Novem

510 25 4
                                    

The room was dim, the only light coming from the flickering embers of the hearth

Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.

The room was dim, the only light coming from the flickering embers of the hearth. The other Archons had retreated into the shadows, giving the Tsaritsa a moment alone with Y/N. He was still asleep, his breathing soft and even, but his body seemed more at peace now that the immediate danger had passed.

The Tsaritsa sat beside him on the edge of the bed, her hand moving slowly through his hair, her fingers gentle as they combed through the soft strands. She had never been one for such tender gestures, and yet, with Y/N, it felt natural—almost instinctive.

She had always hated the world.

Her existence had been shaped by coldness and cruelty, a bitterness that had only grown over the centuries. Her heart had hardened, turning to ice as she watched the world betray her time and time again. Humanity was flawed, corrupt, and unworthy of her compassion. She had vowed long ago never to care for anyone again. To keep herself above it all—untouchable, unreachable.

And yet, here she was. Sitting at the bedside of a boy who had never known her true form, never spoken to her beyond a few words whispered to a doll.

Her fingers paused in his hair for a moment as she studied his face. His features were relaxed in sleep, his expression peaceful despite everything he had been through. He was so young, so fragile, and yet... he had somehow melted the ice she had encased her heart in for millennia.

It didn’t make sense. She had hated everyone. Everything. The world had given her nothing but pain, and she had vowed to give it nothing in return. And yet, this boy—this fragile, mortal boy—had somehow made her feel something she hadn’t thought possible.

Love.

The Tsaritsa let out a quiet sigh, her hand resuming its gentle stroke through Y/N’s hair. How was it possible that a single human had done what thousands of years of existence couldn’t? He had done nothing extraordinary, nothing grand or earth-shattering. He had simply cared for her. He had cleaned her, treated her with kindness, and spoken to her as if she were more than just a broken doll.

It was such a simple thing, and yet it had undone everything she thought she knew about herself.

She had always thought herself incapable of love. Her heart had frozen over long ago, and she had never sought to thaw it. But Y/N... Y/N had changed everything. He made her feel warm. He made her feel wanted. No, not just wanted—cherished. And he didn’t even know it.

The Tsaritsa’s gaze softened as she watched him sleep. She could hardly believe how much she loved him already. They hadn’t even spoken—at least, not truly. He had talked to her in her doll form, not knowing she could hear his every word. And yet, despite the silence between them, she felt an overwhelming attachment to him.

It was more than love. It was devotion.

How much more, she wondered, would this love grow? How much deeper would her feelings run once he knew her, once he saw her for who she truly was? The thought sent a small shiver through her. It frightened her, the intensity of her emotions. But at the same time, it thrilled her. She had always been so detached from the world, so distant from the warmth of others. But now, with Y/N... she felt like she could finally belong to someone.

𝕳𝖟𝖉𝖗𝖆𝖓𝖌𝖊𝖆 𝖒𝖆𝖈𝖗𝖔𝖕𝖍𝖟𝖑𝖑𝖆Where stories live. Discover now