Between Realms of Love

Uncertainty

Leila woke to the sound of distant voices echoing through the palace corridors. She sat up slowly, the weight of the past few days pressing down on her. The message from Elira, the confrontation with Lady Eryndra, the whispers that never seemed to stop—it was all too much. Even the beauty of Cyrithiel, with its sprawling gardens and golden towers, felt muted, like a dream she couldn’t fully grasp.

She pushed herself out of bed, determined to find some clarity. The archives had become her refuge, a place where she could lose herself in books and scrolls that spoke of ancient magic and forgotten histories. Perhaps she could find more answers there—answers about the portals, about her abilities, about who she was supposed to be.

As she stepped into the hallway, a familiar voice stopped her in her tracks.

“You’re still here?”

Leila turned to see Lady Eryndra standing at the end of the corridor, her arms crossed and a smug smile on her lips. The noblewoman’s presence always sent a chill down her spine, but today, it was laced with something more—an unspoken challenge.

“What do you want, Lady Eryndra?” Leila asked, keeping her voice steady.

The noblewoman stepped closer, her eyes gleaming with amusement. “I simply wanted to remind you of your place. Or, rather, your lack of one.”

Leila’s hands clenched at her sides. “I don’t have to explain myself to you.”

“Perhaps not,” Lady Eryndra said with a laugh. “But tell me, Miss Leila, how long do you think this charade can last? The king may favor you now, but how long before he tires of playing house with an outsider?”

Leila’s breath caught, but she refused to let the noblewoman see her falter. “Lucian loves me. That’s all that matters.”

Lady Eryndra’s smile widened. “Love? Is that what you think this is?” She stepped closer, her voice dropping to a whisper. “You’re a distraction, nothing more. And when the novelty wears off, he’ll cast you aside, just like everyone else.”

Leila’s vision blurred with unshed tears, but she held her ground. “You’re wrong.”

Lady Eryndra tilted her head, feigning pity. “Am I? Then why do you look so uncertain?”

Before Leila could respond, the sound of approaching footsteps broke the tension. Lady Eryndra straightened, her mask of politeness snapping back into place as Lucian appeared at the end of the corridor.

His gaze immediately locked onto Leila, darkening as he noticed her tense posture. “Leila,” he said, striding toward her. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing,” Lady Eryndra said smoothly, offering a shallow bow. “I was simply wishing Miss Leila a good morning.”

Lucian’s eyes narrowed, but he said nothing as the noblewoman walked away, her skirts sweeping the floor with practiced elegance. He turned to Leila, his expression softening as he reached for her hand.

“Did she say something to you?” he asked, his voice low.

Leila hesitated, glancing down at their intertwined fingers. “It doesn’t matter. She’s just… trying to get under my skin.”

Lucian’s jaw tightened. “She won’t succeed. I’ll make sure of it.”

For a moment, his protectiveness soothed her, but the weight of Lady Eryndra’s words lingered. She wanted to believe in Lucian, in his love for her, but the doubt planted by the nobles was growing roots she couldn’t ignore.

---

In the Archives

Later that day, Leila returned to the archives, the quiet hum of the ancient room offering a semblance of peace. She pulled the book on portals from its place on the shelf, flipping through the pages with a sense of urgency. The diagrams and instructions were still difficult to decipher, but she was starting to piece together fragments of understanding.

As she studied, a strange sensation washed over her—a faint, tingling awareness that seemed to hum in the air around her. She paused, glancing up, her heart racing.

The sensation grew stronger, and for a moment, the edges of her vision seemed to blur. She blinked, and the room returned to normal, but the feeling lingered, like an echo of something just out of reach.

“What was that?” she whispered to herself, her fingers brushing over the pages of the book. The diagrams seemed to shift under her touch, and she realized with a jolt that they felt familiar—almost intuitive, as though a part of her already understood their meaning.

A soft knock on the door startled her, and she quickly closed the book, sliding it behind a stack of scrolls. “Come in.”

A servant entered, bowing deeply. “Miss Leila, the king requests your presence in the council chamber.”

Leila’s heart sank. The council chamber meant the nobles, and the nobles meant more whispers, more judgment. But she nodded, rising to her feet and smoothing her dress. “Thank you. I’ll be there shortly.”

---

At the Council Chamber

The air in the council chamber was heavy with tension as Leila stepped inside. The nobles were gathered around a long table, their expressions ranging from polite disinterest to barely concealed disdain. Lucian stood at the head of the table, his presence commanding and unyielding.

As she approached, his gaze softened slightly, but the tension in his posture didn’t ease. “Leila,” he said, motioning for her to stand beside him. “I called this meeting to address some concerns raised by the council.”

Concerns. The word sent a chill through her. She could feel the weight of their gazes, the judgment in their eyes.

One of the older nobles, a man with silver hair and a sharp gaze, cleared his throat. “Your Majesty, we only wish to discuss the matter of… stability. Cyrithiel has faced many challenges, and we must ensure that our leadership remains strong and united.”

Lucian’s jaw tightened. “My leadership is not in question.”

“Of course not,” the noble said quickly. “But there are… external factors that could weaken your position. Factors that could be addressed.”

His gaze flicked to Leila, and she felt the unspoken accusation like a physical blow.

Lucian’s voice was cold. “If anyone here questions my decisions or my choice of consort, they are free to leave this council. Permanently.”

The room fell silent, the weight of his words hanging in the air. But even as the nobles bowed their heads in submission, Leila felt the crack widening between her and this world. Lucian’s protectiveness was unyielding, but it came at a cost—a cost she wasn’t sure she could bear much longer.