I took a step forward, making sure my movement didn’t come off as threatening.

"I don’t think it’s going to be easy for you to accept me," I said, my voice calm, measured, but not distant. "But... you don’t have to. At least, not right now."

The words hung in the air for a moment, not heavy, but not light either. Just enough to be felt.

Then I lowered myself, bending my knees until I was right in front of him. I knelt without hesitation, without any second thoughts creeping in. My hands moved on their own, and before I even paused to think about it, I cupped his head gently with both of my palms.

The reaction around me was immediate.

A few gasps slipped through the crowd. Some of them stiffened, others just stared, their eyes widening as if they were watching something that shouldn’t even be possible.

For them, it must have looked absurd.

Royalty kneeling.

Royalty touching a commoner.

Royalty closing the distance that was supposed to exist between them like it meant nothing.

And yet, here I was, doing exactly that, right in front of them.

"It’s okay if you don’t trust me," I continued, keeping my gaze steady on him. "Honestly, I don’t think I’m someone who can be easily trusted either. But if you give me a chance, I’ll make sure to do this right."

I didn’t rush the words. I let them come out naturally, the way they should.

For a second, nothing happened.

His hands were still gripping at me, almost like he was afraid that if he let go, something worse would happen. His fingers trembled slightly, not strong enough to hold on properly, but not willing to release either.

Then, slowly, that tension faded.

His hands dropped to his sides.

Just like that.

And then he started crying.

It wasn’t loud at first. It wasn’t dramatic either. It was quiet, almost like he was trying to hold it back and failing at the same time. The kind of crying that came from somewhere deep, something that had been sitting there for too long without an outlet.

There had to be a reason for it.

There had to be a moment in his life where he needed help, where he reached out and expected someone to answer, only to be met with nothing. Or worse, to be ignored.

It probably involved his family.

That kind of pain didn’t just appear out of nowhere.

Even if the nobles were the ones responsible for whatever happened to him, it still circled back to the king. That was just how things worked. The king ruled over them, held authority over them, and everything they did reflected back on him, whether it was fair or not.

That responsibility didn’t disappear just because it was inconvenient.

That was why people hated my father.

Even when he wasn’t directly involved, even when the damage was clearly caused by the nobles themselves, the blame still found its way to him. It piled up, stacked on his shoulders, heavier than it should have been.

The nobility, as a whole, was the source of so many problems, yet somehow, he ended up being the face of all of it.

Unfair didn’t even begin to describe it.

Still, he was at the top.

And when you stood at the top, everything came back to you, whether you wanted it to or not.

As I looked around, I noticed something subtle.

The expressions in their eyes were changing.

Doubt was still there, lingering, but it wasn’t the only thing anymore. There was something else mixing into it. Something that hadn’t been there before.

It wasn’t trust.

Not yet.

But it wasn’t rejection either.

***

After everything settled down, after the prisoners were freed and the conversations finally came to an end, I stepped outside.

The air hit me immediately.

It was fresh and cold.

It felt different compared to the dungeon. Down there, the air had been thick, stale, almost suffocating. It clung to your lungs, made every breath feel heavier than it should. Being there for too long didn’t just affect your body, it got into your head too.

Out here, it felt like I could finally breathe again.

Like something had loosened around my chest.

As I walked forward, I spotted her.

My mother was already waiting.

She stood there quietly, as if she had been there for a while, just watching, just waiting for me to come out. There was something in her expression that didn’t need words to explain.

I had already told her not to meet Julius.

There was no reason for her to face him. It would only make things harder. Even though she had convinced herself that killing Julius was necessary for the kingdom, I could tell that acceptance hadn’t fully settled in.

It wasn’t something you could just agree to and move on from.

It felt more like she was forcing herself to accept it.

Pushing herself toward a decision she knew had to be made, even if every part of her resisted it.

As a mother, her feelings were complicated.

I couldn’t fully understand them.

That much was obvious.

I didn’t have a child with Leon yet, so I couldn’t say I knew exactly what she was going through. Still, imagining it was enough. If it were my own child standing in that position, I knew I wouldn’t be able to handle it any better.

Probably worse, if I was being honest.

"Mother," I said softly as I approached her.

I didn’t hesitate this time either.

I wrapped my arms around her, pulling her into a gentle embrace.

She felt lighter than I expected.

Or maybe it was just the weight she was carrying that made it seem that way.

It would be better if she didn’t have to deal with any of this.

She had already done enough.

The last thing she needed was to carry something like this on top of everything else.

***

Leon’s POV

The day had finally come.

Myrcella’s coronation, I mean.

The air felt different, even from early morning. There was a kind of tension mixed with excitement, the kind that made everything feel just a little more alive than usual.

People had gathered in numbers that were hard to ignore.

Crowds filled the area, voices overlapping, and blending into a constant hum that never really settled. Some of them looked excited, others curious, and a few were just there to witness history unfold.

Because that’s what this was.

History.

This would be the first time a woman would be instated as king, not as a temporary replacement, not as someone holding the position until a rightful heir came of age, but as the actual ruler from the start.

That alone made it something people couldn’t look away from.

Milham had seen its fair share of events, but this one stood out.

You could feel it.

People weren’t just watching.

They were waiting.

Of course, with something this big, there were risks.

Assassination wasn’t some distant possibility you could just ignore.

Security had been tightened to the point where even small movements didn’t go unnoticed.

Even with all the support Myrcella had, there were still people who didn’t agree with her becoming king. Some were quiet about it, others weren’t.

Hostility didn’t disappear just because something historic was happening. 𝙛𝒓𝓮𝒆𝔀𝒆𝙗𝓷𝒐𝙫𝒆𝙡.𝒄𝓸𝓶

It just hid better.

Well, that sucks for them, I guess.