I found Seraphina in the garden, standing amidst the vibrant blooms and sunlight filtering through the leaves, a stark contrast to the tension clinging to the air. Elara stood a short distance away, arms crossed, eyes sharp as ever, and projecting her usual air of unspoken hostility. She didn’t bother hiding her glare as I approached; for once, I didn’t blame her.

Seraphina, however, greeted me with a faint smile, though I caught a flicker of something more guarded in her gaze.

"Baron Alexander," she said, a formality that felt heavy on her lips.

"Lady Seraphina," I replied, offering a strained smile. My head throbbed in time with my heartbeat. The Nexus integration was wreaking havoc on my senses. Each step now felt like a battle to stay upright.

Her eyes narrowed slightly at the way I addressed her. "It’s Sera," she corrected, her voice sharp, betraying her irritation. "If we are to be partners in this… arrangement, then you can at least call me by my name."

Caught off guard, I blinked. "Sera," I corrected myself, the name feeling almost intimate, strange on my tongue, but for some reason, it also felt oddly right.

Elara made a disapproving noise from the sidelines, stepping forward, but Seraphina held up a hand before she could speak. “Elara, please,” she said with a tired edge in her voice. “Let me handle this. I get that you want to protect me all the time. But I need you to trust that I can make my own decisions.”

Elara's mouth tightened, but she stepped back, crossing her arms and glaring at me as if I had personally offended her entire lineage.

It was clear she wasn’t going to make this easy, not that I had expected otherwise, but I had never known a personal assistant to be so confrontational. Maybe it was because she shared the same name as my mother… maybe all people with Elara as the name were difficult. It was my best guess, anyway.

Seraphina’s gaze softened as she turned her attention back to me. She noticed the way I grimaced, the way my hand instinctively went to my temple to rub away the ever-present pain. “You’re not well,” she said softly, stepping closer, concern flickering in her eyes. “You shouldn’t be up. The procedure…”

“I’m fine,” I cut her off, though the words came out more laboured than I’d intended. “Just... adjusting.”

My vision blurred for a moment, the garden spinning before snapping back into focus as I blinked rapidly. The edges of my world were hazy as if I were seeing it all through heat waves.

She didn’t buy it for a second. “You’re pushing yourself too hard.” Seraphina’s hand brushed my arm, and everything settled again, the sound of her voice grounding me in the moment. There was something in her voice. Her touch. Gentle yet grounding. It made it difficult to keep pretending. “Sit. Please.”

Without waiting for a response, she guided me to a bench beneath one of the large, ancient trees that shaded the garden. The cool stone felt like a relief against the heat building inside me, and I sank into it with a heavy sigh. Sera sat beside me, her eyes scanning my face, clearly assessing my state.

“I don’t know how you can keep going like this,” she said, her voice softer now. “You’re in pain.”

“Pain’s part of the job,” I said, trying to sound nonchalant, though the pounding in my head begged to differ.

She shook her head, a frustrated sigh escaping her lips. “You don’t always have to be strong, Alex. Not with me. I promise you can always turn to me.”

Her words struck a chord I hadn’t expected. I had been carrying the weight of duty for so long that letting someone else in. Letting her in felt foreign and uncomfortable. But as I looked at her, I saw something I hadn’t seen before. She wasn’t just doing this out of obligation. There was something deeper, a willingness to share this burden.

Sera hesitated for a moment as if weighing her next words carefully. “I know this wasn’t what you wanted,” she began slowly. “And it wasn’t what I wanted either. But I’m... I’m glad it was you.”

I blinked, and my heart skipped a beat. “Glad?” What was she trying to say? I couldn't focus on anything because of the pounding my headache gave me. Intimacy always made me feel uncomfortable. It was much easier to keep everyone at arm’s length. Less painful in the long run.

Sera’s gaze dropped to the ground, her fingers nervously tracing the lines of her dress. “When my parents told me I was to be married into the Draven family, I thought...” She trailed off, swallowing hard as if the words were too difficult to form. “I thought it would be Cedric. And I was terrified.”

