When Desire Became Dangerous.
503 Words
Weeks passed—weeks filled with stolen conversations, lingering touches, and the slow unraveling of every wall Seraphina had built to protect herself.
What began as mutual curiosity had grown into something fierce, something that lived in the space between their breaths, something neither kingdom would forgive.
The Growing Storm
One evening, Adrien entered the tower room with tension radiating off him. His jaw was tight, his steps sharp.
“Adrien… what is wrong?”
He hesitated before answering.
“My council suspects something.”
Her heart stopped.
“They think I’m… compromised. That I’m treating the prisoner”—he spat the word—“with too much leniency.”
She stiffened. “Then I should go back to the dungeon.”
“No.” His voice was a low snarl. “Never again.”
He took her hands, gripping them as though afraid she’d vanish.
“If they force me to choose between you and them—”
“Don’t say it,” she cut in, breath trembling. “You can’t destroy your legacy for me.”
He stepped closer, forehead against hers.
“Seraphina… I don’t care about legacies. I care about you.”
Her chest tightened with an emotion she couldn’t name. Not yet. Not aloud.
But she couldn’t stop herself from whispering:
“Adrien… they will come for me.”
“Then they’ll face me first.”
And when he kissed her—full, deep, aching—it tasted like a promise he would die to keep.The next morning, Adrien was summoned to the High Council chamber.
Seraphina watched him leave, heart pounding. She knew that if the council discovered the truth of their relationship, they wouldn’t stop at rebuke.
They would execute her.
The Judgement
Adrien stood before twelve elders, their faces carved from stone.
“Your Highness,” Lord Mortain began, “the prisoner from Ravenna is too valuable to remain under your personal oversight.”
Adrien’s stomach dropped.
“Explain,” he demanded.
“You are compromised,” Lady Glenna said sharply. “A man in love is a man who cannot lead.”
Adrien froze.
Love.
They said it like an accusation, but something in his chest answered it like truth.
“You will hand her over,” Mortain commanded. “To interrogators.”
Adrien’s blood turned to fire.
“No.”
The council murmured in outrage.
“You defy us?”
“I protect what is mine.”
A dangerous silence fell.
Mortain thinned his lips. “If you refuse, the king will be informed.”
The king—Adrien’s father—was not a forgiving man. And certainly not a man who tolerated softness in his heir.
But Adrien stood tall.
“Do what you must,” he said coldly. “But Seraphina of Ravenna remains under my protection.”
The Consequence
As he left the chamber, fury and fear twisted inside him.
He knew what he had done.
He had chosen her over his kingdom.
And he would do it again.
- Writer
