“You’re not coming back in?” he asked, a little suspicious.
“I’d like to stay out here and cool down for a bit,” I replied, trying to sound composed. “I won’t be long, don’t worry. But I wouldn’t ask you to stay out here just to keep me company.”
I hoped he would take the hint—that I needed to be alone, and I needed this to occur quickly, because the tears were already beginning to well. I blinked them back as best as I could. Crying at this time and in this place felt wrong. Too effeminate, too vulnerable. And above all, it felt disrespectful to Carolina’s efforts tonight. She had handled this situation with such care, and I refused to tarnish that with my tears.
Luckily, Edward tore his gaze away from me, his concern shifting to Carolina. “Let’s go, Lina. At this rate, you’ll really catch a cold,” he said softly, wrapping an arm around her as they turned towards the door. As they passed, I could feel the warmth radiating from him—always the devoted husband, using his fire magic to regulate the temperature to keep her comfortable in the biting cold.
As their footsteps faded away, I let out a weary breath and leaned against the balcony railing, staring out into the darkness. I fought desperately to keep the tears at bay. I knew that if even a single tear fell, a deluge would promptly follow. I still had a party to attend, nobles to mingle with. What would they think of the crown prince showing up with tear-stained cheeks on what should have been the happiest day of his life?
And you call yourself a future emperor, Gilbert, I scolded myself, drawing deep, slow breaths to calm the turmoil inside me.
As I struggled to maintain control, Teo loomed out of the shadows as if from nowhere. His sudden presence didn’t surprise me—he had a knack for dramatic appearances, materializing like a phantom ever since we were young. His clothes were damp from the snow, indicating he had likely been hiding nearby with his illusion magic for quite some time.
“Come to kick a man when he’s down?” I asked in a sad attempt to mask my emotions with humor, propping myself up on an elbow.
Teo looked at me out of the corner of his eye, his expression unreadable. He took his time, as he always did, before finally nodding. “Yes, I have,” he replied in a tone that was gravely serious.
I couldn’t help but chuckle. “You truly are the worst kind of person.”
“The insult rings a little hollow coming from you,” he retorted, then let out a sigh.
His reply actually seemed colored with a tinge of pity, or so I thought. Of all the scathing remarks he could have thrown at me, this one was oddly bland. Perhaps Teo had come out here not to mock me but to comfort me. In his own way, he had chosen to take up the task that neither Edward nor Carolina could have fulfilled at that moment. In his own cold, detached way...
Not that I hated it. Brisk and distant sympathy was far preferable to condescending condolences.
“Say, Teo,” I said after a beat.
“Yes, Your Highness?” he replied.
“Talk with me for a moment, would you?”
“I must respectfully decline.”
Would it kill you to even pretend to hesitate in your refusal? As wry as my thoughts were, however, a smile couldn’t help but curl my lips.
“It’s a royal decree,” I amended.
The glance he shot me was nasty. But after a moment he shrugged his shoulders and didn’t leave. Taking that as a sign of his compliance (or kindness?), I looked away from him and out to the garden. Words rose to my lips. Words desperate to be heard—each of them tasted bitter and tragic on my tongue as I released them to the air:
“I love...loved her, you know?” I said out into the dark. “Not just because of what she could do, or the power she had. I loved her—for her.”
For a love I referred to in the past tense, the emotions cut deeper than any blade might have done in the present. I grieved for it, my first love—a fragile, fleeting thing that had slipped through my fingers far too soon. My eyes closed in a stubborn and possibly vain attempt to keep the tears at bay, though the ache remained.
“I admit that in the beginning, it was her power I coveted,” I said. “Her Divinity was...useful, a means to an end, but she touched something deep within me—with her kindness, her honesty, her light. Every time we spoke, it stirred something inside of me, something I couldn’t shake. I started wanting her—needing her—to linger just a little longer. And before I knew it, all I could feel, all I could think of, was that I wanted her, not just for a moment, but...forever.”
The image of Carolina’s smile, seared into my memory as if by flame, drifted across my mind. The dull throb of heartache surged with a fresh sharpness, and I pressed my lips together, as if that could dam the flood of emotions and memories threatening to overwhelm me. Despite my efforts, they slipped through, one after another, trickling out slowly but surely. Even after I’d achieved what I thought had been my goal—a clean break, her clear rejection—my heart still rebelled, unsatisfied and aching for more.
“I wanted to be the one who made her happy,” I said, my voice barely a whisper. “I wanted to be the only man she ever looked at.” I swallowed hard, the weight of my confession settling heavily in the quiet night. “It hit me recently, the depth of these feelings, but my love for her, Teo... It’s real. It’s more real than anything I’ve ever felt before. Real enough that I’d give up everything—abdicate the throne—just to be with her.”
It became clear only in giving voice to these feelings how much she truly meant to me. The ambition I had chased my entire life, the crown, the power, all of it paled in comparison to the thought of having her by my side. My eyelids fluttered open, and I found Teo still standing resignedly beside me, his brow furrowed in quiet contemplation. He didn’t speak, but his eyes were locked on me, unwavering, letting me know he was there, truly listening. His presence, calm and steady, coaxed the darkness from my soul, drawing out thoughts I hadn’t even realized were festering inside me.
“I can’t help but wonder,” I murmured, almost to myself, “if Carolina had been wed to me instead of Edward... Would she have loved me the way she loves him?” The absurdity of the thought tugged at the corner of my lips, a bitter smile forming. “It’s foolish to wonder, I know. Pointless, even. But I can’t stop clinging to the curiosity.”
This delusion, this wishful thinking, was a panacea I’d concocted to soothe my wounded ego. I wanted so badly to believe that it wasn’t Edward she loved. That if circumstances had been different, if fate had twisted in my favor, her heart might’ve been mine. Yet, deep down, I couldn’t shake the cold certainty that no matter how things had played out, she would always have ended up choosing him.
I’m pathetic, my inner voice spat. Even in my own fantasies, she leaves me for him.
“I’m envious of Edward,” I admitted with a heavy sigh. “He has it all—health, magical ability, the love of the woman he adores—as well as a loyal and most capable childhood friend,” I added dryly, but Teo didn’t react. Only after the quiet had stretched for long moments did he sigh, his gaze drifting out to the garden with mine.
“No matter how much you covet what another has, you’ll never possess it,” he said with a matter-of-fact finality.
“I know, I know,” I replied. “But that doesn’t stop me from feeling it.”
I wasn’t so virtuous a man that I could look at my brother, blessed as he was, and claim not to feel any kind of jealousy. Why shouldn’t I? When I saw him, with all that fortune and grace, how could I not want to rail against the heavens for dealing me such a cruel hand? The feelings of inferiority, of envy—they had been there all along, just lying dormant, hidden beneath the surface. But it only took falling in love for the first time to stir up that buried spite. Now, it whirled within me—a chaotic, muddled mess—and as it began to settle, a smirk curved my lips. A bitter, self-deprecating smirk.
“Edward’s a good man—a good brother,” I conceded. “And as much as it galls me to admit, he and Carolina...they’re good for each other. Though it really galls me,” I added, quieter this time. My hand reached up, as if I might grasp the moon that hung, distant and untouchable, in the night sky. “Perhaps it’s true—only Edward can truly make her happy. If that’s the case, then I suppose I’ll have to pray for them—for their continued happiness.”