The grand halls of the Solaris Mansion were never truly silent, but tonight, the usual hum of servants and crackling hearth fires felt muffled, as if the very air had thickened with dread. Sunshine Solaris stood rigid, her golden flame eyes wide, the teacup in her hand frozen halfway to her lips. The parchment her mother had just placed on the lacquered table between them might as well have been a death warrant.

Helia, who had been Prince Art’s childhood friend and lover, clenched her fists, her voice trembling. "I can’t believe this... How could they do this without even consulting him? Without even considering how he feels?"

Lady Arabella sighed, her expression sympathetic but resigned. "I’m sorry, my dears. This was decided by the king and queen, along with Lyandra and Amon. They believe that a union between the Sovereign Sword and the crown prince will strengthen the kingdom’s stability and power."

Sunshine’s fists tightened, her golden flame eyes flickering with anger. "But what about Helia? What about Eclipse? They can’t just force them into a marriage for political reasons! This isn’t right!"

"Enough, Soleil." The use of her birth name struck Sunshine silent. Her mother never used it unless the matter was grave.

Arabella placed a gentle hand on Sunshine’s shoulder. "I know it’s hard to accept, but sometimes duty comes before personal feelings. This is the burden of those who hold power and responsibility."

Helia stood abruptly, her chair scraping against the marble floor. "May I be excused, Mother?" Her voice was barely audible as she fled the room, one hand pressed to her mouth.

The Solaris family gardens were famous for their night-blooming flowers, a tribute to their ancestral ties to the dawn and dusk. It was here, beneath an arch of cerulean moonflowers, that Art had once tucked a blossom behind Helia’s ear and promised, "When I’m king, I’ll plant these on every balcony of the palace, so you’ll never miss them."

Now, Helia pressed her forehead to those very petals, her breath coming in shallow bursts. The flowers glowed faintly in the dark, their luminescence catching on the tears streaking her cheeks.

Sunshine found her there, still in her formal gown, the embroidered suns on her sleeves crumpled from how tightly she’d crossed her arms. Without a word, she pulled Helia into an embrace, her own tears hot against her sister’s hair.

"We’ll fix this," Sunshine swore. "I’ll go to Eclipse myself. I’ll—"

Helia’s laugh was a broken thing. "Oh, little sun. You’d storm the palace for me?" She cupped Sunshine’s face, thumbs brushing away her tears. "Art and I… we always knew this day might come."

Sunshine shook her head. "But he loves you. Everyone knows it!"

"And what does love matter," Helia murmured, "when weighed against the stability of a kingdom?"

Around them, the moonflowers swayed, their glow dimming as clouds swallowed the moon.

Meanwhile, in the Lunastra Mansion, the atmosphere was equally tense. Eclipse had risen from her chair, her Lunar eyes glowing with intensity as she stared at her mother. "What did you say, Mother?" she asked, her voice low and filled with a mix of anger and betrayal. "You agreed to this?" Her lunar eyes glowed with barely restrained fury. "Without even consulting me?"

Lyandra, unfazed by her daughter’s reaction, replied coldly, "What’s so unclear about what I said? You are to be engaged to Prince Art and married to him before the year ends."

Eclipse’s hands trembled, her usually calm demeanor shattered. "You didn’t even ask me! You didn’t consider how I feel about this! How could you make such a decision without consulting me!?"

Lyandra remained impassive. "The documents are already signed."

Amon, ever the mediator, stepped in, his voice calm but firm. "Now, now, Lyandra, Eclipse, calm down. This was agreed upon by the king himself after your mother proposed it. The Sovereign Sword marrying the crown prince will strengthen the kingdom. It’s for the greater good."

Eclipse turned to her father, her eyes pleading. "Father, you can’t seriously agree with this! This isn’t just about politics—it’s about my life! My future!"

Amon sighed, his expression conflicted. "Eclipse, I understand how you feel, but as a member of the Great House of Lunastra, we have responsibilities that go beyond our personal desires. This decision wasn’t made lightly."

Lancelot, who had been quietly observing the exchange, finally spoke up. His voice was calm but carried a weight of authority. "Lyandra, Amon, while I understand the reasoning behind this decision, you can’t ignore Eclipse’s feelings. She’s not just a symbol of power—she’s your daughter. Forcing her into a marriage she doesn’t want will only lead to resentment."

Lyandra’s eyes narrowed, her tone sharp. "Father, with all due respect, this is not your decision to make. Eclipse is the Sovereign Sword, and her duty to the kingdom comes first."

