“On that day, meet me here.”

Jovine shivered under the canopy of the starless night sky as the scent of green and withering flowers caressed her. Sitting on the cold marble fountain, she plucked at a lone yellow rose she had found discarded on the seat.

In the early months of their marriage, she would take frequent walks in the evenings with Richard in the Palace Gardens, the very place where he had discovered her secret chocolate escapade and where she had seen him smile for the first time.

“You were an endearing little rascal back then,” he had teased.

She had looked at him in feigned offense, failing to keep her smile at bay. “Rascal?”

“The way you smiled at me with chocolate slathered all over your mouth, talking about stars and other nonsense,” he had laughed.

Jovine chuckled at the image, remembering the panic she had felt back then. As they reminisced under the stars, walking hand-in-hand and smiling from ear to ear, she marveled at how far they had come.

“On the days when the burden gets to be too much, I often go back to that night,” Richard had softly admitted to her. “The innocence of it all. Finding that even the perfect Jovine Rainer was endearingly imperfect. It made me feel glad to find a partner in you. To know that I wasn’t alone in this.”

Jovine had stopped in her tracks, grasping his hand tightly. “You are never alone. Not if I have a say in it,” she assured him.

Richard gazed into her eyes, a look of peace settling over him. Pulling her close, he placed a soft kiss onto her lips, smiling when she leaned in for more.

“Let’s make a promise,” he had whispered against her.

Leaning back, he looked down at her with a warm smile. “Long into the future, on the day before we are to be crowned as the Emperor and Empress of Theolos, meet me here. As a reminder that our burdens can be shared. That we are not alone.”

Jovine grinned at him, her heart melting at his thoughtfulness.

“On that day, meet me here,” he pressed, hugging her closer.

“I promise,” she said, matching her mouth to his with enthusiasm.

But, he was the one that failed to keep it.

On the night before their premature coronation, Jovine went to the gardens, keeping to the promise she had made him long ago. In a way, this felt like her last line of hope.

Throughout the previous weeks, amidst the haste of planning the coronation soon after the Royal Funeral, Jovine had only exchanged tense dialogues with her callous husband. Through curt discussions regarding Imperial affairs and brief encounters during weekly Audiences, he had dismissed her abruptly every time, as if he struggled spending more time with her than he had to.

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When she brought up the question of Mallory, he would tense up, ordering her to retire. When she asked about the trembling he hadn’t felt, he passed over it as the effect of strong liquor. He was shutting her out, and Jovine didn’t know how to bring him back to her.

So, despite the divide he had placed between them, she brought it up to him that morning when he finally emerged from his office to find her waiting outside.

Before he could pass her, she blurted, “I’ll be in the gardens tonight. Just as we promised.”

Richard stopped, flicking her a glance as he looked down his nose at her with a small frown. After giving a short nod, he walked away.

Taking it as the first sign of hope in a long time, Jovine held onto it, looking forward to the night and the promise they had made to one another.

But, countless hours had passed as she waited for her husband to show. But he never did.

Jovine gripped the stem of the apetalous rose, relishing the pain of the thorns embedding within the skin of her palms. As she looked at the fallen petals being whisked away by the frigid gust, the harsh sting of tears came.

Biting her trembling lips, she stared ahead at her blurred surroundings. She was the one who would be alone in this. She would never leave him, but he could easily leave her. She knew this now.

Placing her bloodied hand over her mouth, she muffled her growing sobs. She was alone. Alone.

The sound of rustling in the bushes ahead snapped her head up. Looking up in anticipation, she searched for the source. Perhaps Richard was here.

But, after long moments of silence, her hope deflated as quickly as it came.

With one last look at the barren rose, she let it fly away into the wind and left with a heavy heart.

-------

On the first day of Winter, Richard and Jovine de Tristaine were crowned as the new monarchs of the Theolos Empire. As ashen as the somber sky, the people of the Empire couldn’t be as happy for their new sovereigns, still in mourning for the late Emperor and Empress who had just been freshly buried.

But, Richard boasted a look of pride as he looked down at the crowd of his people gathered in the Holy Church. As the High Priest placed the heavy crown of leaden gold and gems on his brow, power fizzed in his veins.

Jovine stared straight ahead, her swollen eyes focused into the distance as she felt the weight of the cold metal pressing into her skull. Everything felt too suffocating. The dense velvet cloak. The constricting force of her corset. The weight of her husband’s hand bound against her own in a red cloth of silk.

She felt chained to her fate.

A sudden flash of white caught her sight in the crowd, and when she looked its way, her eyes clashed with fiery amber ones.

The stranger. From that fateful night. The one with the silver hair and the heavy cloak.

He looked at her with an unexplainable intensity, and it caused an unwelcome feeling of danger. With his large frame and the elegance of his appearance overshadowed by the rugged lines of his face, the man dripped of power and wealth. Jovine ran through every name she had learned in her studies through the back of her mind, but she couldn’t place one for him.

Then, her eye caught on the golden emblem stitched into the breast of his dark suit. A Columbine Flower entwined in thorny vines.

She had seen that crest before in the history books. Who did it belong to?

Jovine pondered, curious to figure out —

The name flashed through her mind. The Vel Feyras Family.

Yes. This was the Grand Duke of Theolos. From Mallory.

Jovine’s eyes widened at the realization, and she could swear a spark of delight flared in the Grand Duke’s eyes.

Before she could react, however, a rough squeeze from Richard’s hand brought her attention to the High Priest, who looked at her in inquiry.

“Your Majesty?” he implored.

At the look of her confusion, he nodded in understanding and repeated his words. “Do you pledge to serve the Empire as its fair and loyal sovereign?”

Swallowing down her anxiety, she distantly heard herself say, “Yes.”

“Then by the grace of the Lord and the blessings of the Holy Reign, I declare Richard and Jovine de Tristaine as the Emperor and Empress of the Theolos Empire.”

Empress of the Theolos Empire.

If power was any indication of misery, Jovine de Tristaine was now walking down the road to tragedy.

God help me survive this, she prayed. Help me.

Help.