Morning sunlight streamed in through the silken drapes, casting golden threads across the emperor's chamber. Lola stirred beneath the tangled sheets, the ache of memory soft and fresh across her skin. Her hand reached across the bed instinctively only to find the space beside her cold.
Empty.
She sat up slowly, the linen slipping down her shoulders. The ache in her chest grew sharper.
He was gone.
A swell of disappointment rose within her, unexpected and unwelcome. After all they'd shared the night before, after baring not just her body, but the deepest corners of her heart she had imagined waking with his arms still around her.
"You're awake."
His voice, low and rough with sleep, broke the silence.
She turned, startled, to find him seated by the window his robe tied loosely, hair tousled, gaze fixed upon her with quiet intensity. A silver tea tray sat before him, steam curling from the delicate porcelain pot.
"I didn't want to wake you," Xander said. "I asked the maids to bring you some tea. I thought you might need it."
Lola blinked, her heart fluttering as she slipped from the bed, clutching the sheet around her.
"Thank you," she said quietly, crossing to him.
He rose as she approached. "Let me."
He poured the tea with practiced ease, his eyes lingering for the briefest moment on the red marks blooming softly along her collarbone. A flicker of a smile ghosted across his lips but it vanished before she could catch it.
"Here," he said, handing her the cup.
"Thank you," she replied again, her fingers brushing his as she took it.
She took a careful sip, the warmth soothing until his next words made her choke.
"You should've told me."
She looked up at him, startled.
"That last night was your first," he clarified, his voice low. "I didn't know. I…Lola, I wouldn't have…"
"Your Majesty!" she exclaimed, blushing fiercely as she turned her face away. "You didn't have to say that."
"I feel guilty," he said plainly. "You gave me something I can never return."
She exhaled shakily, setting the cup down.
"I don't regret it," she whispered. "It was my choice. And I'd make it again."
His chest tightened at her words. She was trying so hard to appear strong, but he could see it, the glint of vulnerability in her eyes, the tremble in her hands.
"Lola…"
"Please," she said quickly, cutting him off. "You don't need to say anything. I know what last night was."
"No," he said softly. "You don't."
A sharp knock interrupted them.
"Your Majesty," came the muffled voice of a royal guard. "You're needed urgently."
Xander's jaw clenched. He looked at her once more, hesitating.
"Go," she said with a strained smile. "Duty calls."
"I'll see you when I return," he promised.
She nodded, and he hesitated once more at the door. Then, with a final glance, he was gone.
The door clicked shut.
Lola stood still for a moment. Then slowly, as the last warmth of his presence faded from the room, she sank back onto the bed. Her shoulders trembled as the weight of everything, the night, the morning, the silence crashed over her.
She pressed a hand to her mouth, trying to contain the sob that slipped through.
But it was no use.
The tears came.