Under the Oak Tree - Riftan's POV - Multiverse

Chapter 45: Chains

The tournament ended with trumpets and cheers, but Maximilian felt none of it. Her lips still tingled with the memory of the kiss Kuehl had claimed before the crowd, the roaring approval of the nobles still echoing in her ears. Her father's smirk of satisfaction had been the cruelest cut of all.

She walked with measured steps, every motion heavy as if weighed down by chains. The tents of the noble delegations flapped in the evening breeze, banners snapping overhead. Kuehl walked beside her, tall and proud, his shining hair catching the torchlight.

"You did well today," he said easily, as though they were old friends strolling through gardens. "Your presence before the court gave me strength."

Maximilian fiddled with her sleeve, her nerves coiled tight. To steady herself, she slipped a small mana stone from her pocket, letting its faint warmth calm her trembling hands.

Kuehl's eyes immediately caught the glimmer of the stone. His smile faltered, and he tilted his head with cool curiosity.

"A mana stone?" His voice carried a trace of disapproval, though polished with courtesy. "I had heard whispers that you dabbled in lessons... Tell me, is it true?"

Maxi hesitated, shame prickling at her cheeks. At last, she nodded. "Y-yes."

Kuehl's expression softened, though not in approval—it was the kind of patience one might use with a child. "Healing magic," he said with deliberate weight, "is a divine gift, blessed by the god himself. But the other branches... channeling, conjuring—such things are dangerous, misguided. It is no wonder the church forbids them."

Maxi's lips parted, a protest rising in her throat, but no words found their way out.

He pressed on smoothly, as though the matter were already decided. "When you come to Osiriya, you may continue your studies in healing under proper supervision, within the holy order's guidance. That would be both safe... and respectable."

Her heart sank, but she kept her head lowered, the mana stone burning in her palm.

Kuehl reached for her hand, giving it a firm squeeze. "Do not trouble yourself. I will speak with your father soon. It is time your courtship is made official. The Great Statuary of Osiriya is prepared to receive you—you will find your place there beside me."

His words were spoken like a promise, gilded and unshakable, but to Maxi they felt more like a verdict being sealed

Maximilian stopped walking, staring up at him in mute disbelief. He spoke as if her future were already written, as if her voice had no part in it. Her heart twisted painfully. Riftan had always listened—every stammer, every faltering attempt to explain her thoughts, he had leaned in with quiet patience, as though each word mattered. With Kuehl, there was no room for her voice at all.

Her silence stretched between them. Kuehl mistook it for shyness. He smiled, possessive, his green eyes glinting. Then his gaze flicked ahead, narrowing as a group of armored knights strode past—the black surcoats and dragon crest unmistakable. The Remdragon Knights. Riftan's men. Sadly, Maximillian did not notice them.

Kuehl's words rang in her ears like iron bars closing around her. Her chest tightened until she could hardly breathe. The tiny flame of hope she had kept alive—the thought that Riftan might still find a way—flickered and died. Maybe this was her fate. Maybe fighting it only deepened her misery.

It's time to accept it, she told herself bitterly. You'll never be free. At least he wants you. Her lips trembled as Kuehl's hand tilted her chin upward. His green eyes gleamed with satisfaction, and before she could gather another thought, his mouth pressed firmly against hers.