Page 11

Chapter Eleven

Valen

When Stella packed up a basket with fruits, cheeses, a loaf of yeasty bread, and two bottles of wine, she had one request: to go somewhere secluded where we could enjoy a picnic—and each other. I didn’t have to think twice about where to take us. The oasis at the edge of the palace grounds is a hidden slice of paradise few people know about and almost no one but Marek and I visit.

The large pool of crystal clear water, fed by natural springs, sparkles under the dappled sunlight filtering through the tall trees. Birdsong mingles with the rustle of leaves in the gentle breeze and the soft nickers of my mare and Marek’s gelding grazing nearby.

We’ve been here for hours, long enough to enjoy the food, savor the wine, and indulge in each other. Now we’re lazily sprawled in the shade, half-dressed—Marek and I in nothing but our breeches and Stella in my white shirt that hangs off one shoulder and skims the tops of her thighs. Her brown hair gleams in the filtered sunlight, and her cheeks are still flushed from earlier…endeavors.

I lean back against the rough trunk of a sprawling tree, Stella nestled between my legs, her back pressed to my chest. Marek lies beside us on the blanket, perpendicular to our tangle of limbs, his head cradled on our left legs as Stella’s fingers comb lazily through his dark hair. The muscles in his chest shift beneath my hand, which is entwined with his, rising and falling with every deep, steady breath. My other hand trails idle patterns on Stella’s soft stomach beneath the shirt, earning an occasional hum of contentment.

The moment is quiet. Intimate. Perfect.

This is peace. The kind I never knew existed. The kind I’ve dreamed of but never dared believe I could have.

The kind that isn’t mine to keep.

The thought settles like a stone in my chest. I tighten my grip on Marek’s hand, needing the contact to anchor me, and press a kiss to the crown of Stella’s head, as if that might somehow make the moment last a little longer.

The last few days have felt like a dream, a heady blend of duty and indulgence. Around my family, Stella and I play our parts as the dutiful and enamored betrothed couple seamlessly. Back at the cottage, the facade drops, replaced by something raw, unrestrained, and utterly consuming. Nights of insatiable desire, mornings tangled together, afternoons filled with laughter and stolen touches. It’s a rhythm I could get used to, one that feels dangerously close to perfection.

Marek turns his head slightly, his black eyes locking on mine. He doesn’t say anything—he doesn’t need to. He sees the battle in me, the conflict between wanting this to last forever and knowing it’s fleeting.

The light tug of Stella’s nails against Marek’s scalp pulls a sigh from him, and I smirk. He’s always been so serious, so tightly wound, but with her, he softens. With her, we both do.

She breaks the quiet first, her voice thoughtful. “Do you two ever think about having children someday?”

Marek chokes, his body jerking slightly, and I can’t help but laugh. “Stella, we don’t exactly have the equipment for that.”

She rolls her eyes, the movement so dramatic I feel it against my chest. “That’s not what I mean. Pretend that didn’t matter. Have you ever seen yourselves as fathers?”

Marek shifts slightly, brow knitting, and I know he’s mulling over her question. I run my hand down Stella’s arm, letting the moment breathe.

“I used to think about it,” Marek says finally, his voice quieter than usual, as if pulling the words from a place he rarely allows himself to visit. “But it’s not something that can happen for me. Not in the way I used to imagine.”

I stay silent, watching the way the lines in his face shift, the way his jaw tightens with restraint.

Stella tilts her head back, glancing up at me. “And you?”

“Absolutely. I’d love to be a father.”

She smiles. “Aren’t there ways the two of you could have children together?”

“In our kingdom, the Law of Honor and Perception governs the royal family,” Marek says. “It’s not just about what you do but how you’re seen doing it. An official triad might be accepted in theory—if the king and queen consent and the heir is secured. But stepping outside a marriage, especially a royal one, would create an uproar. It would call Valen’s fitness as a ruler into question. People would wonder, if he can’t honor his vows to a wife, how can he honor his duty to the kingdom? It would be a scandal. One so damning that it could cost him his crown.”

Stella tilts her head, and I can see the pieces starting to click into place. “But people have affairs all the time,” she says carefully. “Even royals. Historically, kings and queens—”

“Historically, yes,” Marek interrupts, his voice firm but not unkind. “But the Kingdom of Swords isn’t like other kingdoms. Here, every move the crown makes is scrutinized under a lens sharper than any blade. The people expect their leaders to be above reproach. To be an example of the honor they demand from themselves. That perception is everything.”

She tenses as Marek’s words sink in, but he isn’t finished.

“For Valen, it wouldn’t just be whispers or rumors. The council would see it as a breach of the sacred trust between the crown and its people. The heir must come first—symbolically and literally. If the prince were seen prioritizing his desires, his lover, over the stability of the kingdom, it would unravel everything.” His black eyes rest on mine, softer now. “I could never do anything to risk that for him. For us. And even if I could set my honor aside, the fallout wouldn’t be worth it.”

I grip his hand tighter, the words striking a chord I feel deep in my heart.

