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I dismount in the courtyard, tail dragging behind me as I march to the main hall.

My chest aches with an emptiness so profound I can barely breathe.

Scenes flash in my mind: the day I first brought Mira here, how I watched her from the shadows, enthralled by her quiet grace.

Now, I face the humiliating truth that I must vacate my own territory within a fortnight.

The staff, the fields, the hidden garden—none of it is mine anymore.

Crick shadows me, uncertain. We reach the corridor leading to Mira’s room, but I pause. A wave of anguish grips me, forcing me to lean against the wall. My tail curls in a despairing coil, as though trying to hold me upright. I’ve never felt so powerless.

“Vahziryn,” Crick says gently, placing a hand on my shoulder. “She’ll want to know you returned.”

I nod, swallowing a knot of emotion. “Yes.” Summoning what remains of my composure, I move forward, pushing the door open with a trembling hand.

Inside, she stands near a small table, wearing a plain tunic that highlights her slight figure.

Her dark hair is pinned with the jade comb I gave her long ago, the single ornament that reminds me of simpler days.

The moment she sees me, her face floods with relief, swiftly replaced by alarm at my expression.

“Vahziryn,” she whispers, stepping closer. “You’re back. Are you?—?”

I can’t speak for a moment. My tail slides across the floor, scraping gently.

“The council demanded everything,” I manage, voice hoarse.

“My domain, my warlord title. I’m banished from these lands within fourteen days.

” It hurts to voice the final blow. “You— you and our child can’t stay here either.

If you do, the council reserves the right to seize you. ”

Her eyes brim with tears, heartbreak etched in every line of her face. “So they gave you no mercy.”

A bitter laugh escapes me. “None. If we remain, they’ll come with official sanction. They can crush us.” My gaze lingers on her belly. A fierce longing and despair churn like a tempest inside me. “I’m so sorry. I tried?—”

She presses a shaking hand to my chest, tears sliding down her cheeks. “You gave up everything for me.” Her voice trembles, a torrent of sorrow. “That’s not your fault. The council is vile.”

I dip my head, tail moving around her in an instinctive show of comfort. “We have to leave this place. My staff can decide whether to remain under new overlords or accompany me into exile. But the estate itself is lost.”

She swallows hard, leaning against me. “Then we go together, right?” She searches my face with fragile hope. “We’ll find a new land, raise our child free from their tyranny.”

My breath hitches at the magnitude of that dream. “It’s all we can do,” I whisper, voice husky. “But know it won’t be easy. I’m a warlord turned fugitive. We might face scorn in other lands, too.”

She grips my forearm. “Better than living in fear of the council. We stand a chance out there, if we stand together.”

Tears prick my eyes, a rare show of vulnerability I can’t hide. I cup her cheek, letting the weight of my heartbreak slip into that touch. “Yes,” I say, voice unsteady. “We face a dark road. But I’ll never let them harm you or our child.”

She slips into my arms, cheek to my chest, and we stay wrapped in each other in the hush of her room. The realization that we must flee, leaving behind every foundation, crushes me. But I cling to the single truth that matters: as long as we remain united, hope survives.

Night falls outside, the estate’s corridors hushed with dread.

Tomorrow, I’ll gather my loyal staff, inform them of the council’s decree.

Some may follow me into the unknown, others might bow to the new regime.

I glance at Mira’s pale face, haunted yet determined.

We’ve lost a home, but we still have each other.

The council can’t strip me of that bond, not without shedding my last drop of blood.

My tail curls around her waist, anchoring us in the midst of ruin. Her trembling slows as she matches my breathing. We stand, hearts pounding, enveloped by the reality of our new destiny. The future is a labyrinth of potential dangers, but we’ll walk it side by side.

A single flame in the room’s lantern flickers, reflecting in her eyes. The tension eases just enough for us to share a fleeting sense of solace, even in the face of devastation. I tilt my head, pressing my mouth gently to her temple. She exhales shakily, arms winding around my waist.

“I have you,” I whisper, voice thick with emotion. “No matter where we go.”

She closes her eyes, tears slipping free. “And I have you.”

We linger in that fragile embrace, bracing for the dark night that threatens to swallow us.

Though I stand at the brink of losing all I once claimed—title, lands, ancestral honor—I cling to the singular light we carry: the unborn child stirring possibility in her womb, and the quiet vow in our hearts that refuses to be crushed.