The first few years were blessed with marital bliss.

Shortly after the Prince’s proposal, the two had gotten married in the Holy Temple, where Jovine and Richard declared their vows to one another and to the people of Theolos. It was a grand affair, exceeding in luxury and splendor, but all she would remember from that day was the vision of Richard waiting for her at the end of the altar.

She would never forget it—his monumental form clad in a dark velvet uniformed suit; the graceful sweep of his silky hair billowing in the breeze; and a single yellow rose tucked into his lapel. Although he wore a guarded expression, as soon as their eyes had met, a pleased glint sparked in the depths of his eyes. So, as she allowed the world to fade away, Jovine Rainer walked towards the man possessing her heart, and vowed to love him forever.

That night, Richard and Jovine had become one.

Their bodies and souls joined in a bond more intimate and deeper than any connection she had in her life. With hazy memories of twisted sheets, drenched bodies, and the breathless release of ecstasy, the consummation of her marriage with Richard was a treasured souvenir of their union.

Moving forward, the Prince’s affection for his new bride grew with every sunrise. He would summon her to his chambers more often than not, and their intimacy blossomed into something carnal and seductive. They grew familiar with the bliss of pleasure, and it fed the new Princess’s hope for more.

The more time passed, it became easier to forget the things he couldn’t promise.

It was foolish.

His intentions were always clear. He promised to be a good husband, and in that regard, he upheld his duties. He was her partner, her supporter, her leader.

During official Imperial events, he stayed by her side, unabashedly showing the people his devotion to his new bride. He defended her when she found herself on the receiving end of several disguised barbs from the opposing Eastern Faction, who disapproved of having a Western Princess in power. He kept her company and offered a place of solace in his arms when the loneliness of bearing a crown crushed her with its severity. And he regarded her as an equal in his ambitions for the Empire.

Jovine was happier than she ever thought was possible in a marriage of arrangement rather than choice, but she wanted more.

She wanted to be loved.

Here she was, irrevocably in love with the man, but Richard could never say the same.

She could convince herself he loved her anyway when she woke in his arms, or when he’d spontaneously press his lips to her brow in greeting. She felt promise when he’d summon her at night, eagerly pulling her into his arms the moment she entered. Jovine held onto hope when he’d smile at her from a distance as he watched her take tea with the gracious Empress Helene, who guided her in her studies. But she could never be sure, and asking the Crown Prince of Theolos for more felt like greed.

Even so, she found herself optimistic when she witnessed the way the Emperor loved his Empress. If the current monarchs of the Empire were solidified in a loving marriage, perhaps Richard would be open to finding the same with her one day.

As long as I have Richard, life is good enough for me, she often thought, but as always, the good never lasts.

Shortly after the celebration of her second anniversary with Richard, news of tension in the Northern Borders called the Emperor and his son away from the Palace and to the frozen region of Mallory. The lands belonged to the young Amon vel Feyras, the Grand Duke of Theolos, and Jovine couldn’t shake a strange sense of dread.

“I’ll be back before you know it,” Richard had whispered in consolation on the night before his departure.

Jovine, who was settled comfortably in his arms in bed, turned to look at her husband, unable to conceal the worry lining her face. The moment the Grand Duke was mentioned, her mind had been running with troubled thoughts.

As a distant descendant of royal blood, the family of vel Feyras had a claim to the Throne. Only through the birth of a Tristaine heir would the succession be solidified, and with the unprecedented lack of children from their marriage, the implications of political divide shadowed her concerns.

“It’s been two years, Richard,” she said in an anxious voice. “I have yet to bear you any children.”

He stopped caressing her neck and looked at her curiously. “Is that what you think this is about?”

“Isn’t it?”

A slight tilt of his lips conveyed his amusement at her assumption. “No, not at all,” he said with a smirk as he came to hover over her bare body. “We’re still young, Jovie.”

He lowered himself until they were aligned, and with a teasing brush of his lips against her own, he whispered, “We have years to grow our family, but if you’re so worried about it, we can always be more…diligent when I get back.”

Basking in their dance of pleasure, Jovine and Richard’s last farewell ended with expectation, and when it was time for him to finally go, he kissed her sweetly goodbye. Jovine bid him farewell with a teary smile as he rode off into the night with his father and a handful of Royal Guards. As he faded off into the distance, she prayed he’d come back to her soon.

