I woke in a white room, with a mechanical cold that seemed to force calm into the air. The steady beeping of the monitors wrapped around me, each sound marking a heartbeat I wasn’t even sure I had regained. Cables ran from my arms, bandages tightened across my torso, my legs felt heavy, and my mind hovered in a haze close to nothingness.

  Around me, Velka, Caelia, and Neyra lay in aligned beds, dressed in the same pale gowns, asleep, so still it felt as if time itself dared not touch them. The silence was so perfect it hurt.

  I remembered the last push before extraction—how every step had felt like carrying the weight of the world. The memory still burned in my arms, in my chest, in the scar that refused to let me forget I had died. And yet, here we were. Alive. Marked not only by wounds, but by something else inside me: anger, the Crown’s sword… impossible, forbidden, and yet beating with me as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

  A nurse entered, her calm steps contrasting with the knot still lodged in my throat. She smiled softly when she saw me awake.

  —How do you feel? —she asked, her voice gentle, almost maternal.

  —I’m fine, —I lied, because I didn’t know how to tell her the worst wound wasn’t visible. —And them? —I gestured to my friends.

  —They are in perfect health, —she assured—. Everything has been given to them to recover quickly. You are stable as well.

  —Could you… disconnect me? —I asked, longing to feel free, even just a little.

  She nodded, moving with the calm of someone who had done this a thousand times. The chill of the wires leaving my skin sent a shiver through me, and the silence of the monitors was a strange relief, as though I was breathing with my own lungs for the first time in days.

  When she left, I dragged their beds closer, one by one, until the four of us formed a circle. A ring of exhausted bodies, sisters who had stood at the edge. I sat in the middle, willing to wait as long as it took.

  Caelia was the first to open her eyes. She looked at me in confusion and fatigue, lips dry, her voice barely a murmur.

  —Where are we?

  —Back at base. Safe, —I answered, hugging her tightly. Feeling her trembling body against mine, the simple fact that she was breathing tore a sigh from me that I had been holding for hours.

  —And Neyra? Velka? —the urgency was pure Caelia.

  —They’re fine. Just sleeping. They’ll wake soon.

  Caelia fell silent. Then, fixing her gaze on me, she said firmly:

  —Show me the sword, Lyss.

  I hesitated. I still didn’t understand what it was, or what it meant. But I nodded. Closing my eyes, I placed my hand on my abdomen. The touch of the scar sent a shiver down my spine; the skin was tender, as if it held a living memory. I pressed, and pain seared through me like a hot iron. I clenched my teeth, stifling a cry, as the flesh parted without blood, letting the blade emerge.

  Blood Crown tore its way out of me, trembling with each breath, pulsing like a second heart that had learned to use my body as its vessel.

  Caelia stared at it in awe.

  —Can I… hold it? —she asked, with a mixture of respect and fear.

  —I don’t think so, —I whispered—. My weapons are part of me, part of my emotion. They shouldn’t answer to other hands.

  But seeing her expression, I extended the hilt. Her fingers brushed mine… and she took it. The blade did not vanish. It remained tangible, heavy, though unresponsive.

  Caelia lifted it slowly, as if cradling something sacred.

  —I don’t feel anything, —she admitted, testing a light swing in the air—. It’s… real, but it doesn’t answer me.

  —Strange, —I murmured—. But you truly can hold it.

  She nodded and handed it back with care. The blade dissolved into a red shimmer as it returned to my hand. A shiver ran down my spine as the scar burned again, reminding me that every invocation was another tear carved into me.

  —What is really happening, Caelia? —I asked, searching her eyes for an answer.

  Caelia sighed, lowering her gaze.

  —I don’t know, Lyss. But we’ll find out together.

  Before I could process more, I heard a soft murmur beside me. I turned and saw Neyra beginning to open her eyes. Without thinking, I leaned over to hug her, relieved to see her awake.

  —Lyss… —she murmured, her voice hoarse, her brow furrowed in pain—. My arm… it’s still stiff.

  —I know, —I said, holding back tears—. I’m sorry, Neyra. But I’m so glad you’re awake.

  She looked at me, trying to smile, though the discomfort of the cast showed in every movement.

