet,” zayne added, his voice barely above a breath. “i am still trying to win her heart.” still trying to understand it himself.
she did not answer right away.
when she finally spoke, her voice was low and careful.
“zayne,” she said, almost regretfully, “i do not wish to say this.” her hands rested against his arms, steady but hesitant.
“but i am afraid that the youngest daughter.. would not be suitable for you.”
the words were gentle, but their meaning was not.
—
“can’t sleep?” zayne’s father murmured when he felt the mattress shift beside him.
his wife exhaled quietly.
“our son.”
he turned his head toward her. “what about him? did he refuse the succession?”
“no,” she said. “it’s.. it's worse.” there was a pause. “he wants to marry her.” and then silence.
“who?” he asked at last.
“the (L/N) family's youngest daughter.”
for a brief moment, zayne’s father looked genuinely surprised. then his shoulders eased as he sighed, staring up at the ceiling.
“our son can choose whoever he wishes to marry,” he said carefully. “that much is beyond our control now.”
“but she has no evol,” his wife whispered. "didn't we already declined the alliance years ago? how come, they still found each other?"
the words sat heavily between them.
"that's something we couldn't control. it's destined to happen." his father said.
she turned to him, searching his face.
“you truly think so?” he nodded slowly.
“i never wanted to force zayne into a marriage he does not want. i was only thinking of the future of our family.”
“and our son?” she asked quietly.
he smiled faintly. “i know him. with or without a wife, he will find his own way.”
you couldn’t quite place it, only that after your first encounter with him, something in you began to ache.
it didn’t demand to be named. it simply lingered, heavy and familiar, settling in your chest every time you saw him from afar.
you watched him often. not intentionally, not in a way that could be called longing. it just.. happened.
across corridors, through open balconies, at gatherings where you stood at the edges and he stood where everyone naturally gravitated toward.
zayne li was easy to notice. you told yourself it meant nothing. that admiration was harmless, especially when kept at a distance. especially when it was never acted upon.
yet every time your eyes found him, there was that same, quiet pull, as if you were remembering something you were never allowed to keep.
you never approached him. you learned early that wanting did not grant permission.
when he invited you to a small dinner, the brief, startled happiness that bloomed in your chest frightened you more than it should have. it was gone just as quickly, replaced by the familiar weight of reality.
standing beside him made you feel small. not because he made you feel that way, but because you remembered how little space you were allowed to take.
you told yourself that if not for the noble blood in your veins, he would have never noticed you at all. that whatever attention he gave you was temporary, circumstantial, easily redirected.
so you stayed where you belonged. at a distance, because watching was safer than hoping.
and that was how it ended with you in a dark alley, the night heavy around you, everything you had been holding in finally spilling over.
you didn’t know when it happened. only that at some point, standing still became too much.
when you felt a hand on your shoulder, you looked up without thinking. as if you had done it before.
you didn’t mean to step closer. you didn’t mean to reach for him. but the moment your eyes met his, restraint failed you. you embraced him.
it was brief. you knew how improper it was, and yet it felt terrifyingly right. his touch was careful, unsure, as if he didn’t want to frighten you away.
and for the first time, you allowed yourself to cry in someone’s presence. not because he asked, but because he stayed.
you felt seen in a way you hadn’t in years, and it scared you enough to pull back the moment you could breathe again.
the whispers returned immediately. you couldn’t stay. you couldn’t let him see too much. if he ever knew what you truly were, you were certain his gaze would change.
everyone did.
so you did what you had always done. you stepped away.
when you left him that night, you didn’t go far.
you hid, watching from the shadows as he stood there for a moment longer than necessary, as if unsure whether he should follow.
you pressed his handkerchief to your chest.
loving him, if that was what this was, had always meant watching from afar, and letting him walk away.
—
what’s wrong?” a voice asked, startling you, heart leaping into your throat. before you could think, you pushed yourself up and ran.
“h–hey!” the boy called, but you didn’t turn back.
you didn’t stop until you reached the garden of your residence. your legs finally gave in, and you sat on the grass, hugging one knee to your chest. the wound stung when you moved it.
you looked down. your knee was scraped, skin broken and red.
you leaned forward, blowing softly over it. it still hurts. maybe more than it should have as tears blurred your vision.
“don’t cry.” the voice was quieter this time.
you looked up, the boy from earlier was standing there, a little out of breath, eyes wide with worry.
before you could tell him to leave, he sat down in front of you, close enough that your knees almost touched.
he reached into his pocket and pulled out a neatly folded white handkerchief.
“don’t!” you shook your head quickly, pressing your palm over the wound. “it’ll get dirty.” you said as he frowned, as if that hadn’t even crossed his mind.
“that’s okay,” he said. “it’s just a handkerchief.” he said and you watched him. “my mother says you have to clean wounds,” he continued gently. “or they get worse.”
carefully— so carefully, he moved your hand aside and you flinched when the cloth touched your skin.
“sorry,” he said right away, panic flickering in his eyes. “did I hurt you?” you nodded, small and embarrassed.
he slowed even more then, wiping around the wound instead of directly over it, blowing softly when you winced, as if that might help.
his brows were furrowed, lips pressed into a thin line, completely serious about it.
when he was done, he wrapped the handkerchief around your knee and tied it.
“there,” he said, relief clear in his voice. “it should feel better now.”
it did. not the wound, but your chest.
he stood and held his hand out to you without thinking twice.
“come on,” he said. “let’s find your nurse, okay?”
you stared at his hand for a moment before placing yours in it, and his hand was warm.
“and— um,” he added, glancing back at you with a shy smile, “i’m zayne, what’s your name?”
.
.
