CHAPTER 355: HIS BEAUTIFUL MEMORY

[Lavinia’s POV—Imperial Balcony—Continuation]

The night did not answer.

Neither did he.

For a heartbeat—just one—I wondered if I had gone too far. If the crown had slipped. If the princess had spoken when she should have remained silent.

Haldor’s breath hitched.

Once.

Twice.

But he didn’t move an inch. The silence stretched—heavy and terrifying.

Gods... I’m such an idiot. How could I ask something like that?

I swallowed, heat creeping up my neck, my fingers loosening from his uniform as I prepared to step back—

—WHOOSH.

The world shifted.

"Huh—?"

Suddenly, his grip tightened around my waist—firm, steady, unmistakably real. I gasped as the distance of an inch between us vanished, my breath catching when I felt his chest against mine, his warmth surrounding me like a shield.

He leaned down just enough that I could feel his breath on my lips.

"Can I..." he asked, voice rough and unsteady in a way I had never heard before, "...really?"

I looked up at him.

And froze.

Because the expression on his face—I had never seen it. Not the cold, disciplined captain. Not the stoic soldier carved from steel.

This was something else.

Soft. So soft it hurt to look at.

His blue eyes were no longer guarded—they were wide, open, and luminous, like a man standing at the edge of something sacred. A young man who had fallen in love for the first time... and would burn the world to protect it if he had to.

He was...so mesmerizing.

My heart stuttered.

I lifted my hands slowly, resting them against his shoulders—feeling the strength beneath my palms, the tension barely held together by will alone.

"Yes," I whispered.

That was all.

One word.

Permission.

Something dangerous flashed through his eyes—not hunger, not recklessness—but devotion. And then, impossibly, he smiled.

A small, stunned, disbelieving smile, like he couldn’t believe the world had allowed him this moment.

His arms came around me fully then—firm, warm, possessive without being forceful—as if he were afraid I might disappear if he loosened his hold. I felt my feet leave the ground for just a second as he pulled me closer, anchoring me against him.

And then—His lips touched mine.

Softly.

Carefully.

Like he was testing whether the moment was real.

The kiss was warm—gentle pressure, a quiet meeting rather than a claim. His lips lingered, hesitant at first, as if asking again without words.

My breath trembled as I leaned into him.

And the hesitation melted.

Not into urgency—but into need.

The kiss deepened just enough to steal my breath, just enough to make my fingers curl into his uniform. His thumb brushed along my waist, slow and grounding, as if memorizing the shape of me.

I could feel his heartbeat—fast, unsteady—mirroring my own.

Time dissolved.

There was no empire. No crown. No captain.

Only warmth. Only closeness. Only this fragile, electric connection that felt like it had always been waiting.

When we finally parted, it was only by a breath. Our foreheads rested together, his nose brushing mine, our breathing uneven—shared—as if neither of us remembered how to exist separately anymore.

For a moment, neither of us spoke.

Because anything said now would change everything, and somehow... neither of us wanted to take it back. The balcony, the moon, the distant music—all of it blurred into something unreal. Silver light spilled over his face, softening the sharp lines I knew so well. When our eyes met again, time stilled.

It felt as if fate itself had paused—watching.

Approving.

As though something ancient and unseen had quietly nodded and stepped aside, allowing this moment to exist. Haldor lifted his hand slowly, hesitantly, as if afraid I might vanish if he moved too fast. His thumb brushed gently at the corner of my lips.

"...Your lipstick," he murmured.

I blinked, heat rushing to my cheeks.

He wiped the faint smudge with almost painful care—his touch feather-light, reverent, lingering just a second too long before he seemed to realize what he was doing.

And then—He stepped back.

Quickly.

Too quickly.

His face flushed all the way to his ears, his composure shattering in the most endearing way I had ever seen. He straightened, hands curling into fists at his sides, eyes very deliberately fixed somewhere over my shoulder.

"We—we should leave, Your Highness," he said, voice hoarse, barely steady. "Before... before someone notices."

I smiled—soft, uncontrollable.

