Chapter 174: Her Love Beyond Anything
His gaze didn’t waver. It deepened, consuming, as if searching for an answer buried deep within her.
Lorraine blinked...once, twice... her eyes clouded with shock, bewilderment, and a fragile, growing joy. She looked as though her entire world had toppled, rearranged itself in that single revelation.
Leroy chuckled, low and warm, a sound laced with bittersweet amusement, as if witnessing the inevitable unraveling of a beautiful illusion.
Without hesitation, he pulled her into the water.
The bath splashed and spilled around them, water rising like a tide of confession. Her body floated for a moment, suspended, the delicate fabric of her chemise billowing atop the surface, before sinking slowly, enveloped by warmth.
But her eyes never left his.
He cradled her cheeks with a tenderness reserved for no one else. His fingers traced the curve of her skin as if committing every detail to memory. For no reason, for no person did he summon such tenderness in his life. Always, only for her.
"Yes," he whispered, his voice low, sure, and filled with reverence. "I’ve always known."
He watched her.
This girl... this woman... the one who had woven herself into his life for almost half of it, the one who could move him, unnerve him, and stun him, all at once... The woman who held his heart, reshaped his destiny, and became his love. His wife. His goddess.
Her lips trembled, quivering like fragile petals. Tears welled in her eyes, shimmering in the soft light of the bath. And... her heart began to open.
He didn’t like that she seemed surprised by such an obvious truth, but he watched with a quiet, aching pride as she absorbed his words. Each syllable, each breath, etched itself into her heart, which was once torn, once betrayed, yet slowly healing from every shard of pain, every cruel lie, every abandonment.
This remarkable woman... The one the prophecies had whispered about, who held such power in the kingdom... All she needed... all she ever wanted... Was to hear him say it. That despite every storm, every shadow, every misstep...
He had only ever loved her.
After every mountain climbed, every secret unraveled, every betrayal endured... This... this was what truly satisfied her pure little heart that only knew to love him.
When he left her to meet the Dowager, his chest had been breaking, piece by piece, in silence.
He had gone with only one purpose: to protect her and to shield her from the dark claws of that woman... that poison masked as an oracle, that specter.
His heart wasn’t heavy from anger, nor from fear. It ached because of her because of the unbearable thought that the one woman he had loved... didn’t know how much he loved her.
He had always been so certain. So foolishly certain that she knew that he loved her, just like he was sure that she loved him. That belief was all he had clung to, the only light in the suffocating darkness of his life. Every battle, every war, every agonizing night spent apart... It had been for the hope of returning to her arms.
He had never found the need for letters, nor declarations. Because how could words ever capture the depth of longing, the silent ache of his soul? When she stopped writing her usual long letters talking about her day and those who had mistreated her, when her letters grew scarce... when the words became hollow and perfunctory...
He didn’t blame her.
He believed... She loved him. Words weren’t needed when their hearts were united, even as the silence stretched like an abyss between them.
Even now, he thought he had told her everything when he had confessed he accepted her—every fragment of her. The Swan Divina, Lazira... the woman of prophecy, the woman the kingdom whispered of in fear. When he touched her, he had meant it as the most sacred vow:
That she was his wife. Nothing more complicated, nothing more damned.
But then... that accusation from her that came out of nowhere; that wound cut deeper than any sword.
That poisonous lie, that he had wanted Elyse...and he had settled for the "powerless" her. How could she not know that? That meant she knew nothing about him because she defined him. If she herself did not realize that... then his life meant nothing. It was dust.
If he were to be honest...
He regretted every single choice, every single moment that led him there. Every unspoken word, every withheld letter, every assumption that her love was unwavering.
When he returned today, he knew that his meeting with the Dowager would have reached her.
He would have been surprised if she didn’t watch him, like some innocent little bird. He expected her to blow off.
And there she was. Smiling at him. That same fucking smile that lit up her face when his eyes met hers.
How could she smile after everything? He couldn’t even smile back as his heart was pricking him. Bu he would do anything to protect her.
If he believed... even for a single breath, that the woman he had loved for as long as he could remember had loved another or that she had settled for him out of pity... obligation...that she had chosen him, having no other choice... He would have died then and there.
And if he believed that she thought him useless, and that he was nothing but a shadow in her life... He would have welcomed death as a mercy.
But...
She... She protected him. Still.
She still loved him with that quiet, defiant strength that refused to bend to despair or cruelty, even as the world twisted and threatened to swallow them whole, even as every whisper, every gaze, every calculated threat was designed to drive them apart...
She smiled.
That smile—soft, painful, unwavering—was not for anyone else but him. It was not an act of pity or resignation.
It was love.
Pure, fierce, and selfless. Beyond selfless.
She bore the scars of silence, the weight of expectation, the ache of betrayal... And yet she carried it all with grace, with unwavering resolve...
Because she had promised. Promised to live for him.
Not for power.
Not for duty.
But for the man who had carved himself into her soul, who had claimed her heart without hesitation.
Leroy couldn’t fathom the magnitude of how such love could exist, untouched by time or tragedy, still burning brightly through the storm.
Love that made her slap him when he wavered from the pedestal she had put him on... the same love that made her cry, thinking she had hurt him with that little slap...
He could never love her as much as she loved him. And that was the truth. He had knew it always and she proved it once more.
He held her cheek and wiped the tears falling down her cheeks. He could never get mad at her for what she didn’t know. What he had never expressed. He had told her that he loved her, but never told her that he had only loved her.
"You’re the only woman I’ve ever loved. Ever. Ever," he repeated.