.
you woke up slowly, heart aching for reasons you couldn’t explain.
the feeling lingered as you sat up and crossed the room, opening a drawer you hadn’t touched in years. inside lay an old handkerchief.
you lifted it, fingers brushing over the familiar embroidery.
zayne.
your breath caught. your eyes drifted to the bedside table, where another handkerchief rested, his name stitched the same way.
you held both now.
one from when you were small enough to believe someone could care without reason. and one from last night.
your chest tightened. so he had always been like this.
you smiled, placing the handkerchief close to your chest. and somehow, maybe you were the only one who remembered.
—
"there you two are!" a maid’s cheerful voice broke through the quiet of the garden. she stepped between the two of you, her hands reaching out to catch yours and zayne’s, swinging them playfully.
"they’ve been looking for you both. it’s time for lunch."
as the three of you approached the dining area, the maid let go, bowing low as she retreated into the shadows of the hall.
you and zayne stood there for a moment, blinking at the bright light of the room, confused as you saw his mother gesturing to you with a gentle wave of her hand.
he nodded, a small smile playing on his lips as he took your hand in his, his grip firm and steady as he pulled you toward the table.
"where have you two been? didn’t i tell you not to run off, zayne?" his mother scolded him gently, though the look in her eyes was fond.
zayne simply scratched the back of his head, looking down at his boots.
"i apologize, mother."
"take your seat, the two of you," she said, smoothing the tablecloth.
it wasn't a rare occasion. if you counted correctly, the li family joined yours for a meal at least thrice a week.
back then, you were too young to understand the heavy conversations the adults had over wine and silver platters.
you only heard fragments of words like alliance and future. they were getting to know each other because of a plan, a plan that centered entirely on you and zayne.
in the future, when you both reached the right age, you were expected to step up together.
you didn't know what "stepping up" meant, but zayne seemed to understand.
every time his family visited, you were the first person he looked for. and being two years older, he had always been protective of you, standing a little taller whenever you were around, as if he were already practicing his role as your shield.
you had known him for nearly a year. your lives were woven together. and then, without warning, the visits stopped.
on a random day, the carriage with the li family crest simply didn't appear. and it never came back.
that was when the world turned cold. you never understood why your family started looking at you differently.
your mother, who used to spend every morning carefully tying your hair and humming to you, started dismissing you with a curt wave.
your father, who used to listen to your ramblings, began to ignore your requests, telling you that such things didn't matter anymore.
even your brother, who used to drag you away from zayne just to protect his only sister, changed.
he stopped playing. he stopped laughing. he focused entirely on his studies, looking past you as if you were a shadow on the wall.
it was only when you came of age that the crushing truth finally settled in your bones. you realized why zayne stopped coming. you realized why your family treated you like a guest they were waiting to leave.
you were nothing.
in a world that worshipped the evol, you were a useless child born with no power. you were discarded because you held no praise-worthy strength.
you were weak, and in the eyes of high-society families, the weak were invisible.
so you learned to know your place. you distanced yourself from the family that no longer wanted you, retreating into the estate’s library or your study room.
you stayed there for years, surrounded by dust and ink, teaching yourself everything the world refused to show you.
what else could you do when everyone had deprived you of a life?
and just as you felt you could finally handle the loneliness.. you saw him again.
zayne.
he was a man now, regal and powerful, carrying the weight of his family’s expectations with ease.
perhaps he didn't recognize you, and you told yourself that was fine. you were just kids back then, it was just a memory easily forgotten once you turn adult, once someone stopped caring about the past.
but you were the only one who remembered. you remembered that the alliance was supposed to be about the two of you.
you were supposed to be wedded to him.
but his family had found out you were powerless and decided you weren't the best option for their prodigy.
that is why you feel so small when he stands beside you. because compared to the man who was built to be powerful, you were the one who was built to be forgotten.
zayne stood before the head of the (L/N) household, posture straight, expression composed.
“i have come with a request,” he said.
your father regarded him. “if this concerns alliance or favor, it would be better discussed another time.”
“it does not,” zayne replied.
that alone drew a pause.
“i have heard,” he continued evenly, “that lady (name) is proficient in reading ancestral scripts, particularly those written in older dialects.”
your father’s lips thinned.
“that is hardly a skill worth troubling the li heir with,” he said. “and besides—” his gaze sharpened, “she has no evol.” the words were spoken plainly, casually, as if that settled everything.
but zayne did not react. “that is not what i asked,” he said and silence followed. “i am not requesting her strength,” zayne continued, voice calm, unyielding. “only her knowledge.”
your father scoffed lightly. “you have scholars for such matters.”
“i do,” zayne agreed. “none who have been able to read them.”
another pause, longer this time.
“she will only be assisting,” zayne added. “under supervision, and with your permission.”
your father studied him for a moment, something unreadable crossing his face, before he exhaled sharply.
“if you insist,” he said. “she has little else of use.”
zayne bowed.
“then i thank you,” he simply said and left without ever once denying what had been said.
—
you were summoned without explanation.
when your father finally spoke, it was with the same tone he used for matters that did not concern him personally.
“the li heir has requested your assistance,” he said. “you will accompany him when called.”
for a moment, you didn’t understand.
the words settled slowly, unreal at first. and then, something stirred in your chest, light enough that it startled you.
you hadn’t realized how long it had been since anyone had asked for you.
you felt it then, the faint lift at the corners of your mouth, the barely-there hope you hadn’t guarded fast enough.
and your father noticed as his gaze sharpened.
“do not misunderstand,” he said. “this is not an opportunity.”
the warmth in your chest stilled.
“you are being permitted,” he continued, “nothing more.” he said and you lowered your eyes. “and do not embarrass this family,” he added. “you are already enough of a disappointment as you are.”
the words landed without force. they didn’t need to.
“yes, father,” you responded respectfully.
when you left the room, whatever had sparked inside you was already gone.