  —Are we safe? —she asked.

  Caelia and I exchanged a glance, then nodded together.

  —Yes. It’s over… for now, —Caelia answered with a sigh.

  Another murmur interrupted us. Velka slowly opened her eyes, blinking as though the light itself was too much.

  —Is this heaven? —she rasped—. Because if it is, why am I seeing such beautiful angels?

  Neyra tapped her forehead lightly with her good hand.

  —Can’t you ever be serious, Aurel?

  —Ow! —Velka protested, pulling a pout—. Even on my deathbed you hit me.

  I couldn’t help but laugh, a sound that tasted of relief. Even Caelia let out a small laugh—rare for her—and Neyra soon joined, laughing through tears. For a moment, the white room stopped feeling sterile and cold: it became a warm corner where the outside world couldn’t touch us.

  We stayed like that, laughing and looking at one another, knowing something irreversible had changed, but also knowing we still had this: the certainty that we weren’t alone. Velka turned toward me, wearing that crooked smile that always seemed to defy fate.

  —Lyss… what you awakened is something unique. But don’t worry, we won’t let you face it alone —she said, with a certainty that filled me with calm.

  Neyra nodded, pressing her casted arm close to her chest.

  —We’ll figure it out together. Like always.

  And Caelia, with her steady voice, sealed the promise:

  —No matter what comes. We’ll face it… the four of us.

  The nurses entered shortly after, removing the last monitors and cables. On our beds they placed our dress uniforms: black and red, embroidered with Seravenn’s golden insignia. The contrast with the white gowns was a reminder of who we truly were. One of them, with a kind voice, informed us:

  —You have a meeting at the palace. The Grand Hall awaits.

  Velka arched an eyebrow, that spark never leaving her.

  —The palace? Maybe they’ll give us another medal to brag about?

  Neyra rolled her eyes, though her tone was more serious.

  —It’s unusual to be summoned there. Normally these meetings are at headquarters. This must be important.

  Caelia adjusted her belt with precise movements, her words calm but heavy with meaning.

  —The Queen only calls us to the palace when she wants to speak directly. When she doesn’t want any other Veil to hear.

  The mere mention of the Queen made me remember the first time I saw her. That look in her eyes: somewhere between respect and something far too close to fear. I shivered, but kept it to myself.

  We dressed and boarded the transport. As we drove through the streets of Seravenn, Velka, as always, broke the tension.

  —What do you think it is this time? Dinner with the royal family? Or the Queen naming us her ladies-in-waiting?

  —Don’t be ridiculous, —Neyra shot back, though she allowed herself a faint smile—. Whatever it is, I hope it’s not just an empty speech.

  I stayed silent, watching out the window. The city looked so calm, as if war and blood had never touched its streets. And yet, every beat of my heart still carried the pulse of battle.

  We arrived at the palace. The marble corridors stretched before us like endless halls, our footsteps echoing in solemn silence. When the golden doors of the Grand Hall opened with a heavy whisper, we were met with a scene that felt out of place: Queen Sheraphine Vaeloria playing with her youngest daughter, Princess Lirael—a dark-haired child whose laughter clashed with everything we had seen in war. Beside her stood Princess Altheara, tall and composed, already at seventeen a striking reflection of her mother.

  The Queen lifted her gaze toward us. Her smile was warm, welcoming—but her eyes… there was a strange glimmer in them, something none of us could name, though it made us hold our breath.

  —Forgive the informality, —she said softly, gesturing for Altheara to take her sister away—. But sometimes family requires immediate attention.

  Caelia, ever calm, whispered:

  —You have a beautiful family, Your Majesty.

  The Queen nodded, granting her a genuine smile, though her eyes remained too fixed, too aware.

  —Thank you, Caelia. I appreciate it.

  Then her gaze swept over us one by one. I felt as though her attention pierced straight through, seeing beyond our wounds and uniforms.

  —You have done more than anyone could ask. You have saved Seravenn from a danger that could have meant our end. For that… you have my eternal gratitude.

  Her words should have comforted me—and they did, in part—but a knot tightened in my stomach. There was weight behind her voice, as if every syllable carried a hidden meaning.

