"Princess," he said with a low voice, almost a murmur, so as not to startle her further. He did ask why she was crying.
He simply knew, he had fought beside her, watched her carry the crushing burden of the siege, and now, he saw the cracking of her resolve.
Viana could only shake her head, tears began to well up again. Embarrassment warred with an overwhelming need for comfort.
She had always prided herself on her strength and composure in this life. To be seen like this, by Reyes of all people, felt like a breach in her carefully constructed fortress.
Reyes, however, did not flinch or comment. He simply took another silent step, closing the distance between them.
His eyes held no judgment, only a deep and quiet understanding. He had seen the horrors of battle, the price of command given to him. He knew the weight of such responsibility.
Without a word, he simply opened his arms.
Viana hesitated for only a fraction of a second. Then, all the carefully built walls crumbled.
She moved towards him, a raw, aching cry escaping her lips, and buried her face in his chest. His chest, solid and warm beneath the soft fabric, was an anchor. She felt the steady beat of his heart.
Reyes held her. His arms, strong and accustomed to the weight of battle, wrapped around her securely. He did not pat her back or offer platitudes.
He simply held her, letting her tears soak into his tunic. He felt the tremors that ran through her body, the quiet sobs that racked her slender frame.
He had no words, no explanations for the strange pull that had drawn him to her balcony. He had just known, with a certainty that defied logic, that she would be here, alone and would be drowning in the aftermath.
The cheers from the city below seemed to grow louder, then fade into a distant hum. In the quiet sanctuary of the princess’s chambers, bathed in the soft glow of moonlight, Viana allowed herself to truly break.
***
The morning sun, gentle and pale, filtered through the high arched window of Viana’s chambers. It painted soft stripes across the heavy drapes and illuminated dust motes dancing in the air.
Viana stirred, a low moan escaping her lips as a dull ache spread through her body. Not the searing, terrifying pain she knew so intimately, but the deep, bone-weary exhaustion of battle and emotional release.
She opened her eyes slowly, blinking against the light. The soft mattress beneath her felt unfamiliar, yet safe.
Then she remembered, the balcony. Reyes.
She turned her head, her gaze falling upon the man beside her. Reyes lay on his back, his breathing even and deep, the gentle rise and fall of his chest a steady rhythm.
His face, stripped of its usual disciplined mask, was relaxed in sleep, surprisingly vulnerable. His dark-brown hair, still slightly disheveled, fanned across the pillow.
The linen of his open tunic, still slightly damp with her tears, was soft against her cheek. One of his strong arms was still around her, holding her close to his side.
She was tucked against him, her head resting on her shoulder, her hand curled against his chest.
A warmth, different from the initial rush of desperate comfort, bloomed in her chest. It was a quiet, profound solace.
She had not slept truly, deeply, in what felt like years. Not since... not since the nightmare began.
But here, beside Reyes, in the aftermath of a war that had exposed her deepest tormentor, she had found a sanctuary.
His presence was solid, unwavering, a silent promise of protection she hadn’t dared to dream of.
She shifted slightly, just enough to see his face more clearly. He was not handsome in the classical, regal way of Rayne or even Arin, but his features were strong, etched with character and unwavering loyalty.
His closed eyes, usually so sharp and observant, yet so melancholic, spoke of a rare peace. A faint, almost imperceptible frown creased his brow even in sleep, a testament to the burdens he carried.
Viana’s mind drifted, replaying the raw emotion of the previous night. The sudden crumbling of her composure, the desperate, aching need for comfort, and Reyes’s quiet, intuitive response.
He had not questioned, not judged. He had simply held her, absorbing her pain, offering a silent strength she desperately needed.
The memory of his embrace brought a fresh wave of quiet tears, but this time, they were not of suffering, but of overwhelming gratitude.
She felt a slight tremor in his arm, a subtle shift in his breathing. Reyes was waking.
His eyes fluttered open, slightly unfocused for a moment, before they cleared and met hers. There was no surprise in them, no awkwardness. Only a deep, calm understanding.
"Princess," he murmured, his voice rough with sleep, but soft. His grip on her tightened almost imperceptibly, as if reassuring himself she was truly there.
Viana offered a small, watery smile. "Reyes," she whispered, her voice still hoarse from weeping. "Thank you."
He didn’t need to ask for what. He simply nodded, a slight inclination of his head.
He looked towards the window, where the sun was now higher, casting a warmer glow into the room. "The city sleeps in peace now," he noted, his voice returning to its more accustomed even tone.
Viana listened. The sounds of celebration from the previous night had faded. Now, there was only the gentle murmur of a city slowly waking, the distant call of a bird, the clatter of a cart far below.
Peace. True peace.
"It is strange," Viana said, her voice barely audible. "To feel so... light. After so long."
Reyes turned his gaze back to her, his eyes intense. "The truth has a way of doing that," he said quietly. "Even if it is a grim truth."
He seemed to know, instinctively, that she was speaking not just of the war, but of the deeper, hidden horrors.
She simply nodded, unable to articulate the full extent of the nightmare that had been her life under Lazarus’s roof. Reyes, in his quiet way, understood more than anyone else. His presence, his unwavering support, had been a constant in a life that had become a storm.
They lay there for a few more moments, the quiet intimacy of the morning a fragile bubble against the harsh reality of the world outside. Then, a knock, soft but insistent, came from the chamber door.