—
the carriage was waiting in front of the residence.
zayne stood beside it, posture straight, expression unreadable. he turned when he saw you approach and gave a small nod.
“lady (name),” he greeted.
you returned the gesture and stepped inside without a word.
the ride passed in silence. the sound of the wheels against stone filled the space between you.
you kept your hands folded in your lap, gaze fixed ahead, afraid that if you looked at him, something would give you away.
zayne did not speak. neither did you.
when the carriage finally stopped and you stepped down onto unfamiliar ground, and drew in a quiet breath.
this was not a kindness, it was not a chance. but as you followed him inside, you made yourself a promise anyway.
you would do this properly. you would do this well. if nothing else, you would prove, to him, to them, or perhaps only to yourself, that you were not nothing.
.
.
.
you stayed, longer than you expected.
what was meant to be a temporary arrangement stretched into days, then weeks, until a month had passed.
the work continued steadily, and you learned the rhythm of the place. the hours when the halls were quiet.
and zayne, he never treated your presence as anything but necessary.
until one evening, he called for you.
you found him standing by the desk, an unfamiliar parchment laid open before him, its edges were worn, the ink uneven, as though written in haste.
“i was told you might be able to read this,” he said, stepping aside to let you see.
you leaned closer, and froze. the words were old, it was personal, handwritten, and intimate..
your breath caught.
“what does it say?” zayne asked.
you didn’t answer at once. your fingers hovered over the page, suddenly unsure.
“i—it’s…” your voice faltered. you cleared your throat, trying again. “it’s a love letter, your highness.”
“a love letter?” he echoed, surprised, but not amused. “would you read it for me?”
you hesitated and looked at him.
in the months you had stayed within the cold, silent walls of their estate, the distance between you felt like an ocean.
zayne never once spoke to you, but not entirely. his voice only ever reached you when he required your service, asking you to read through the ancient scripts he found.
and that was alright. you were summoned here for that job alone, and nothing else.
you began softly, carefully, translating the opening lines, how the writer first met their beloved, by chance, in passing. how they spoke briefly. how that briefness lingered longer than it should have.
your voice steadied as you continued.
the letter spoke of distance, of difference. of being told again and again that the beloved was less than others, and your chest tightened as you read on.
whatever you are, the words said, whatever the world insists you lack— know that none of it lessens you in my eyes. if you stand in shadow, then i will stand with you.
your vision blurred. you didn’t realize your voice had begun to shake until the next word broke entirely.
and zayne was beside you in an instant.
“lady (name)?” he said quietly. “are you—”
you shook your head quickly, lifting a hand to your face.
“i’m fine,” you said, though your eyes burned. “i—sorry. i was just.. moved by the letter.”
moved was an understatement. you had read histories of war, records of loss, promises made to nations. but never words like these.
words you had spent your life pretending you did not need.
zayne watched you for a long moment, his expression unreadable.
“it was my grandfather's letter to my grandmother. i did not expect it to be so..” he paused, searching for the word, “..honest.”
you folded the parchment carefully, handing it back to him with hands that trembled only slightly.
“it is,” you said softly.
and you did not say what you were really thinking.
that you had waited your entire life to hear words like those, that even now, you did not believe they could ever be meant for you.
zayne’s eyes lingered on you a moment longer than necessary.
and maybe, you should have stepped back. that was the sensible thing to do after the letter. yet somehow, you didn’t.
he was the first one to reach out, hesitantly, his thumb brushing the tears on your cheek. light and careful, enough to make your pulse stutter.
“are you truly all right?” he asked and you nodded, his breath shallow.
too close. he was too close.
the space between you shrank further, without anyone moving intentionally.
your hand pressed flat against his chest, and his other hand found your waist, firm and grounding, as though anchoring you there.
and everything happened too fast.
the hand at your cheek lingered. his thumb tracing a line you felt everywhere.
neither of you spoke. and then, before either of you realized it, he was leaning in.
your eyes widened, but then you swallowed and shut your lashes.
he felt it, the faintest brush, the ghost of your lips meeting his. just that, nothing more.
until the door burst open, ruining the moment, the sound shattered the moment completely.
you sprang back as if burned, your hand falling from his chest, his grasp loosening instantly.
zayne turned sharply toward the door, expression already composed, but his pulse had not slowed.
and neither of you spoke of how close it had been.
—
it was the same night and yet, you couldn’t sleep.
no matter how you turned, how tightly you shut your eyes, the memory followed, how close he had been, how his breath had brushed yours, how his lips had almost touched yours.
you remembered the way you had fled his study afterward, heat rushing to your face as you nearly collided with louis, who had apparently been knocking the entire time, unaware that neither of you had heard him at all.
even now, standing beneath the cold night breeze on the balcony, your body still feels warm.
only then did you realize you were smiling, and you lightly slapped your cheeks, as if snapping yourself back to reality.
that must have been a mistake, a momentary lapse. certainly not something you deserved.
maybe tomorrow, you would apologize for crossing a line you should never have stepped near.
but tomorrow never came.
because just as you turned to return to your room, a presence behind you made you freeze.
zayne stood at the entrance of the balcony.
your breath caught as he approached slowly, and without realizing it, you stepped back, until your hips met the stone railings.
in an instant, his hands were on you, one firm around your waist, the other catching your arm before you could fall down the balcony.
“look out,” he said, and the closeness stole the air from your lungs.
you pulled away at once, taking a careful step back to the side, lowering your head as you put distance between you, distance that felt necessary, even if it hurt.
“what are you doing?” he asked. then, more firmly, “lift your head at once.”
“i need to apologize,” you said quickly, voice small, and still, you didn’t look up. “for earlier. i— never meant to cross your boundaries, your highness. please forgive me.”
suddenly, it was silent, and it stretched long enough for your chest to tighten.
when you finally dared to look up, zayne wasn’t looking at you. his gaze was fixed on the floor, jaw tight, as if he were weighing something carefully.
