I wasn’t quite ready to throw myself into the role of the well-wisher with full heart and spirit. But I found I could at least hope for their peace, their joy. Indeed, I thought with a glimmer of hope, glad that I was able to find even a trace of optimism within me. I don’t wish for them to suffer, not truly.
I opened my hand, wanting to believe, if only for a moment, that I could hold the moon itself...but I closed my fist around nothing but air. I let out a quiet chuckle at the futility of it all, wondering why something so obvious, so predictable, could still leave me feeling so hollow.
My arm fell back to my side, limp and useless, and I heard Teo sigh softly beside me. “Could you even be more chivalrous?” he muttered, his tone dry. He shrugged and shook his head, as if there were some aspect of my behavior—of my longing for something I could never have—that was impossible for him to comprehend.
Chivalrous, eh? I mused silently. Maybe he had a point. After all, I’d never imposed my will on Carolina, never forced her to love me the way I wanted her to. Besides our healing sessions, I had respected her space, her autonomy. If I’d truly been the kind of man to prioritize my own happiness above all else, perhaps I could’ve kept her near me in some underhanded or unsavory way. Why hadn’t I done so? If I’d been willing to throw away my future for her, why hadn’t I gone further?
The answer came as easily as it always did: I hadn’t wanted Carolina to resent me. “Her body might’ve been mine,” I muttered under my breath, “but her heart never would’ve been.”
I cupped my hands over my mouth and breathed onto my frozen fingers, though I barely felt the cold—the numbness I felt tickled me somewhat, and I smiled again, albeit weakly. I turned, facing the hall where the strains of the orchestra were still faintly audible through the doors. The melody had changed, and I realized how much time had passed.
“It’s nearly time for the dancing to begin,” I remarked, glancing back at Teo. “We wouldn’t want to miss that, now would we?”
“Indeed,” Teo replied, nodding curtly. “Let’s go back before anyone starts asking questions.”
I marveled at how effortlessly he switched from one topic to the next, as if our conversation hadn’t been filled with the deepest of my sorrows. And it struck me—Teo hadn’t offered a single word of comfort, not a shred of advice. Quintessentially Teodore, yet somehow I felt lighter. The heaviness of heartbreak still lingered, but the burden wasn’t so crushing now. I no longer felt the urge to cry, nor to wallow in my misery.
“I’ll warm myself in the royal sitting room before returning,” I said, giving his shoulder a light pat. “Thank you, Teo. For listening.”
With that, I turned and strode towards the door. The weight of my unrequited love no longer clung to me so tightly. Now, I could focus on what truly mattered. I could focus on becoming a worthy ruler—one who was benevolent, respected, and above all, free from the chains of the past.