Unspoken words.

Back inside the mansion.

Nila lay awake in her room, thoughts racing, the memory of Cyrus's steady presence beside her lingering. The way he had helped her search the garden, his soft encouragements, and his gentleness with the little bird stirred something deeper inside her. She was drawn to him in an inevitable way, like the way rivers find the sea. Yet, her heart raced with caution.

'Who exactly did this man think he was? Stirring up my heart!'

She hugged her pillow, hoping to drift off to sleep. But the softness of his "I love you" which Sol whispered once again before they retired to sleep kept ringing in her ears.

In his own bedroom, Cyrus was just as restless, staring at the ceiling, his thoughts entangled with memories of the garden. Nila's scent, her laughter, her gentle insistence on caring for that tiny creature, everything about her brought back a part of him he thought he had lost. 

But could he be the man she needed him to be, while still upholding his duties as a king? His mind looped over her shy smile, her guarded gaze, and the way her hand had felt against his. And even though he tried, sleep never came to him.

And the moonlight had to just make everything worse, the full moon made the werewolves particularly sensitive,

The next morning arrived, as Cyrus returned to the main palace his younger brother Darius was waiting with a broad grin, lounging casually in one of the meeting chambers as though he'd been waiting all night. Darius stood, hands spread in an exaggerated gesture of greeting.

"Cyrus! I hear you're back from some secret garden date and all that," he teased, his tone light. "Care to fill me in on your romantic endeavours?"

Cyrus smirked, rolling his eyes. "I have more important things to do than indulge your curiosity."

"Oh, come on, humour me! It's not every day that my infamously disciplined brother spends more than an hour alone with a woman," Darius laughed, a mischievous glint in his eye. "Don't think I didn't see that bash expression on your face. Are you going to admit she's stolen that iron heart of yours?"

"It's not like that," Cyrus replied, but the warmth creeping up his neck betrayed him. Darius noticed, of course, and leaned in, smirking with triumph.

"Don't bother denying it," Darius laughed, crossing his arms. "So? Did she fall hopelessly into your arms, or did you get punched in your face?"

Cyrus couldn't hide a slight grin. "Let's just say it's...complicated. Now, if we're done with your little interrogation, I have a council to attend."

Darius sighed dramatically, feigning a wounded look. "Fine, fine, go and be the stoic ruler again. But I expect updates, brother!"

The morning moved forward swiftly, and soon Cyrus was in the grand council chamber, draped in banners of dark red and silver, the weight of his role settling over him like an iron cloak. He straightened his posture, his gaze sharpening. This was the man the court knew, a ruler with a fierce and cold reputation, one who tolerated no weakness. With the gathered advisors, military generals, and diplomats, he reviewed matters from disputes within his kingdom to preparations for an impending war that threatened his borders.

Cyrus's tone was firm, and there was no room for doubt as he made decisions. A merchant accused of betraying trade agreements was dismissed from his court with nothing more than a hard glare from Cyrus. Another noble, guilty of exploiting his lands, received a reprimand that left him trembling, aware of how close he was to losing everything. His advisors observed the session with respect.

The court seemed more intense today, due to a piece of unexpected news. The news was grim, a rival kingdom had formed forces along the eastern borders. Cyrus absorbed the report, his expression unreadable as he swiftly issued orders, detailing strategies and demanding immediate action. His voice, sharp and unyielding, left no room for debate, and the generals left the chamber with newfound urgency.

Later that afternoon, Nila sat alone in the mansion's drawing room, contemplating the memory of last night's tenderness with a bittersweet ache. The day had weighed heavily on her, and she had struggled to shake the sense of longing she felt.

A knock at the door interrupted her thoughts, and a servant entered, presenting her with a letter sealed with the royal crest. Her heart clenched as she broke the seal, and she frowned at the beautiful calligraphy wondering who had such beautiful writing.

My dearest Nila,

I wish I could tell you this in person, but there is no time. War threatens our kingdom, and I must answer that call as king. I will be leaving for the frontlines in the morning. I want nothing more than to keep you safe and be here for you. But duty calls, and I cannot turn away.

Please know that my heart remains with you, even as I face whatever lies ahead. Yours, as always, in love, your husband

Sol.

Nila's hands shook as she read the words. War. He was going to war. A strange hollowness filled her, She knew Cyrus to be strong, resolute, the best leader a kingdom could hope for. And yet, she couldn't escape the sense of danger that a war would bring.

The evening passed in a blur, and as night fell, Nila once again found herself pacing the garden. Would he come to see her before he left? She wasn't sure what she wanted, what she would even say. But deep down, she felt a desperate need to see him.

As if drawn by her thoughts, Cyrus appeared at the edge of the garden. Their eyes met, and he slowly approached, his expression both weary and tender. He stopped before her, the weight of the world reflected in his gaze, yet softened by something else, a warmth that Nila had begun to recognize as love.

Without a word, she stepped forward, "I got your letter," she whispered, struggling to keep her voice steady.

Cyrus placed his hand over hers, pressing it gently. "I didn't want to leave without seeing you," he replied, his voice raw. "There's so much I want to say, but I don't know where to begin."

Nila looked up, her eyes searching his. "Then just stay," she whispered, knowing it was impossible, yet unable to stop herself from asking.

A pained smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. "If it were up to me, I would. But… this is my duty. My kingdom needs me. I promise I'll come back to you, Nila.''

''You better come back soon, I am not going to extend a month for you, you have to come back and pursue me!'' Nila spoke slightly huffing trying to lighten the mood.

At that moment, Cyrus's hand found its way to her cheek, his thumb brushing gently over her skin. It was a simple gesture, but it felt like the world had stopped. He leaned closer, his forehead resting against hers, their breaths mingling in the quiet. They stayed that way for a long moment, neither willing to break the fragile spell that bound them.

"Be safe, Sol."

As those words rolled out of Nila's tongue, Cyrus's heart raced, and he felt warmth radiating all over, 'this is getting dangerous', he thought to himself.

Finally, he pulled away, his gaze lingering on her face as if to memorize every detail. "Until I return, I love you," he said softly, his voice laced with a tenderness that made her heartache.

And with a final, lingering glance, he turned and disappeared into the night, leaving her alone in the garden, her heart full and aching all at once.

Nila wanted to say it back to him, that she loved him but couldn't bring herself to. It was just not 'I love you' that she wished to say, a thousand unspoken words remained stuck in her throat, Sol better come back safely because she had so much to confess.