“your highness?”
“zayne,” he said and your breath stuttered. “call me by my name.” his voice was low, almost hesitant, as if the words were meant only for you.
“but—”
“don’t you understand?” he cut in.
you shook your head faintly. “i.. i don’t.”
“i adore you.” the words sounded almost fragile as they left him, and it left you speechless. “did you think i asked for your help with those scripts simply because of your skill?” he said, and you stared at him, stunned.
“i couldn’t think of any other way to be close to you,” he continued, voice gaining urgency. “if not for this, you would have kept avoiding me.”
he said and took a step closer to you
“i'm still trying to understand it, but i know that i'm starting to want you, (name).” he said so casually that you didn't know what to say.
“i—” your voice trembled as reality pressed in all at once.
why you? how could it be you?
tears spilled before you could stop them, your hands flew to your face as your shoulders shook.
and zayne didn’t hesitate. he pulled you into his arms, holding you close, his hand rubbing slow circles into your back. he didn’t ask permission, he simply stayed.
and that terrified you.
because would he think if he found out? if he knew what you truly lacked?
you had never spoken of your evol. he had never asked whenever you're with him in his study, and you had been grateful for that silence.
but now— now that silence felt dangerous.
still..
just this once..
would it hurt to be selfish?
“zayne,” you whispered.
he stilled. you felt it, the way his body softened at the sound of his name in your voice.
he pulled back slightly, just enough to see you.
your cheeks were tearstained, your smile gentle, but unsteady.
“i..” you hesitated, fingers tightening around his hand as if grounding yourself. “i want to be with you, zayne.” you whispered, as if it was a secret between you and him.
“look at me,” he said softly, and you did.
“say it again,” he asked, almost pleading, turning his gaze away as if afraid to hope too much.
a quiet laugh escaped you, fragile and unsure.
“i.. want to be with you.”
the words were real, your choice was real, but somewhere beneath it all, fear still lingered.
and zayne, lost in the sound of your confession, never noticed the way your grip trembled in his hand.
you stayed in his arms a little longer than you intended.
the warmth, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath your hand, it grounded you, yet stirred something deeper, something you had spent your whole life keeping at bay.
you wanted to say something— anything. but the words caught in your throat.
not about your feelings, they were out, but the truth about yourself. that secret you would guard, for now.
you pulled back just slightly, enough to meet his gaze, the faintest blush still brushed your cheeks.
“i..” your voice barely rose above a whisper.
he tilted his head, a question in his eyes.
but you only shook your head gently, a small, almost imperceptible smile playing on your lips.
“it's nothing,” you murmured.
zayne didn’t press. he didn’t need to.
just being close, just feeling this, was enough for both of you.
and the world seemed to shrink until there was nothing but the space between your bodies.
your hands rested lightly on his chest, heart thrumming so loudly you were sure he could feel it.
his hands were tentative at first, one at your waist, the other cupping your cheek, warm and reassuring.
and then.. slowly, as if the universe itself had leaned in to pause the moment, he lowered his head.
your breath caught, your eyes widened, fluttering shut almost instinctively.
the first brush of his lips was soft, like he didn’t want to scare you away. but it was everything you had waited for.
you melted into it, letting go of the hesitation you had clung to all your life. for just this one moment, you were his, and he was yours.
he lingered, pressing his forehead to yours after, hands still holding you steady, and neither of you spoke or moved.
the silence was not awkward, it was sacred.
you felt the world outside the balcony fade away.
just the two of you remained.
and for the first time, maybe, you believed that it didn’t matter who you were or what the world said.
because here, in his arms, you were enough.
and he would never know, at least not yet, about the other truth you carried.
for now, you stayed there, caught between hesitation and hope, while zayne held you like he had already chosen you.
and didn’t intend to let go.
.
.
.
"zayne?" you called softly. he hummed in response, and almost instantly, his hand found yours in the dim light of the carriage. his grip was warm, a stark contrast to the wintry air outside.
"what is it?" he asked, his voice low and attentive.
you looked at your joined hands, then up at him. You felt a lump in your throat. "can i ask you a favor?"
"of course," he responded, and you took a deep breath.
"can we... can we keep this a secret? for now."
zayne raised his eyebrows, the silent question hanging between you. but, he didn't look angry, just curious.
"it’s not like i—" you struggled to find the words.
how could you tell him that you felt like a thief? that all your life, you had been taught that you didn't deserve to hold onto something precious?
you were afraid that if the world found out you were happy, they would realize their mistake and take it all back.
"if that’s what you want," zayne said. a small, tender smile painted his face, and his thumb reached up to caress your cheek.
he didn't push for reasons, he simply accepted your fear as his own.
"it’s just.. i don't know how to say it to everyone," you mumbled, looking down. "i mean, i am so delighted that you.." you looked back at him with pure, raw adoration, with your voice trembling. "someone as powerful as you.. would choose someone like me. i’m just scared." you let out a soft, nervous laugh. "i hope you’re not mad."
"why would i be?" he responded gently. "i want to make you feel as comfortable as you need to be. we don’t have to rush things, (name). if you want this to be just ours, then it is." he said before reaching into his coat and pulled out a small, box.
slowly, he opened it to reveal a ring, a delicate band with a stone that sparkled like a trapped star.
"zayne..?"
"this is a promise," he whispered, sliding the ring onto your finger. it felt heavy with a weight you weren't sure you could carry, but the warmth of his hand over yours kept you still. "for our future. whether it is a secret or not, it belongs to you."
"woah!" you let out a small gasp as the carriage wheels struck a large stone. the jolt sent your body tilting sideways, and you fell right against him.
zayne didn't let go. instead, he used the momentum to pull you closer, wrapping his arms around you to keep you steady.
