The words fell softly, yet heavily.
Valerie swallowed in silence.
Her eyes remained closed. Her face stayed calm. But inside her, sothing finally hardened completely. Not from anger. Not from sadness.
But from resolve.
She did not move as Demian continued to hold her. She did not pull away. Did not return the embrace. She let the night pass just like that without sound, without tears, without resistance.
Because in the end, her silence was no longer a sign of pain.
Her silence was the sign that she had stopped hoping.
Morning arrived without a sound.
Valerie opened her eyes slowly, still in the sa position as the night before. Morning light slipped through the curtains, falling softly across the bedroom floor. The air was warm and that scent imdiately reached her senses.
Demian’s scent.
Clean, sharp, familiar. Too familiar.
She turned her head slightly.
Demian was already ready. His hair neatly styled, his riding clothes fully on, a dark coat draped over his arm. He looked like soone about to leave and with no intention of delaying anything.
Valerie watched him in silence for a few seconds before finally asking, her voice rough from sleep,
"You’re leaving?"
Demian turned toward her. "Yes."
The answer was brief. Firm.
Then, as if it were the most natural thing in the world, he added,"And you’re coming with ."
Valerie frowned. Her brows knit together, her eyes narrowing slightly not in confusion, but in unpreparedness.
"Where are we going?" she asked.
"Hunting," Demian replied. "With the imperial family."
The words made Valerie freeze.
Hunting.
The imperial family.
Her heart beat faster not from excitent, but from the imdiate discomfort that rose within her. She pushed herself half upright, the blanket slipping from her shoulders.
"I don’t want to go," she said quietly, but clearly.
Demian stopped fastening his cuff and looked at her. "Why?"
"I don’t want to," Valerie repeated. "I don’t feel well. And I don’t want to appear at an event like that."
Demian let out a short breath. "There won’t be many people."
Valerie stared at him without blinking.
"Only the Crown Prince," Demian continued, "and Princess Elena. His younger sister."He added in a calming tone, as if that should be enough. "No one else."
But that was precisely what made Valerie stiffen even more.
"That’s exactly why," she said. "I don’t want to."
She shook her head faintly. "I don’t want to et anyone today."
Demian stepped closer. "Valerie."
That tone told her this was not a request.
"I’m not ready," she said, her voice trembling now. "I don’t want to—"
"You have to co," Demian cut in.
Valerie looked at him sharply. "Why?"
Demian did not answer right away. He stood tall, composed, like soone who had made his decision long before this conversation ever began.
"Because I said so," he replied at last."And because whatever happens, you’re still coming with ."
Silence fell between them.
Valerie felt sothing in her chest tighten again. She wanted to say so many things about last night, about what she had heard, about how fragile and exposed she felt now.
But all of it stopped in her throat.
She lowered her gaze.
"All right," she said finally, barely above a whisper.
Not because she agreed.
But because she knew her refusal had never truly been an option.
Demian gave a short nod, as if the decision were exactly as it should be. "We leave in an hour. Get ready."
He turned toward the door.
Valerie remained seated on the bed, watching his back as it moved away, while one quiet yet unmistakable thought ford in her mind:
Even my leaving... is not sothing I get to choose.
And that morning, before the sun had fully risen, Valerie knew today would not give her room to breathe.
After getting ready, Valerie went downstairs with steps that felt heavier than usual.
Her riding dress was perfectly fitted, her hair styled simply, her face composed too composed. She looked like soone prepared to fulfill an obligation, not soone who wanted to be there. Demian waited for her without comnt, as though her appearance already t his expectations.
The journey passed in silence.
The carriage rolled away from the castle, rattling over stone roads toward a tightly guarded territory. The farther they went, the denser the security beca. Imperial banners fluttered at every post, soldiers’ spears stood upright, their faces expressionless.
At last, the forest ca into view.
The Emperor’s forest.
Vast, ancient, and silent in an intimidating way. Towering trees with thick, dark trunks rose high, their dense foliage filtering the sunlight until only fragnts of light reached the ground. Not just anyone could enter this land only the imperial family, selected nobles, and those specially invited.
The mont Valerie’s boots touched the forest ground, her stomach tightened.
She felt... out of place.
The air was colder. Heavier. As if the forest itself were judging anyone who dared to step inside. Valerie drew a slow breath, trying to steady herself, but the urge to turn around and leave only grew stronger.
I shouldn’t have co, she thought.
She had taken only a few steps behind Demian when her eyes caught a figure she knew all too well.
Ivanka.
She stood not far from the gathering area, dressed in elegant yet practical hunting attire. Her hair was neatly arranged, her expression bright, as though the morning itself had been made for her. She was speaking with soone from the imperial family at ease, confident.
Valerie’s heart pounded.
Her steps slowed, nearly stopping. Her first instinct was to retreat. To run. To disappear before anyone noticed her. Her chest tightened, and for a brief mont she truly considered turning back.
But Demian had already seen her.
And before Valerie could do anything, Demian stepped forward.
"Ivanka," he called out.
Too loudly.
The greeting rang clearly through the open air, with no attempt to soften it, no regard for who was standing right beside him.
Ivanka turned.
Her face imdiately lit up. "Demian."
She walked toward him, her smile warm, her eyes shining. "I didn’t expect you to arrive so early."
Demian gave a faint smile. "I didn’t want to be late."
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