The golden light of sunset bathed the streets of Astoria, casting the capital in a glow of celebration.
Crowds gathered, drums echoed, and joy spilled into every corner of the city—all in honor of one event—Prince Cyrus Evan's triumphant return from a successful diplomatic mission.
In a quiet, secluded tower of the castle, Lia stood by a narrow window, her gaze fixed on the palace gates below. Ever since she'd heard the excited cries of children yelling, "The prince is back!", she hadn't moved from that spot. She thought he would come to her the moment he returned.
But for three days, she waited—and all that came were the servants, delivering meals without a word.
She remained by the window, her expression gradually dimming. She could not speak to ask, nor cry out her disappointment. All she could do was press the growing ache into her silent eyes.
Unbeknownst to her, Cyrus hadn't forgotten.
The moment he crossed the palace gates, his steps had turned instinctively toward her tower—until a soft voice halted him.
"Your Highness."
Vera stood in his path, her smile gentle, her voice calm. "Everyone's watching. If you vanish now, it will cause a stir."
Cyrus faltered, brows knitting. "But—"
"I know," she sighed softly. "Lia is upset. Rightfully so. But I've done my best to comfort her. If you want to see her… take something with you. A gift. A token of how much you care. It will ease her heart."
Cyrus hesitated, then nodded slowly. "A gift…"
Vera's eyes twinkled. "I've heard that during the celebration banquet in three days' time, the Queen plans to present you with the Crown of Startears."
"The Crown of Startears?" His brows lifted. The ornate heirloom was a masterpiece, studded with emeralds and pearls—passed down only by queens, symbolizing inheritance and honor.
Vera smiled. "If you gave that to Lia, she would know exactly what she means to you."
Cyrus fell silent, thinking. At last, he murmured, "You're right."
——
Three days later, the palace shimmered with splendor. Music echoed beneath its gilded domes as nobles from every corner gathered to witness the celebration. At the height of the banquet, the Queen placed the Crown of Startears into Cyrus's hands with a smile.
"This belongs to a lady," she said, her voice teasing, "so I expect you'll place it wisely."
The hall rippled with laughter. All eyes turned toward Vera.
She bowed her head modestly and smiled, the very image of grace.
Cyrus's lips tightened briefly, but he smiled for the crowd. And so, with a silent sigh, he placed the crown upon Vera's head.
He stole a glance at it, unable to hide his thoughts.
It would've looked perfect on Lia.
——
But then, after the banquet, Vera approached him quietly in the corridor—holding the crown in both hands.
"Give this to Miss Lia," she said softly. "It belongs to her."
Cyrus stared at her, stunned. Then emotion flooded his face. "Thank you, Princess… truly."
"You're my husband," she replied with a gentle smile. "Your happiness is my duty."
Cyrus looked at her, words caught in his throat. "I promise I'll be a good husband… I'll give you everything I can. Everything—except my heart."
Vera merely nodded, her expression as calm as moonlight.
——
Back in the tower, Lia waited still. Her eyes had dulled, her gaze often drifting toward the far-off ocean.
Then, at last—soft footsteps echoed beyond the door.
It creaked open.
Cyrus stood there, breathless, cradling a velvet box in his arms.
"I'm sorry, Lia," he said softly. "I was too late."
Lia rose slowly. She didn't smile. She didn't rush into his arms as she once might have. She only looked at him—eyes filled with quiet pain.
Cyrus's heart tightened. He stepped forward and opened the box.
Inside gleamed the Crown of Startears.
"This was meant as a royal gift," he murmured. "But I only ever wanted it for you. Do you like it?"
Lia glanced at it, then looked away.
Cyrus wrapped her in his arms, brushing his lips against her hair. "I missed you," he whispered. "Everything I've done… all of it is for us."
He kissed her—soft and reverent.
After a long pause, Lia lifted her arms and gently embraced him.
Cyrus breathed out, relief flooding his chest. She still loved him. She hadn't let go.
And yet, as he walked away from that tower, Vera's voice lingered in his mind.
"To make you happy… that's my duty."
He thought of how composed she was, how effortlessly she shielded him, supported him, asked for nothing.
If only Lia could be like that—patient, serene, undemanding.
He caught himself.
Was he really thinking this?
Was he comparing them?
——
Three days later.
Vera entered his study, her expression composed but eyes flickering with unease.
"Your Highness… I must confess something."
Cyrus turned. "What is it?"
"The Queen noticed I haven't been wearing the Crown of Startears. I told her I was afraid to damage it. But she… wasn't pleased."
Her voice wavered. "She says I must wear it when I next appear at court. It's a symbol of my role. Of being the crown princess."
She bit her lip, looking away. "I had hoped to avoid this… I'm so sorry, Your Highness. And… please tell Lia I'm sorry, too."
Cyrus stood silent for a long time, then exhaled slowly.
"…I'll go get it back."
"No," Vera said at once. "Let me. I'll explain everything. Lia is kind. She'll understand."
Relief passed through Cyrus's eyes. "Thank you… truly."
Vera bowed her head. She turned and left the room, the folds of her gown brushing the floor like quiet waves.
Behind that graceful exit, her smile curved ever so slightly—cool, unreadable.