  —You may rest now, —she continued—. You are free to use your time as you wish. The people do not yet know your names, but soon they will. I want Seravenn to know who its goddesses are… though, of course, certain secrets must remain safe.

  We exchanged glances, surprised. There was a strange air in the hall, as though the very marble listened too closely. Then the Queen paused, her eyes fixing on me.

  —Did anything else happen in Eiswacht? —she asked slowly—. Anything you wish to share?

  The air weighed in my lungs. I stepped forward almost without thinking.

  —No, Your Majesty. Nothing else.

  I felt the others tense beside me, understanding my choice to keep silent. I wasn’t even sure why I was doing it myself.

  The Queen held my gaze for an instant. She said nothing. But in her eyes I saw a flash—not doubt, but certainty. As though she already knew what I was denying.

  At last, she dismissed us. As we withdrew, Velka gave me a curious look.

  —Why did you lie to the Queen? —she whispered.

  —I don’t know, —I admitted—. I just… felt it was necessary.

  —You know this binds all of us, —Caelia said, firm but without reproach. Then she nodded. —I’ll accept it. I trust your instinct.

  Neyra patted my shoulder with her casted arm.

  —It was a tactical move. Well done.

  —Please, don’t encourage her, —Velka muttered, rolling her eyes.

  I smiled faintly, though the knot inside me remained.

  —Thank you. But honestly… I did it because it felt right. Nothing more.

  When we stepped into the cold air outside, I stopped and looked at them.

  —I’m going out for a while. Somewhere special.

  They understood immediately. Velka let out a soft laugh.

  —Missing your man already? Weren’t my attentions enough?

  —Don’t be an idiot, Velka, —Neyra snapped—. Let her go. She’s earned it.

  Caelia held my gaze, serious.

  —Remember what I told you. And take care of yourself.

  —I will, —I promised, my heart pounding hard.

  I silently gave thanks for them. For the ones who understood without asking too many questions. And so, with calm steps and a smile I couldn’t hold back, I walked toward where I knew something more than words was waiting for me… I walked toward Silas.

  Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

  The city stretched quiet around me—too quiet. I passed a small market where a vendor arranged bright fruit under the sun; further on, two soldiers chatted idly at a corner; I even saw a pair of children playing in the snow, their laughter an impossible echo after everything I had lived. Every step was a contrast: the world kept turning, but inside me, the pulse of battle still reverberated.

  The walk from the palace to Silas’s house felt automatic, like moving through a dream. Every heartbeat thudded in my ears like a drum. The ache in my muscles, the sting of my wounds—all of it blurred the moment I thought of him.

  When I reached his door, my breath caught. I knocked softly, but no answer came. For a moment my heart sank. Was he not home? I was about to knock again when I heard his voice behind me, gentle, carrying that warmth that always found me.

  —Looking for someone special?

  I spun around, and there he was: Silas, with that smile that seemed to light up even the cracks of my scars. I couldn’t stop myself. I threw my arms around him, holding on so tightly I thought I might dissolve in his embrace. He lifted me off the ground with ease, making me feel safe, small, and infinite all at once.

  Our lips met in a kiss that said everything: a kiss as if it were the last, as if neither war nor the whole world could ever separate us. When we finally broke apart, his clear eyes were full of affection… and a flicker of concern.

  —I’ve missed you so much, Lyss.

  —Me too… —I whispered, trembling, burying my face against his chest, drowning in his scent, his warmth, the certainty that I was alive.

  Silas’s gaze dropped, his fingers brushing over the bruises along my arm. He gave a crooked smile and caressed one as if he could erase it with a single touch.

  —And the other one? —he asked softly—. Did she end up the same or worse?

  I laughed, despite everything, meeting his eyes with playful defiance.

  —I promise you: she ended up much worse.

  He kissed my cheek and guided me inside, his hand firm around mine. I sank onto the sofa, and he immediately sprawled beside me, resting his head in my lap. My fingers slid into his hair, stroking it with a care that hurt in my chest.

  —Tell me, —he asked, looking up at me with that smile that always disarmed me.