Eclipse’s fists clenched, her voice trembling with emotion. "And what about my duty to myself? To my own happiness? Am I just a tool to be used for the kingdom’s benefit?"

The room fell silent, the weight of Eclipse’s words hanging heavily in the air. Lancelot looked at his granddaughter with a mixture of pride and sadness. He had always admired her strength and determination, but he also knew the burden she carried as the Sovereign Sword.

Back in the Solaris Mansion, Sunshine paced the room, her mind racing. "This isn’t right," she muttered. "We can’t just sit back and let this happen. Helia, we have to do something."

Helia looked up, her eyes filled with a mix of hope and despair. "What can we do? The king and queen have already decided. Even if Art and I love each other, it won’t change anything."

Sunshine’s golden flame eyes burned with determination. "We’ll find a way. I’ll talk to Eclipse. Maybe together, we can figure something out."

"Take me to Art, Soliel..." Helia said with tears, Sunshine nod gently and embraced her, with a quick step the two vanished.

Lady Arabella watched her daughters with a sad smile. She knew the road ahead would be difficult, but she also knew that Sunshine’s fiery determination and Helia’s gentle strength could move mountains. "Whatever you decide to do, know that I support you," she said softly.

As the night deepened, the two households were left grappling with the weight of the royal decree. For Eclipse and Helia, their futures hung in the balance, caught between duty and desire. And for Sunshine, the challenge ahead was clear—to fight for what was right, even if it meant going against the very kingdom she had sworn to protect.

Prince Artemion vi Pendragon stood frozen at his balcony, the cold night air biting through his formal robes. His gaze remained fixed on the distant silhouette of the Solaris mansion, where a single light still burned in Helia’s chambers. "She was waiting for me." The thought cut deeper than any blade.

He and Helia had planned it for weeks—a quiet dinner with his parents, a formal request for courtship. The daughter of House Solaris, equal in standing to the Lunastra, was more than a suitable match. They had laughed about it, giddy with the certainty of their future. "Father will be relieved," Art had joked, "knowing he won’t have to suffer through another political matchmaking." And then, like a storm breaking without warning, the engagement to Eclipse was announced.

His fingers tightened around the balcony railing until the ornate metal groaned in protest.

"Why didn’t I speak sooner?"

The moment replayed in his mind—the way his parents' faces had lit up with rare joy as Lyandra presented the betrothal documents. The way the entire court had erupted in approval, already whispering of the unstoppable dynasty their union would create. The way his voice had died in his throat, trapped beneath the weight of their happiness. "Coward."

A knock sounded at his door. "Your Highness," his attendant murmured, "the council insists—"

"I said leave." The door shut hastily.

Art exhaled, his breath curling into the night. On his desk, the moonflower—plucked at dawn as he did every week for Helia—lay untouched. Its petals were beginning to wilt. He had known, theoretically, that duty could demand this of him. But he had never truly believed it would. Not when Helia’s smile felt like sunlight. Not when her laughter had been the anchor that kept him sane through years of courtly games. Now, the weight of his silence crushed him. "I should have told them. I should have fought."

But the contracts were signed. The alliances were set.

And somewhere in the Solaris gardens, the woman he loved was breaking, because he had been too hesitant to claim her before the world could tear them apart.

The wind carried the distant chime of the palace clock—midnight. Art didn’t move.

A rustle of fabric. A familiar flower scent.

"You look like you’re contemplating jumping," came Helia’s voice, soft and raw.

His heart lurched. She stood framed in his balcony doorway, No tears. No anger. Just exhaustion.

"You shouldn’t be here." he whispered.

Helia stepped forward, her fingers brushing the wilted moonflower. "I had to see you." The words unraveled him.

"I was going to tell them tonight!" he choked out. "I had the speech prepared, the documents—"

"I know." Her hand found his, icy against his fevered skin. "But you saw their faces. The entire court was relieved. After years of instability, finally—a perfect union." A hollow laugh. "Who were we to disrupt that?"

Art turned to her, cradling her face. "We could still—"

"Don’t." Her fingers pressed against his lips. "Don’t make promises we can’t keep." For a heartbeat, they stood frozen, foreheads pressed together, sharing the same shuddering breath.

Then Helia stepped back, her Solaris gown gently sway. "You’ll be a good king. And Eclipse..." She swallowed. "Eclipse will be a magnificent queen."

The unspoken words hung between them: 'But you were supposed to be mine.'

As she turned to leave, Art caught her wrist. "Wait—"

Helia didn’t look back. "Goodbye, Artemion."

The door clicked shut.

Alone again, the prince sank to his knees, the moonflower crumbling in his fist.