"thank you, zayne," you whispered, finally letting out the breath you had been holding. he returned your smile,l.
the carriage eventually came to a halt. zayne stepped down first, his hand extended to help you out with the grace he always carried.
together, you walked into the estate and straight toward your father’s study.
the heavy oak door is opened, revealing your father sitting behind his desk, surrounded by piles of documents.
"we’ve returned, father," you said, stepping into the room.
zayne offered a respectful bow, his voice formal yet steady. "i appreciate you letting us borrow (name) for quite a while.”
your father looked up from his papers. his gaze was usually so sharp, so dismissive, but today, it was different.
"it’s nothing that big," he said, waving a hand. "borrow her as much as you want."
zayne bowed again and turned to leave. you stood there for a moment, waiting for the usual dismissal, but your eyes met your father’s.
you gulped, bowing your head to hide your nervousness, and turned to follow zayne out.
"did you enjoy your stay there?"
the question hit you like a physical weight. you froze, your eyes widening in complete shock. you turned back, searching his face. your father, the man who had ignored you since the day your lack of evol was discovered, was actually asking about you?
"y-yes, father," you responded, your heart hammering against your ribs.
"very well," he said.
it was short, but there was an unexplainable change in his tone that hadn't been there for years.
before you could say anything else, he was already back to his papers, his head bowed.
"thank you, father." you felt a genuine smile break across your face as you stepped out, closing the door gently.
zayne was waiting in the hallway, his presence a comforting weight.
"i’ll take you out," you said, your steps lighter than they had ever been.
at the gates, you stood with zayne one last time before his carriage left.
"i’ll see you again, zayne," you said, reluctant to let the evening end.
zayne remained silent, but he didn't move. he simply stared at you, his gaze so intense it made your skin tingle with nerves.
"what is it?" you asked.
zayne crossed his arms, and to your surprise, a small, playful pout decorated his face. he looked away, but he didn't budge.
you laughed in disbelief, a sound of pure joy. "what is it, zayne?" you repeated.
slowly, his hand came up and he pointed a finger at his own cheek.
you frowned, though your face started burning.
"what if someone sees us!" you whisper-yelled, looking around the empty gardens, but zayne stood there like a statue, unmoving, his expression telling you he wasn't going anywhere until he got his way.
taking a quick, nervous breath, you leaned in.
but before your lips could touch his cheek, he turned to face you. and there, your lips met his.
you were quick to pull away, your hand flying to cover half of your face.
“you—!” you exclaimed and he smiled teasingly.
"goodbye, my love," he said, his voice full of a warmth that made your knees weak.
he smiled one last time before entering the carriage.
my love..
you were sure you looked like a tomato as you bolted back into the house. and as you reached your room, you leaned against the door, your heart racing.
for the first time in your life, you felt like the stars had aligned just for you. it felt like everything was finally in your favor, as if, maybe, you were finally allowed to be happy.
weeks that followed felt like a dream you were afraid to wake up from. the heavy silence of the (L/N) estate was broken not by scolding, but by the quiet scratch of a quill and the rustle of parchment.
your father had started changing. it wasn't a sudden transformation into a doting parent, but it was something perhaps more significant.
he started to rely on you.
one afternoon, he had called you into his study. not to dismiss you, but to point at a stack of ledgers.
"your brother is busy with his martial training and political studies to become the next head," he said, his voice gruff. "but this house.. it needs an eye for detail. someone who can manage the internal affairs, the staff, and the accounts. i think you are capable of it."
it wasn't the role of an heir, but it was a purpose.
you weren't just a powerless daughter anymore, you were the gears that kept the mansion running.
you took the job with a fervor, finally feeling a sliver of the respect you had craved your entire life.
but with your new duties came a price, you could no longer steal away to the capital to see zayne.
letters became your lifeline. they were delivered in secret, tucked away in your apron or hidden beneath your pillow.
in person, zayne was described as a man of cold marble and few words, but in his letters, he was the opposite.
one evening, after a long day of settling disputes, a letter arrived with the li family seal.
you retreated to your room, your heart racing as you broke the wax.
inside, tucked into the folds of the parchment, was a snowflake pendant.
-
to (name) my love,
the capital feels colder without you. the air in my study remains still. i find myself looking toward the gates every hour, expecting to see your carriage cresting the hill, only to be met with the gray, silence of the sky. i miss you. it feels as though a part of my very soul is missing when we are not together.
i have been worried. you haven't been going out like usual, and the city feels empty without the hope of catching a glimpse of you. tell me, how are you? is the work at the estate taxing you too much? i know how diligent you are, but please, do not let your father’s demands drain the light from your eyes.
accept this pendant. wear it always and take it as a piece of me.
whenever the world feels too loud or you feel alone, remember that i am always standing beside you.
this snowflake was designed specifically for you. it is the only one in existence, just as you are the only one for me. i hope to see you soon, for my days are merely a countdown until i can hold you again.
yours always,
zayne li
-
you clutched the letter to your chest, a tear of pure joy escaping.
you sat down at your desk immediately, your own quill flying across the paper.
-
dearest zayne,
please do not worry. my father has asked for my help in managing the household. it is a heavy task, and i am learning everything as i go, which is why i haven't been able to visit.
i am wearing the pendant now. it feels like a piece of you is here with me. i love it more than i can say.
i will finish my work quickly so that i may see you soon. i miss you more than words allow me to write."