  —Alright… —I breathed deep and began. I told him almost everything: the mission, the destruction of Project Aurora, the final assault. But I left out the darkest part—my death. It wasn’t the time. I did tell him about the new emotion that had awakened: anger. I explained how it felt, how it was different from rancor.

  —Anger? —he repeated, surprised—. Isn’t that dangerous?

  —A little, —I admitted with a faint smile—. But it’s also… liberating.

  —And the sword? —he asked, curious.

  With effort, I summoned it. Heat seared through my scar, that pain that always followed me, and Blood Crown emerged, resting across my thighs. Silas stared at it in fascination.

  —It’s beautiful… though I hope it didn’t cost you anything too great.

  I lied softly. —No, don’t worry. I’m fine.

  He sighed, brushing my cheek with his hand, trusting. I nodded, though in my abdomen the scar burned sharp and merciless, reminding me the price was real.

  The blade pulsed faintly. Silas, curious, reached a hand out, brushing the air near its edge. I reacted before thinking, pulling the sword away, my heart racing. He blinked at me in surprise, then chuckled.

  —Relax, I wasn’t going to touch it. —His mischievous smile eased the tension, but inside me lingered the bitter certainty that I had been one breath away from hurting him.

  —And your “wife” from the mission? —he asked suddenly, teasing—. Wasn’t she your best friend? Or should I be worried about Velka?

  —Silas… —I protested, caught between laughter and embarrassment—. Don’t start.

  —I’m only asking if she kisses better than me.

  —Silas! —I tapped his forehead, though I was smiling—. I swear, no one compares to you.

  He rose a little, pressing a kiss to my hand.

  —I love you, Lyss. More than anything.

  —And I love you, Silas. More than anything.

  We stayed like that for a while, in a world of our own. Then he sighed.

  —You know what? Let’s go out. A walk, something simple. Just you and me.

  —Don’t you think people will notice a girl in a Seravenn uniform? —I asked with a soft laugh.

  —And what if they do? —he countered, kissing me quickly—. They might mistake us for two ordinary soldiers. Still… they wouldn’t find anyone more beautiful than you.

  —Silas… —I said, my heart thundering—. Alright, let’s go.

  We stood together. For an instant, war, death, and cold all vanished. The world shrank to just two people in love, blind to the wound destiny was already preparing to drive between them.

  The afternoon air was fresh, carrying that scent of flowers and damp leaves that always made me think of home. We walked down the cobblestone streets hand in hand, as if we had done this a thousand times. The pain in my body was still there, but with him beside me it became easier to bear.

  Silas glanced at me with a conspiratorial smile.

  —Where do you want to go first?

  —I don’t know… —I shrugged—. Anywhere we can forget the world for a while.

  —A walk by the river, maybe? —he suggested—. There’s a little café where we can sit and watch the boats pass.

  —That sounds perfect, —I said, smiling.

  We walked slowly, talking about everything and nothing: life at the academy, the pranks he used to pull on his classmates, how the world seemed gentler when we were together. The bustle of the city surrounded us: street vendors offering sweets, musicians playing cheerful tunes, children running with scarves too long for them. It was a living world, so different from the brutality of Eiswacht that it felt like a dream.

  —Do you remember the first time we came here? —Silas asked, nostalgia gleaming in his eyes.

  —Of course… —I laughed softly—. You were so nervous you nearly tripped over a statue.

  —That wasn’t my fault, —he protested, rolling his eyes—. That statue was right in the middle of the path.

  —Sure, Silas. Blame the statue, —I teased, nudging him with my shoulder.

  He feigned offense but soon burst out laughing, and his laughter—warm, contagious—made me forget everything else for a moment.

  When we reached the café, we ordered two hot chocolates and a pair of sweets so delicate they looked too beautiful to eat. We sat at a table outdoors, right by the river. The water reflected the golden light of sunset, boats swayed gently, and for a moment everything seemed perfect.

  Until we heard the voices. Two men at a nearby table spoke quietly, unaware of us.

  —Yeah, they say those magical girls saved the country… —one muttered.

  —Saved or doomed it, —the other replied—. Wherever they show up, death follows. No one wields that much power without paying a price.