Stella’s gaze darts between us.

“You’re saying…” she starts hesitantly, “you’re saying that what you and Valen feel for each other has to wait. Until my tragic, untimely death. Until this marriage ends.”

Marek nods. “Yes.”

Stella exhales a shaky breath. “But that means…that means you’re both sacrificing everything for this kingdom, for its perception. Valen, you’re sacrificing your happiness. And Marek…you’re sacrificing him.”

I can’t speak for fear of saying something I’ll regret. But then Marek surprises me. A faint smile tugs at the corner of his lips as he looks up at her.

“It’s not a sacrifice, Stella. It’s a choice. One we’ve made together. Because no matter how long we have to wait, it’ll be worth it. For Valen’s crown. For the kingdom we’ve both sworn to protect. And for us. Because when the time finally comes…” He turns to me, and the certainty in his eyes threatens to undo me. “When it comes, there won’t be anything standing in our way.”

I clear my throat, fighting against the emotion rising in me. “So what you’re saying is you’re planning to make me wait just so I suffer?”

Marek’s smirk returns, though it’s tempered with something deeper, something raw. “Don’t give me too much credit, my prince. You’re the one who makes it worth waiting for.”

Stella reaches out, brushing her fingers along Marek’s jaw as her other hand curls around mine.

“What about you?” I ask, my voice quieter now. “Ever see yourself as a mother?”

Her smile falters, and a shadow of sadness crosses her face. “I think I was looking forward to being a mom more than I ever was to being a wife.” She pauses. “But now I’ll never be either.”

Marek moves without hesitation, lifting her hand to his lips. He presses a kiss to her palm, then rests it back on his chest, next to mine. The gesture is small but filled with so much meaning that my chest tightens.

I glance between them, my gaze sharpening. “What happened?”

Stella hesitates, then lets out a shaky breath. “Ironically, I was supposed to have already had a wedding. But I called it off after I found out he’d been screwing around on me for well over a year.” She swallows hard, and her gaze drifts to the pool of water in the distance. “Pretty much destroyed my faith in the concept of true love and honest partners. At least where I’m concerned.”

My teeth clench, anger simmering at the thought of someone betraying her like that. “You shouldn’t let that bastard’s actions cast a shadow over the rest of your life, Stella.”

“He’s right.” Marek adds. “Just because you gave your trust and love to someone who wasn’t worthy of it doesn’t mean there aren’t others out there who are. Trust me. I know.”

I squeeze his hand, silently thanking him for saying what I couldn’t quite articulate. “You’d be an incredible mother. I can see it now—little girls with your curls and sass running circles around Marek’s children. And little boys with your light brown eyes talking circles around Marek himself.”

She laughs, the sound like music, and Marek scoffs as he props himself up on his elbows. “My kids besting yours in the sparring ring, just like I do you? Sounds about right.”

I smirk as he stands, his breeches hanging dangerously low on his hips as he strides toward the water. He splashes his face, his voice carrying back to us.

“Face it, Valen, royalty or not, my lineage would dominate yours.”

Stella grins and leaps to her feet like a cat. She sneaks up behind him, and with one swift shove, she pushes him into the pool. The splash is nothing short of spectacular, the water spraying high into the air as Marek resurfaces with a glare, water streaming down his face.

“Really?”

She doubles over laughing, her curls bouncing as she clutches her stomach. I can’t help but join in.

Marek’s dark eyes narrow, and he extends a hand toward her. “Help me out then.”

The moment her fingers touch his, he yanks her into the water with him. Her shriek turns into a burst of laughter as she surfaces, pushing her riotous curls back from her face.

For a moment, I allow myself to dream. To imagine a world where this isn’t temporary. Where Stella doesn’t have to leave. Where the three of us can exist together—not as a secret, not as a lie, but as something real and lasting, days like this stretching endlessly into the future.

But reality always has a way of intruding, no matter how sweet the fantasy.

My thoughts shift to the message I received earlier this morning. The initial report of Elara’s sighting in the Kingdom of Pentacles had been hopeful, but the new details darkened it considerably. She’d reportedly been captured by a pawn dealer and sold at auction to a traveler described as intimidating in size and demeanor.

I haven’t told Stella yet. Not because I doubt her strength—her resilience is one of the things I admire most about her—but because the information isn’t confirmed. If it’s true, if Elara really has been taken…? I need more answers before burdening her with the worst-case scenario.

So for now, I hold on to the secret, letting this moment of peace and laughter stretch a little longer.

“Is that all you’ve got, Captain?” Stella’s teasing voice pulls me back to the present just as she launches another water attack at Marek.

He laughs before lunging toward her, his strong arms catching her easily and pulling her under with him. When they both resurface, Marek’s black eyes glint, his hair dripping as he shakes off the water like a wolf, while Stella’s radiant smile seems to outshine even the sun.

I let myself smile too. Not because the weight on my chest has lifted—it hasn’t—but because for now, they’re happy. We’re happy.

And I’ll do whatever it takes to protect that happiness for as long as I have the power to do so.