Emily's POV
The crown still felt foreign on my head, the weight of it pressing down like all the burdens I’d carried these past months. I stood at the palace balcony after the coronation, the cheers of the people still echoing in the air. Lanterns danced across the night sky, and the moon cast a gentle silver glow over the entire kingdom. It should have been perfect.
But I felt his presence before I saw him.
Damien.
I turned slowly to face him as he stepped into the royal corridor, his posture tense, his expression unreadable. He was dressed in formal attire — dark embroidered robes that suited his princely status — but his eyes, when they met mine, held something raw. Something desperate.
“Emily,” he said quietly, as though saying my name would erase all the pain he caused.
I folded