I turned away first, not trusting myself to look at him any longer. My heart was still racing, my lips still warm, and my thoughts tangled beyond repair.

"Yes," I said quietly. "... Let’s go."

We walked side by side toward the ballroom doors.

Not touching.

Not looking.

And yet—every step felt heavier, brighter, and different. The music grew louder again. Laughter spilled into the corridor. The empire waited.

But something had already changed. Because when I crossed the threshold back into the ballroom, I knew—

No crown could undo what the moon had witnessed. No duty could erase what had been shared. And no matter how carefully we avoided each other’s eyes...

The night had already claimed us both.

***

[Haldor’s POV—Imperial Ballroom Balcony—Moments Later]

I shouldn’t have done that.

That thought came first.

Not because I regretted it—never that—but because I knew, with terrifying clarity, that nothing in my life would ever return to the way it was before her lips touched mine.

My heart was still pounding like I had just come back from battle. No—worse. Battles ended. This... this felt like something that had only just begun.

I stood beside her as we walked back toward the ballroom, hands clenched at my sides, every nerve screaming awareness.

Don’t look at her. If you look again, you won’t survive this with your discipline intact.

The warmth of her was still on me—on my lips, in my chest, in places I didn’t know could ache. I could still feel the gentle pressure of her fingers on my shoulder, the way she had said yes so easily, so trustingly.

As if choosing me was natural.

That was the most dangerous part.

I had kissed death on battlefields before. But this—this was kissing hope.

And hope was far more terrifying, and I let myself touch something beautiful and forbidden.

I cleared my throat, forcing my voice back into something resembling control. "Your Highness... forgive—"

She stopped walking.

"Haldor," she said, cutting me off before I could finish, not even looking at me, her tone perfectly calm, "if you apologize again, I’ll start to feel like I sexually harassed my captain."

I froze.

My brain—trained for war, strategy, and survival—short-circuited completely.

"W—What?" I blurted, panic spiking. "Your Highness, you would never—"

And then...

"Pfft—!"

She laughed.

Actually laughed.

The sound was soft, bright, and completely unguarded. She finally glanced at me then, eyes gleaming with mischief and warmth.

"You’re cute when you panic," she said lightly.

That was it.

That single sentence reduced me to ashes.

Heat rushed to my face so fast I was certain I was glowing brighter than the chandeliers inside. I turned my gaze away immediately, mortified, shoulders stiffening as if discipline could save me now.

She smiled—not teasing this time, but gentle. Real.

"You know," she continued, her voice softer now, more deliberate, "I don’t regret the things I do. Not my choices. Not my mistakes."

Her steps slowed again.

"Not what happened on that balcony either."

I looked at her then. I couldn’t help it.

She met my eyes fully.

"So if you’re thinking," she said quietly, "that you shouldn’t have done it... or that you didn’t deserve it—"

She stopped walking completely.

"Engrave this in your heart, Haldor."

My breath caught.

"I took the first step," she said. "And you—"

Her gaze didn’t waver.

"—You deserve everything in this world."

What is this? She had said these same words many times before. Praised my loyalty. My service. My discipline.

But this—this was different.

These words didn’t land on my rank. They didn’t land on my duty. They landed directly on the part of me that had learned, long ago, not to hope.

My chest tightened painfully.

Why did it hurt like this? Why did it feel like something fragile inside me was finally being seen?

Was it because I had started liking her? Or because she had opened a door I never knew I was allowed to approach?

Maybe both.

Maybe neither.

All I knew was—today... today was unlike any day I had lived before. Before I could stop myself, the truth slipped out. Soft. Bare. Untested.

"You’re..." I swallowed hard, my voice barely holding together, "...you’re my first beautiful memory, Your Highness."

The words hung between us.

Her eyes widened—not in shock, but in something quieter. Something that mirrored the way my own chest felt moments ago.

And for a heartbeat—just one—the world stilled around us again.

No crown.No, captain.No empire.

Just two people standing too close to the edge of something neither of us yet understood. And somehow... neither of us stepped back.