  Silas squeezed my hand under the table, looking away. I turned my eyes toward the river, pretending not to hear. But the sharp pang in my chest told me those doubts were already spreading, even here, at home.

  Silas sighed, trying to bring back the warmth.

  —You know? —he said, sipping his chocolate—. Sometimes I think I don’t deserve all this. You, here with me.

  I frowned.

  —Why would you say that?

  —Because you’re so much stronger than I am, Lyss. You’ve seen things I couldn’t even imagine. And yet… here you are, with me.

  I leaned closer, cupping his face in my hands.

  —Silas, don’t say that. This… us… we built it together. Whatever happens outside doesn’t matter.

  He nodded, though I still caught a flicker of insecurity in his eyes.

  —I know, —he whispered—. It’s just… sometimes it scares me how much I love you.

  —Me too, —I admitted softly—. But I don’t want it to scare me. Not when I’m with you.

  We stayed in silence, staring at each other as if the rest of the world had disappeared. Then I felt a brief burn in my abdomen, the scar reminding me of its presence. I hid it with a smile, running my fingers through Silas’s hair as he leaned forward and kissed me—slow and tender.

  The world kept turning, but in that moment there was only him and me.

  Afterward, we walked a little further along the riverside promenade. We saw children playing in the snow, couples strolling arm in arm, old men feeding birds along the stone walls. Everything seemed so normal, so peaceful, that for a moment I forgot we were soldiers, that the war still raged beyond these streets.

  At one point, Silas stopped in front of a small craft shop.

  —Give me a minute, will you? There’s something I want to look at.

  —Of course, —I said with a smile.

  I watched him walk away, and while I waited, my eyes wandered to a nearby clothing store. I didn’t know why, but a thought crossed my mind: I didn’t want to sleep in my military uniform that night. I went inside, the sound of the little bell wrapping me in the scent of fresh wood and neatly folded fabric. My fingers trailed over the racks until I found a simple pajama, soft and light-colored. I brushed the fabric with my fingertips: it was smooth, warm to the touch, something that would make me feel comfortable and… normal.

  Then I saw another piece, more discreet but impossible to ignore: a delicate lingerie set, subtle lace, nothing vulgar. I hesitated, my heart racing. But I thought of Silas, of his eyes when he looked at me, of how I wanted this night to be special. I took both: the pajama and the set. Paying for them, I felt my cheeks burn, as if everyone could read my thoughts.

  I stepped out of the shop just in time to see Silas returning, a small wooden box in his hand.

  —What did you buy? —I asked, curious.

  —A hair brooch for you, —he said, smiling as he opened it to show me.

  Inside was a silver lily-shaped brooch, with a small blue stone set in the center. It caught the sunset light and glimmered softly.

  —I thought you’d like it. It represents purity and protection, —he added in almost a whisper.

  —It’s beautiful, —I said, touching it gently—. Thank you, Silas.

  —And you? —he asked, nodding toward the bag I carried—. What did you get?

  Heat crept up my face.

  —Just… a pajama. I don’t have anything to wear for sleeping, —I answered quickly, leaving out the other purchase.

  He smiled and bent to kiss my forehead.

  —Perfect. Whatever it is, I’m sure you’ll look beautiful in it.

  Silas led me to a small square where two musicians were playing a violin and a lute. The melody floated through the air, soft at first and then livelier. We stayed to listen until he turned to me with a mischievous smile.

  —Care to dance?

  —Here? —I asked, surprised.

  —Why not? —he replied, offering his hand—. We’re just two people in love.

  I laughed, nervous but happy, and took his hand. We danced slowly, following the improvised rhythm of the music. The square filled with curious glances and laughter, but we didn’t care. His hand at my waist, my fingers laced with his, every step was a reminder that we were still alive. People around us smiled, as if sharing in our stolen moment of joy.

  When the music ended, we stayed in each other’s arms. I rested my head on his shoulder and felt him breathe deeply, as if he wanted to treasure every second.

  —Lyss… —he whispered, stroking my hair—. Thank you for coming back.

  —I’ll always come back to you, Silas, —I replied, closing my eyes.

  We kept walking through the city until night began to fall. The streetlamps lit one by one, casting golden light across the cobblestones. Hand in hand, we returned to his house, our glances full of love and unspoken promises.