-
as you sealed the envelope, you looked at the ring on your finger and the pendant at your neck.
your father was finally seeing your value, and zayne, he made you feel loved.
right now, you felt invincible. you felt like, for once, the world was finally—finally, on your side.
you had no idea that the consequences were already at your door.
you wanted to surprise him.
the work at the estate had finally eased, and the longing to see zayne was a physical ache in your chest.
you wore the same cloak you had worn the first time you met him after all those years. the one that hid your identity and made you feel like you could move through the world unseen.
as you strolled through the bustling capital, your eyes searched every corner for that familiar, tall figure.
you imagined the look on his face when you finally revealed yourself, you imagined the warmth of his embrace.
but as you walked, the air didn't smell like freedom. it smelled like treachery.
the whispers started at the market stalls and followed you like a plague.
you stopped at a fruit stand, pretending to inspect the apples, your ears ringing as the voices of two noblewomen drifted over to you.
"have you heard? his highness has officially become the head of the li family," one whispered, her voice bubbling with excitement.
"they say the preparations have already begun."
"the marriage?" the other asked. "who is the lucky lady?
"i heard it’s princess aurelia. it only makes sense!"
"of course! two powerful people getting married? they would be undefeatable. no one would ever dare stand in their way."
your heart didn't just break, it felt like it was being crushed by an invisible hand. and every word you hear was a needle.
powerful? undefeatable? none of those words described you.
the snowflake pendant around your neck, suddenly felt like a noose. it grew heavy, and suffocating.
you tried to continue your stroll, hoping, and praying that you'll find him, to look for answers, but the capital had turned into a nightmare.
everywhere you looked, people were celebrating a union that meant the end of your world.
zayne here, princess aurelia there. it was killing you.
in the end, you didn't find zayne. you didn't want to anymore.
you fled back to the estate, the cloak that once offered you comfort now feeling like a shroud.
you burst into your room and slammed the door, and the silence of the walls mocking you.
was it finally over? had your brief moment of happiness been nothing more than a cruel joke played by the stars?
you thought of the letter you had sent a week ago. the one he never replied to. was that why?
"i hate this," you sobbed, the sound raw and ugly in the quiet room.
the pain in your chest was too much to bear. in a fit of agonizing despair, you reached for the snowflake necklace.
you didn't unfasten it. you gripped the silver chain and pulled.
the metal bit into the skin of your neck, a sharp sting of pain, before the link finally snapped. the delicate snowflake, the custom design meant only for you, hit the floor with a clink.
you collapsed to your knees, staring at the broken jewelry through a blur of tears.
you knew deep down it wasn't zayne's fault, politics were a monster that consumed everything, but that didn't stop the bleeding.
you just wished your relationship hadn't gone this far. you wished you had stayed in the library, so that losing him wouldn't feel like losing your very soul.
.
.
.
"your grace."
zayne didn't move at first. he sat in his study, the air around him unnaturally still, his fingers massaging his temples as if he could press away the headache that had been thrumming there for days.
"you’ve received a gift," louis said, standing at the threshold.
"just leave it—" zayne’s said, clearly not interested.
"from lady (name)."
zayne’s hand froze. "from (name)?"
he repeated the name as if it were a spell.
louis walked in and placed a small, blue-lined box on the desk before bowing and exiting the room.
zayne stared at the box for a long minute before his trembling fingers finally flipped the lid, and his breath hitched once he opened it.
inside lay a ring and the pendant, ones he gave you. but the pendant was broken. the silver chain was snapped, the snowflake lying lonesome at the bottom of the box.
why?
the question echoed in his mind, and then, like a sudden blizzard, realization hit him. the rumors, the whispers of a marriage to aurelia that had been circulating the capital.
he had already spent his morning issuing a formal statement, a speech that made it clear the marriage was nothing but a fabrication by the court.
he had done the work, but it was too late. the damage was sitting in a box on his desk.
zayne tried to draw a breath, to calm the storm brewing in his chest, but his emotions were no longer under his control.
frost began to bloom across the mahogany desk. the windowpanes cracked under the sudden, intense drop in temperature.
the entire estate grew cold, a physical manifestation of a duke who had finally lost his patience.
-
on the other side of the capital, the (L/N) estate was a hive of activity. the gala, the one your family had arranged, was only a day away, and you had drowned yourself in the preparations.
you checked the linens, the guest list, and the floral arrangements until your eyes burned.
and every time you returned to your room, the letter was there.
it sat on your vanity, the li family seal mocking you. you had received it a night after returning the box, but you dared not open it. you couldn't.
your eyes were already puffy and raw from crying all night. you knew that reading his words would only break what little was left of your resolve.
it had been two days since you returned the gifts.
you told yourself you had to do it. you couldn't keep his vows while the rest of the world was preparing his wedding to a princess.
as you watched the sunset from your window, you couldn't stop the comparisons.
everyone in town was right. zayne and aurelia.. they were a perfect pair, a union that seemed carved by the gods themselves.
and what about you?
if zayne was to marry you, what could you possibly offer him?
aside from a love that had no power to protect him, you had nothing. you were a liability.
"maybe in another life," you whispered to the empty room, your voice cracking.
you forced yourself to believe that this was what was best for him.
you tried to tell your heart that leaving him was the ultimate act of love, because that was the only way you could survive the thought of him being better off without you.
"why are you just sitting there, (name)? guests are already arriving in the hall." your brother’s voice was like a whip crack through the door.
he knocked once, not a request for entry, but a command to obey.