At the mention of Cedric, her hands trembled slightly, and I didn’t need her to say more to understand the fear behind those words. I forced myself to stay still. It wouldn’t do Sera any good to see me rage simply because of a name. Even if it was him. Cedric Draven was notorious. A name that evoked dread for anyone who knew of his cruel tendencies. The idea that she had thought she would be bound to him... It made my stomach twist. He would never have treated her right.

“But then they told me it was you,” she continued, her voice soft but steady. “And I felt... relief. Conflicted, but relieved.”

“Relieved?” I asked doubt in my voice. “I’m not exactly anyone’s idea of a perfect match.”

She smiled faintly, a flicker of amusement dancing in her eyes. “Maybe not. But you’re not him. You seem to be someone much better. More real. More understanding.”

There was a weight behind those words, a silent gratitude that left me momentarily speechless. I hadn’t thought about what this marriage meant for her, the kind of terror she might have felt before she learned my name instead of Cedric’s. It was a reminder of the burdens we both carried, different but heavy all the same.

This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

Sera took a deep breath, steadying herself before continuing. “I’m trying to do what’s right, Alex. What my parents asked of me. I’ve been raised to believe in duty, in family, in doing what’s necessary even if it means sacrificing personal happiness.” Her voice faltered for a moment, then grew stronger. “But with you... Maybe… Maybe it doesn’t have to be just duty.”

Something in her words struck deep, and for a moment, I wasn’t sure how to respond. This woman, who had been thrust into a future she hadn’t chosen, was standing here telling me she was willing to try. Willing to make this work not just for the sake of duty but for us.

“I didn’t ask for this either,” I admitted, the truth spilling out before I could stop it. I always struggled to open up. But for some reason, Sera was just easier to talk to. “But you, Sera... you make it easier.”

Her eyes softened, and for a brief moment, the weight of everything: our families, the future, the looming responsibilities. It all faded, leaving just the two of us in the garden, sitting side by side, connected by something more than just an arrangement.

Elara, of course, chose that moment to step forward, her protective instincts kicking back in. “Lady Seraphina, perhaps we should return inside. The baron needs rest.”

Sera shot her a look, one that was full of quiet authority. “Elara, I said I’ll handle it.”

Elara blinked, clearly taken aback by the sharpness in Sera’s tone, but she didn’t argue. With a stiff nod, she stepped back, though I could still feel the tension rolling off her in waves.

Sera turned back to me, Giving me a small apologetic smile before her expression softened once more. “We’re in this together, Alex. You don’t have to carry it all by yourself.”

I managed a smile, a real one this time. “I… I… Um…” Let out a breath before finally getting out what I wanted to say. “Thank you... Sera.”

The name felt intimate and familiar right now, just like how she looked at me. For so long, I had believed that carrying the weight of duty meant bearing it alone. But now, as Sera sat beside me, offering her hand and her trust, something in that belief began to crack. Perhaps it didn’t always have to be this way.

For the first time in a long while, I felt something other than the crushing weight of duty.

I felt hope.

***

“I need that bandage, now!” Lyra shouted over the deafening sounds of battle, her hands pressed firmly against the man’s abdomen, trying to stem the flow of blood. The wound was deep—too deep. She could feel the warmth of his life slipping through her fingers as she struggled to stay focused. Another explosion rocked the ground, nearly knocking her off balance, but she gritted her teeth and held on.

‘Not now.’ She cursed to herself. ‘Not another one.’

The bandage was thrust into her hand, and she immediately started wrapping the gaping wound. Blood soaked through the fabric before she even tied it off. She knew it wasn’t enough. They were too far from a medical centre; all she had was this basic med kit. It felt useless, like trying to put out a wildfire with a cup of water.

The man coughed violently, spitting blood, and tried to sit up. “Stay still, damn it!” she barked, pushing him back down with more force than she intended. He needed to stop moving. Why couldn’t they ever stop fighting her?