But, he didn’t.

Months passed with no word.

And every passing day pierced her chest with a fear she had never felt before.

To her utter dismay, life continued. The affairs of both the Empire and the Inner Palace remained intact, and Jovine hated it.

She hated the way life moved on so casually while she was consumed with despair. She hated how it felt like the entire world was in on a secret she wasn’t privy to about the mysterious mission her husband and the Emperor failed to return from. And no matter how many times she inquired about it, she was told nothing.

Even the riders she sent out to retrieve word from her husband never returned.

By the fifth month, Jovine lost her restraint.

Dismissing the protests from her ladies-in-waiting, she burst into the Drawing Room of the Empress’s Palace.

“Princess Jovine,” the Head Lady of the Court chided. “How dare you—”

“Leave us,” Empress Helene instructed her entourage.

With several disapproving glares thrown towards the distressed Princess, the room was emptied. When the click of the door sounded, the Empress, who looked so much like Richard with her dark hair and blue eyes, turned to Jovine with a heavy sigh.

“Jovine, there’s nothing we can do. You and I both know that.”

“I would like to request a small delegation to accompany me to Mallory. If that isn’t possible, I can go myself,” she stated firmly, determined to take matters into her own hands before she truly lost her mind.

Empress Helene’s face darkened. “No.”

Jovine couldn’t help the little jolt of surprise at her bitter tone.

From the beginning, the Empress had been nothing but kind and welcoming. Over the past few months, she had depended on the warmth of her company and the promise she constantly renewed that their husbands would return soon.

She was nothing less of a mother and a mentor who guided her through the dangerous territory of palace intrigue, so her clear dismissal felt jarring.

“Your Majesty,” Jovine started carefully. “No one is telling me anything. If you would just let me know what it is that requires such secrecy —”

“Princess Jovine,” the Empress interjected. “I, nor my husband, have any obligation to divulge confidential Imperial affairs to you. Trust me when I tell you everything is fine.”

Jovine shrunk back in submission, but she couldn’t back down just yet. Not after coming all this way to speak her mind. “It doesn’t feel fine, Your Majesty. My husband is missing, and it kills me to think that something terrible might have happened to him. No one has an obligation to me, yes. But the absence of our sovereign is the concern of the Empire, and the absence of my husband is the concern of mine.”

Empress Helene narrowed her heavy eyes. No matter what she said, she couldn’t conceal how much the whole ordeal was getting to her. Her gaunt eyes and delicate frame exposed just how worried she truly was, and it only heightened the state of panic Jovine felt.

“You say our sovereign is absent,” she replied in a quivering voice. “But I am here. I am ruling.”

“Your Majesty, I did not dare mean—”

“You care much for Richard,” she continued, passing over her words. “But the weight of your distress cannot compare to the anguish I hold for my own husband and son. If you want to help them, you will stay here and adhere to your duties. Am I understood?”

Jovine bit the inside of her cheek until the taste of blood exploded in her mouth. For the first time, the Empress had spoken with candor, but it brought Jovine no source of comfort. If the Empress was in agony for the Emperor, what did it mean for Richard?

Careful not to show the trembles overtaking her fragile body, Jovine curtsied unsteadily and saw herself out. She knew how terribly insolent she was being, yet her state of mind couldn’t handle the fact that there was absolutely nothing she could do.

That night, Jovine cried herself to sleep, for she had never felt so alone before. For five months now, she had gone to bed missing the warmth of her husband beside her, and the deprivation of it felt especially painful that night.

One more month passed, each new day cutting away at her shriveling heart when it faded without news. Little by little, she found herself losing her mind to daunting thoughts of death. She imagined being greeted with Richard’s lifeless body or learning that he had suffered something terrible—all alone, cold, and in excruciating torment. The prospect of someone she loved being lost to her forever was a torture that crippled her very existence. She couldn’t lose him.

Would she even survive it?

But on a dark, rainy night, when all the light was bleached from the world, the roaring thunder announced the return of the Crown Prince of Theolos.

Along with the corpse of the Emperor.