Under the Oak Tree - Riftan's POV - Multiverse

Chapter 41: Run Away with me

The garden lay cloaked in frost, the pale breath of Paxias in every branch. Riftan paced the stone path like a caged beast, each passing second grinding against his nerves. He knew she would come. She always came.

At last, the sound of hurried steps, and Maximilian appeared through the archway. Her eyes were already swollen red, her cheeks wet. She stumbled forward, and before Riftan could speak, she threw herself into his arms, clinging to him as if she might break apart.

"M-My f-f-father—" her voice cracked, muffled against his chest, "he f-forbade me... he forbade m-me to see y-you."

Riftan's arms tightened around her trembling frame, his heart plunging. He pressed his face into her hair, into the copper curls that had haunted him through every campaign, every night. "Maxi..." His voice was hoarse, breaking.

Her tears seeped through his tunic. The sound of her sobs hollowed him out. A single thought slammed into his mind, savage and relentless: If I take her now, if I make her mine this instant, no one—not even that bastard—can tear her away.

The law of Wedon rose bitterly in his memory. Without the Duke's consent, the marriage could never be recognized. He would brand her ruined, and Riftan powerless. Unless—unless he stole her away. To another kingdom. Anywhere beyond Croix's reach. He would burn every bridge if it meant she was his.

He tilted her face upward, his thumb trembling against her cheek. And then, unable to hold back, he kissed her. Not the fleeting, restrained touch he had forced himself into before—but fierce, desperate, consuming. She gasped against him, then yielded, her arms winding around his neck.

Something snapped. He pressed her back against the cold stone wall, his mouth trailing down her throat, tasting the salt of her tears and the fragile warmth of her skin. She arched helplessly, and the world narrowed to her ragged breath, her trembling hands, her body soft beneath his. They sank together onto the frosted earth, and his hands slid beneath the folds of her dress, aching to claim what had been denied him. For the first time, Riftan no longer cared for honor, or patience, or the careful walls he had built. She's mine. Mine.

But then her voice—small, strained, breaking—reached him.

"Riftan... s-stop."

He froze, his breath burning against her neck. She looked at him through a blur of tears, fear not of him but of the cage closing around them.

"Run away with me," he rasped, his voice a plea, a command. "We can go, Maxi. To another kingdom. He'll never touch you again. You'll be mine. We'll be free."

She shook her head, sobbing, clutching at his tunic as if to steady herself. "He w-will hunt us. Until t-the end o-of the w-world—until forever. He will n-never stop."

"I don't care!" Riftan growled, nearly wild. "I'll kill anyone who comes after us. I'll fight the whole damn world if I have to."

Her hands cupped his face, desperate, trembling. "I-I won't make y-you live like that. I won't m-make Anatol live l-like that. You're worth m-more than running and h-hiding like criminals."

"You're worth everything," he choked out. "I've built everything for you—Anatol, the castle, the land. All of it. For you."

Her tears spilled harder. "And y-you'd throw it a-a-way for me? He will k-kill us both, R-Riftan."

"I don't care. Say yes. Just say yes and I'll take you now." His lips crushed against hers again, frantic, begging. His hands trembled as they clung to her.

"Stop!" she cried suddenly, pushing against his chest.

He stilled, staring at her, his own tears burning his eyes.

"What do you want me to do? Do you want me to give up, Maxi?" His voice was ragged, nearly a sob. "Tell me what I have to do. I'll do it. Just don't let go of me."

Her face crumpled. "G-Give me t-time."

Riftan's breath came in broken gasps. He wanted to roar, to tear down every wall until nothing could stand between them. "Time?" His voice cracked. "While he promises you to Kuehl? While he parades you before every noble who will take you?"

She bit her lip, shaking her head, unable to answer.

"Come with me," he begged again, his voice shattering. "Please, Maximilian. Please."

Her tears fell faster, but her head shook, her voice breaking on a single word: "No."

The world caved in. He stared at her, disbelieving, then staggered to his feet. Without another word, he turned on his heel.

"R-Riftan—!" she whispered, reaching for him. But he did not look back.

He ran. Out of the garden, through the gates, to the stables. He threw himself onto his horse and spurred it hard, fleeing into the night.

By the next day, Anatol's familiar walls rose around him, but they brought no comfort. Pride, fury, and heartbreak twisted inside him until he could hardly breathe. He locked himself in his study for a whole day, and it was until the next day his hands were still shaking as he reached for parchment.

Maximilian, he scrawled, ink blotting beneath his tears, I swear to you—I will wait. I will find a way. No matter how long it takes, you are mine, and I am yours. Remember that. I love you.

For the first time, Riftan had written the words he had never dared speak aloud—I love you. The cowardice of it sickened him. He had never managed to tell her to her face, never once letting her hear the truth from his lips. And now, the confession was reduced to ink on a scrap of paper.

He sealed the letter, gave it to a rider bound for Croix, then sank heavily into his chair.

Beyond the window, snow began to fall again, soft and unrelenting.

Writer Note:

Thank you for reading! The next episode I wrote it about 3 years ago. I will post it before the end of the week.

Thank you for reading!