“I’m trying to save you,” she muttered under her breath, though part of her doubted whether she could. His pulse was weak beneath her fingertips, fading with every passing second. She tightened the bandage and hoped it would hold, even if she knew it wouldn’t.

The man grunted, his muscles tensing beneath her grip. He shoved her hands away, surprising her with a sudden surge of strength. Lyra fell back, landing hard on the cracked dirt. “Get off me!” he growled, staggering to his feet despite the blood still dripping from the wound she’d barely managed to wrap.

“Dammit,” she hissed, pushing herself up from the ground. “What’s wrong with you people?” Anger flared in her chest, hotter than the fires around them. “I’m trying to help! Why are you so intent on dying?”

The man swayed on his feet, each movement a struggle, yet he refused to stay down. He looked back at her, his face pale and sweat-soaked, but there was a fire in his eyes. “Thanks, doc,” he rasped, his voice rough and weak. “But you shouldn’t waste your supplies on me.”

Waste? The word echoed in her mind, stinging more than the dust in her eyes. She watched in disbelief as he stumbled away, clutching his stomach like he had someplace better to die.

Lyra’s thought struggled to process the scene before her. ‘Is this what war does to people? Turns them into walking corpses who don’t even care if they live or die?’

She let out a breath. “Why are you people so set on killing each other?” she muttered to herself, though she knew the answer. She had seen it too many times. Pride, revenge, desperation. There were always reasons, and none of them were good enough.

Her hands shook as she wiped the blood off on her trousers, but no matter how hard she scrubbed, the stain remained. It was everywhere. On her skin, under her nails, on her clothes. And it wasn’t just blood. It was a failure.

She grabbed her medical pack and swung it over her shoulder. The weight of it felt heavier now, filled more with the lives she couldn’t save than the tools inside. She glanced over at the person who was supposed to be guiding her to the medical centre. A kid, really. Far too young for this.

“Where are we going?” Lyra demanded, trying to shake off her frustration. “Where’s the damned centre?”

The kid flinched, their small voice trembling as they responded. “S...S-sorry. This way.”

Lyra blinked, surprised by how scared they sounded. Something felt wrong. “Wait.” She stepped closer, reaching out to tug at the makeshift headwrap they wore. “How old are you?”

The figure recoiled, backing away quickly. “Don’t!” Their voice cracked with fear. “Please, don’t... don’t send me back. I need this. I have to feed my family.”

Lyra froze, her outstretched hand falling to her side. A child. Of course, they were using children. That’s how desperate it had become. She swallowed the lump in her throat, forcing herself to stay calm. “I’m not going to send you back. I just… I need you to show me the way. That’s all.”

The kid’s eyes, wide with fear, darted between her and the surrounding chaos. For a moment, she thought they might run, but instead, they nodded—a small, hesitant movement. Lyra let out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. ‘These kids shouldn’t be here. None of us should. But this is the world now, isn’t it? Drakara’s sun always sets early, and so does everyone’s damn future.’

She cast a glance at the darkening sky. Its dusky light filtered through the smoke rising from distant explosions. Time was running out. For everyone. ‘If we don’t get to the med centre soon…’

“Let’s go,” she said, her voice softer now. She gestured for the kid to lead, trying to hide her own rising anxiety. The pain of the injured, the weight of the war—they were all piling on her, pushing her down with every passing second. And still, she moved forward because stopping wasn’t an option.

The kid began to move, and Lyra hurried after them. Her mind raced with calculations—how long until the next blast, how many wounded could she still reach, how far they were from safety.

But no matter how much she tried to focus, one question kept bubbling to the surface. ‘What’s the point of saving lives if they’re just going to throw them away?’

Her jaw clenched as the bitter and cold thought settled in her mind. But it didn’t stop her. It never did. She wasn’t here to understand why they fought. She was here to save whoever she could. Even if it felt like a losing battle.

As the sound of distant gunfire echoed through the evening air, Lyra gripped her med kit tighter and followed her young guide into the growing shadows, hoping against hope that it wouldn’t be too late.