"i’m not feeling very well, brother. can i—"
"no, you cannot, (name)." he cut you off, his tone icy. "mother and father left this job to us. do not be a baby and get out. now."
you sighed, the sound catching in your throat as you stood up.
you smoothed the heavy silk of your skirt, checking the mirror one last time.
you opened the door to find your brother’s face twisted in irritation. he didn't ask if you were okay, he simply scoffed and turned toward the hall.
you followed him, every step feeling like you were walking towards your death.
it was true that you felt physically ill, but the source wasn't a fever, it was the knowledge that zayne was down there. and you didn't think you could survive seeing him.
the moment you stepped into the blinding light of the grand hall, your breath left you.
the universe was cruel. because out of all the people in that crowded, shimmering hall, the first eyes you met were his.
hazel-green eyes, piercing and intense, staring up at you from the ground floor. zayne stood there, looking as regal as a king, his gaze locking onto yours with a force that made your knees buckle.
you looked away instantly. you couldn't bear the weight of his stare, not when you were convinced he was already slipping through your fingers.
as you descended the stairs, a swarm of noblewomen already circled your brother, chirping like birds.
you moved to the front of the hall, painting a fake smile on your face. you greeted guests, accepted hollow compliments, and played the part of the perfect host, all while your heart was screaming.
as the gala officially began, your brother took the stage. his speech was practiced, announcing his future as the heir, but the moment that broke you was when he congratulated zayne on officially taking the lead of the li family.
suddenly, zayne was being ushered to the front.
he was forced to stand right beside you.
the air between you crackled. you could feel his hand twitching at his side, almost as if he were trying to reach for yours.
but the eyes of the entire kingdom were on you both. you took a subtle step to the side, widening the gap between you.
you didn't look at him, but you could feel his confusion radiating.
the celebration continued and zayne was pulled back into the crowd by elder lords and diplomats, as the choir began to sing.
to your ears, the music was nothing but a dull, discordant blur.
and then, the room went silent.
the doors opened, and she, princess aurelia entered.
she didn't just walk, she seemed to glow, her aura of power catching the light of every chandelier.
and you couldn't help it. you looked at zayne. and just like everyone else in the room, his eyes were already on her.
your heart felt like it had been turned to lead.
you watched her move through the crowd, a goddess among mortals, while you stood on the sidelines.
you closed your eyes, taking a deep, shuddering breath, and when you opened them again, he was now looking at you.
his eyebrows were furrowed, his expression dark and searching. he then took a step toward you. then another.
he was cutting through the crowd, determined to reach you.
you stumbled back, the lump in your throat making it hard to breathe. you didn't want to hear his excuses. you didn't want to hear him say her name.
but zayne was stopped. a group of noblewomen swarmed him, laughing and pulling him back.
at the same time, others were ushering aurelia toward the center of the floor. the crowd began to chant, a low rhythm that grew into a roar: "dance! dance!"
It was a tradition. the two highest-ranking guests were expected to share the first dance. they had to be professional, they had to oblige the crowd’s request.
zayne looked at you one last time, his eyes pleading for you to understand, but what you saw was the perfect pair finally coming together.
of all the expressions you could show him, you only smiled at him.
it wasn't a smile of joy. it was a tragic, beautiful mask, the kind of smile someone gives when they are saying goodbye forever.
he watched as you leaned over to your brother and whispered a few words of dismissal.
you turned and walked toward the small side door of the hall, the one that led into the dark, quiet corridors of the mansion.
hust as you reached the exit, you looked back.
zayne was still standing there, aurelia’s hand in his, but his gaze was still locked on you.
the fake smile vanished, and you let him see it.
the raw, bleeding betrayal in your eyes. you looked at him as if he had pulled the trigger himself.
then, without a word, you slipped into the shadows and left the music behind.
because seeing him hold her was enough to kill you.
.
.
.
the grand hall erupted in a sudden gasp. hundred eyes watched in stunned silence as zayne stood before princess aurelia, his posture rigid.
he offered a deep, formal bow, his voice carrying through the hushed room.
"i must offer my deepest apologies, princess aurelia," he said. "i cannot share this dance with you. for you see.. my heart already belongs to another."
the choir ceased its song mid-note as a storm of whispers took its place.
zayne turned his gaze toward the door where you had vanished, his eyes meeting your brother’s. there was a silent, burning plea in his expression, an unspoken request for passage to follow you.
your brother merely scoffed, averting his gaze as if to wash his hands of the scandal.
"everyone, please continue," your brother announced, clapping his hands to jumpstart the rhythm of the evening.
the guests slowly returned to their business, though their eyes followed zayne as he bowed once more and bolted toward the door.
the hallway was a tunnel of shadows, but as zayne followed the path, it led him to the crisp of the night air.
and there you were, standing upon the stone balcony, staring at the stars. you were silently demanding to know why the fates had chosen to play such a cruel game with your life.
“(name).”
your eyes widened.
you did not need to turn to know the owner of that voice. it was a melody etched into your very soul.
"please.. listen to me—" zayne began, his voice strained.
"what business brings you here?" you interrupted, finally turning to face him. "this wing is prohibited to guests, your grace. your place is in the hall."
as your eyes met his, you felt a sharp sting. your heart felt as if it were being squeezed.
"do not be so cold, my love—"
"please," you cut him off for the second time, your breath hitching. "refrain from calling me that."
zayne did not speak. instead, he closed the distance between you with slow steps.
to your shock, he lowered himself, placing one knee upon the cold stone. he took your hand in his, his touch like fire against your skin, and pressed a lingering kiss to your knuckles.
"please," he pleaded, the word echoing with a raw, desperate weight. "i beg of you.. listen to me."
the dam you had built around your heart finally broke. the tears you had fought so hard to contain began to fall freely.
"stand up," you mumbled, and he obeyed.
"i would have you know that whatever rumors have reached your ears.. they are not the truth, (name)," he said, searching your face for even a glimmer of belief. "it is you that i desire to be with. only you. there is no one else."
"and I am not good for you," you wept, the words tasting like ash. "everyone is right, zayne. a princess like aurelia would be a suitable match for a man of your stature. not me."
"that is not true."