  Night had fallen completely by the time we reached his apartment. The soft glow of the streetlamps painted the street in golden light, and the cold air made the warmth of his hand entwined with mine all the more comforting.

  When the door closed behind us, silence wrapped around us. There was nothing else—just the two of us, after so much time apart, with all the tension finally giving way. Silas looked at me with that tenderness in his eyes that always made me feel I could surrender to his arms without fear. I squeezed his hand, my breath a little uneven.

  —Silas… —I murmured, unsure—. Do you mind if…?

  He smiled, brushing my cheek with the tip of his fingers.

  —If what, Lyss?

  —If… —I drew a deep breath—. If I take a quick bath. I just… want to feel a little more… myself.

  Silas nodded, kissing my forehead.

  —Of course. Take your time, —he said with that warmth of his that always made me feel safe.

  I stepped into the bathroom and looked at the mirror. The reflection staring back at me showed a woman with shadows under her eyes, bruises along her skin… but also something new in her gaze: strength and resolve. I shed the uniform piece by piece, feeling lighter with every garment that fell to the floor, as though I were peeling away the war itself. From the bag, I pulled out the lingerie set. Just holding it in my hands made my cheeks burn. I hesitated, but I knew I had chosen it for this moment—for him, for me, for us.

  When I came out, wrapped in a robe, I found him sitting on the edge of the bed, his head in his hands, as if steadying his own nerves. When he lifted his gaze, his eyes widened slightly, lingering on me, on how the edge of the robe barely covered what lay beneath.

  —Lyss… —he whispered, as though my name were a prayer.

  I walked to him, letting my hands find his face. He caught them in his own, kissing them as though they were the most precious thing in the world.

  —I’ve thought about you so much… —he murmured, voice trembling—. All this time, I only wanted you to come back. To be safe. To be here… like this.

  —I know, —I answered in a trembling voice—. I wanted it too, Silas. And now that we’re here… —I leaned in, brushing his lips with mine in the softest kiss—. I don’t want anything to pull us apart. Not tonight.

  He looked at me with more than desire: with that connection that had always bound us, even across the distance. Rising to his feet, his hands slid down my arms until they found the knot of the robe. I nodded, and he untied it gently. The fabric slipped to the floor like a symbol of what I was leaving behind: the armor, the uniform, the war.

  The silence was so intense I could hear my own heartbeat, fast and steady. He looked at me as if it were the first time he was truly seeing me, and I felt vulnerable, exposed… but also stronger than ever.

  —You’re so beautiful… —he whispered, the warmth of his words searing into me.

  I stepped closer, never breaking his gaze. Our lips met again, this time with more urgency, though still with the tenderness only he could give me. His hands found my waist, holding me with such firmness it made me tremble.

  —I love you, Lyss, —he murmured against my lips.

  —And I love you, —I whispered back.

  We moved carefully, like two people discovering one another for the very first time. Every caress, every kiss carried the weight of something sacred, as though we were carving a before and after into existence. He guided me gently to the bed, and when I lay down, his eyes locked with mine, silently asking if this was truly what I wanted. I nodded, and he understood.

  His breath trembled as he pulled off his shirt. The gesture was intimate, more than physical—it was him shedding his own armor. For a moment we simply looked at each other, that silence sealing a promise.

  —Never… —he whispered, his voice shaking—. I’ve never done this, Lyss.

  —Me neither… —I confessed, with a nervous smile.

  It wasn’t perfect. It was clumsy and sweet, filled with quiet laughter and hushed words, with shared discoveries and touches that seemed to set us alight from within. It wasn’t just physical—it was the certainty that, despite everything, we still had each other.

  When at last we collapsed together on the bed, exhausted and clinging to one another as if the world might crumble around us, I knew this moment would always be ours. Whatever tomorrow brought, this night belonged to us.

  He kissed my forehead and held me tightly, as though he’d never let me go. I closed my eyes, listening to his breathing, soaking in the warmth of his body pressed to mine.

  If only this moment could last forever, I thought, fully aware of how fragile it was.

  In the midst of chaos and war, we had found a moment of peace. A moment just for us.