[Lavinia’s POV — Irethene Meadows—Continuation]
The air smelled of fresh grass and honey.
Papa and Regis were already arguing about who would set up the picnic tent correctly, both acting like generals preparing for battle. Nanny tried to intervene, waving a spoon like it was a royal decree, while Ravick pretended not to notice, busy feeding snacks to Marshi, who clearly had no intention of behaving.
Solena was relaxing on a tree branch.
Meanwhile, I spread out the blanket under a shady oak tree, glancing at Osric as he carried the basket toward me. His sleeves were rolled up, sunlight tracing his arms—and just like that, my heart forgot how to behave.
"Need help, Lavi?" he asked with a grin.
I raised a brow. "Help or distraction?"
"Can’t it be both?" he teased, sitting beside me.
Before I could reply, Papa’s voice thundered across the meadow, "Osric! The basket better have food, not flirting!"
I choked on my laughter, while Osric muttered under his breath, "I’m starting to think your father can smell emotions from miles away."
"Better get used to it," I whispered, leaning closer. "He’s half emperor, half hawk."
Osric smiled, his eyes softening. "Then I’ll just have to be clever enough to steal my moments between his blinks."
My cheeks flushed, and before I could respond, Marshi leapt between us with a loud roar, stealing the sandwich from Osric’s hand and running off like a victorious thief. The entire meadow erupted in laughter.
"Marshi!" I yelled, chasing after him. "That was for everyone!"
Osric followed, laughing breathlessly, his hand brushing mine as we ran through the tall flowers. For a second—just a second—the world was nothing but sunlight, laughter, and the warmth of his touch.
The flowers brushed against my dress as I darted forward, my laughter spilling into the open air. Marshi roared playfully ahead, clutching the sandwich in his jaws like a prize, while Osric kept pace beside me—his breath warm, his laughter deep and utterly contagious.
When Marshi finally stopped at the riverbank, still chewing triumphantly, I bent down with my hands on my knees, breathless and grinning. "You little thief," I scolded gently.
Before I could straighten up, Osric reached out and tucked a loose strand of hair behind my ear. "He’s not the only one stealing something today," he said softly.
I blinked, glancing up at him. "And what exactly did you steal, my dear boyfriend?"
He smiled faintly, the sunlight glinting off his eyes like liquid gold. "A moment," he murmured. "One where you’re smiling, laughing... and I get to be the reason."
My heart skipped. I turned my face away, pretending to look at Marshi, though my cheeks burned brighter than the sunset reflecting on the river. "You talk too much for a thief," I said, half teasing, half trembling.
Osric chuckled, taking a step closer until his shadow mingled with mine. "Then maybe I should let my actions speak?"
I looked up—right as he leaned down, slow and careful, his hand brushing against mine. The world went still. Even the river seemed to hush. My breath caught, my pulse loud in my ears.
"Osric..." I whispered.
"Hmm?"
"Papa will—"
"Kill me?" He smiled, his voice barely above a whisper. "Worth it."
His lips met mine before I could reply—gentle at first, a whisper of warmth against my skin. Then deeper, steadier, as if the world itself tilted toward that single, stolen heartbeat. My fingers clutched his sleeve without meaning to, pulling him closer. The scent of wildflowers, the soft hum of the breeze, and the faint taste of honey—it was all him.
When we finally pulled apart, our foreheads rested together, breaths mingling.
"You’re reckless," I whispered.
"And you’re dangerous," he replied, smiling. "Because every time you smile, I forget to be careful. You’re so tempting, Lavi."
I laughed softly, brushing my thumb over his cheek. "We’re both doomed then."
"Gladly," he said, and pressed another quick, mischievous kiss to my lips before Marshi roared again—loud enough to make us jump apart.
Somewhere in the distance, Papa’s voice echoed faintly, "OSRIC!"
We both froze. Then Osric whispered, "...We run."
And so we did—hand in hand, laughing like fugitives in love.
***
[Emperor Cassius Pov—Same Time—Under the Oak Tree]
Sigh.
The sound slipped out before I could stop it. I tilted my head back against the tree, the cool shade doing little to ease the burning thought running through my mind.
My daughter. My little Lavi... being so damn flirtatious.
I took a long sip of wine, the bitterness matching my mood.
"Where in the seven hells did she even learn that?" I muttered darkly, my jaw tightening. "I banned romance in the palace for a reason. I personally erased every court bard’s love song. And yet—there she is—batting her eyes and melting that fool Osric like butter in the sun."
Regis’ lazy voice cut through my thoughts. "Are you not going to keep an eye on your daughter and my son?"
I didn’t even glance at him at first. I just swirled the wine in my glass, watching the crimson reflection shimmer. "I want to," I said finally, my tone flat but sharp enough to cut glass. "But if I do, I’ll ruin her mood—and possibly her entire birthday."
Regis raised a brow, lowering himself beside me. "That’s... surprisingly reasonable of you, Cassius."
I gave him a sideways look, cold and half amused. "Don’t mistake restraint for softness, Regis. The only reason I’m letting your son breathe in her direction is because she’s smiling. And nothing—nothing—matters more to me than that."
He chuckled under his breath. "So the tyrant emperor finally agreed that he has a weakness after all."
I smirked faintly, eyes fixed on the horizon. "Call it what you will. I call it fatherhood. If she’s happy, I can swallow my ego. My dissatisfaction with Osric, his ridiculous smiles, and even your constant presence."
Regis hummed. "That’s almost poetic coming from you."
I downed the rest of my wine and set the cup aside. "Don’t get used to it. If your son lays a finger too far out of line, I’ll end the romance and the royal line in one swing."
Regis laughed, shaking his head. "Still the same Cassius—terrifying even when being sentimental."
I smirked, leaning back. "Good. I’d hate to think I’m getting soft."
Regis settled beside me, his tone softening in a way I wasn’t used to hearing. "You know, Cassius... I’m happy to see my son smiling again. At least he’s found someone who won’t abandon him the way his mother did."
I turned my head slightly, studying him. "You’re being rather sentimental yourself today, Regis."
He gave a short, humorless chuckle. "Maybe. But you didn’t see him back then... that boy was broken. Two years old, chasing after her carriage, crying her name as she left without looking back."
For a moment, silence hung between us. The wind rustled through the tall grass, carrying the laughter of our children somewhere in the distance.
I stared at the sky, the wine in my hand catching the fading light. "You raised him well," I said quietly.
Regis smiled faintly, a rare, genuine one. "I suppose I did. He’s become a man I’m proud of. And you..." His gaze flicked to me. "You raised a princess strong enough to carry an empire on her shoulders—and still find room in her heart for love."
I let out a slow breath, the corner of my mouth twitching upward. "Then perhaps we’ve done something right after all."
He lifted his glass. "To successful parenting."
I raised mine to meet his, the crystal clinking softly between us. "To our children... may they never inherit our mistakes."
We drank in silence, two fathers—once rivals, now bound by pride, regret, and the quiet hope that maybe... just maybe... their children would build a better story than theirs.