"we both know it is!" you cried, forcing your hand away from his grip and hiding it behind your back. "I have nothing, zayne! mothing! i am powerless…” you exclaimed, voice faltering as you breath heavily. “i was born with no evol. i am nothing without the blood running through my veins, and compared to her, i am—"
"that is enough!" his sudden command startled you into silence. "who told you that k wanted you for your power?" he asked, his voice shaking with an intensity that pinned you in place. "i want you because i love you. can you not understand that? i have known for a long time that you do not possess an evol. and so what if you do not? a am strong enough to protect both of us."
you were speechless. the world seemed to stop spinning. "but.. how?" you whispered, hiding your face in your palms as the sobs racked your frame.
you felt the solid, familiar warmth of his arms as he pulled you into an embrace.
"alfred told me long ago," he mumbled against your hair, his hand caressing your head to soothe the storm. "before we had even truly spoken.. i already knew. and i did not care."
"you will regret this," you whispered into his chest, finally returning his embrace as if it were the last anchor in the world. "you will regret if you choose me. that is why you must make the right decision now, zayne. choose her... and let me go."
you meant those words with all your soul, yet a tiny, selfish part of you was screaming for him to stay.
silence stretched between you for a long, heavy minute before zayne gently pulled away.
he cupped your face in his hands, his thumbs moving in slow circles to wipe away the salt of your tears.
"you are the only one i desire," he vowed, his eyes boring into yours. "if loving you is to be my regret, then i shall carry it with me forever. i will bear it gladly, so long as you are by my side."
you could only hide your face against his chest once more. the words hurt to hear, not because they were cruel, but because they were so beautiful they were agonizing.
"you do not need power to be with me," he murmured. he said, his expression shifting.
"look at me," he commanded, and you did. "no matter what you are, or what they claim you are missing... it does not make you less in my eyes. if you are cast into the dark, then i will simply stand there with you, for eternity if i must.” your breath hitched.
those words.. they were the same ones you had read in the letters of his grandfather. and maybe, it was a vow that ran in his blood.
"you do not understand," you whispered, your voice trembling. "they want a princess for you. i am just.. someone you know."
zayne stepped even closer, resting his forehead against yours. he let out a shaky breath, as if he were feeling every ounce of your pain as his own.
"who cares for what they want?" he mumbled softly. "no one will tell me who i desire, or whom i shall wed. for it is you, (name). It has always been you."
"i will give you more time.. to decide," you whispered.
"i have no need for decisions," he replied instantly. "i choose you. only you."
"will you ever regret it?" you asked, your voice trembling as you looked up at him. "when things get hard, and people start talking.. promise me you won't leave me. promise me you won't realize one day that you made a mistake by choosing me over someone who could give you more."
you couldn't stop the tears from falling, and you gripped his coat tightly, as if you were afraid he would disappear if you let go. you were so used to being the one people gave up on, and the fear of losing him was almost more than you could take.
zayne didn't pull away. instead, he took your hand and pressed it firmly against his chest, right where his heart was beating fast and steady. "i promise you, (name), my love. i promise i’m never going anywhere," he said, his voice soft but very sure. "i do not care about what people say, and i do not care about what you think you can't give me. you are enough for me just as you are. i’m not choosing you because of what you can do for my family, i’m choosing you because i love you. i’ll be right here by your side through everything, and nothing in this world is going to change that. my heart belongs to you, and it always will be."
you finally let out a breath you felt like you’d been holding for years, a small smile appearing through your tears.
zayne leaned down, his hands gently holding your face as he looked at you with so much warmth that it made your heart ache in the best way.
he waited a second, making sure you saw how much he meant it, before he finally leaned in. his lips met yours in a long, sweet kiss that felt like a new beginning.
it was a kiss that made all the pain of the past few days disappear, making you feel safe and loved. you were finally with him, and for that moment, everything felt perfect.
the world had tried to break you, but for a while, it failed.
the news of the marriage had hit the capital like a thunderclap. every noble house whispered about the duke who had chosen a wife without an evol.
they waited for zayne to realize his mistake, for him to grow cold or regretful. but it never happened.
instead, zayne became your protector.
you still remembered the day a high-ranking noble had dared to mock you during a banquet. zayne hadn't just stood up, he had walked to the center of the room.
"let me be very clear," zayne had said, his voice strict. "this woman is my wife, and she is the heart of the li family. if i hear so much as a whisper against her again, i will not hesitate to silence those tongues myself. i do not care for your politics, i only care for her. and i will destroy anyone who dares to make her feel small." he had said.
for a few years, you were happy. you managed the estate, he led with strength, and you finally knew what it felt like to be loved without conditions.
but the peace was temporary. the war came, and with it, a darkness that even zayne’s power couldn't withstand.
and the silence was the worst part.
you sat there in the middle of the ruined room, your dress soaked through with the blood of the only person who ever truly saw you.
you didn't scream anymore, you didn't even sob. you just sat there, cradling zayne’s head in your lap, staring blankly at him.
he was gone, and as you looked down at his pale, still face, you realized that you hadn't just lost a husband or a lover.
you had lost your own life, too.
you were breathing, your heart was beating, but you felt nothing. you were a hollow shell, sitting in a world that had suddenly lost its color.
it felt like you had died right there beside him, and the person left behind was just a ghost waiting for the wind to carry her away.
the sounds of the distant war seemed to fade into a dull, underwater hum.
nothing mattered anymore.
you closed your eyes, pressing your cheek against his cold forehead, wishing the ground would simply open up and take you both.
and then, through the heavy, suffocating silence, you heard it.
it wasn't a human voice. it was a sound that felt like it came from the shadows themselves, a low, rhythmic vibration that seemed to crawl up your spine. it was a whisper, yet it filled the entire room.
"would you like to make a wish?"
your eyes snapped open, but the room was empty.
there was only you, the cold body in your arms, and the darkness that was beginning to swallow the light of the dying candles.
and yet the question hung in the air, heavy with a price you couldn't yet imagine.
a/n: hehe, yes there will be part 2, lmk if u wanna be tagged!