Love The Way He Lied

Eva stood by the window of her modest home, her fingers unconsciously tracing the smooth edge of the table as she stared into the fading light outside. The thoughts that haunted her recently returned with full force—How do I see him?

She wasn't sure why it mattered so much. Was it just the desire to learn how to protect herself? Or something more… something unresolved between her and the man who once condemned her to death, yet now lived in her second life as her silent protector?

"I need to ask him," she whispered aloud. "To teach me how to use a sword."

Her heart thudded.

The idea was wild. Absurd, even. But necessary.

Kyel had protected her, yes—but for how long could she depend on others?

She was deep in thought when her noble friend, Lady Aranel, arrived in a carriage to take her to the tea party.

Eva hesitated for a moment. She was no longer a noble.

She had no place among silk gloves and diamond brooches.

But Aranel insisted, as she always did. "You need to breathe, Eva. Come meet people. Gossip is good for the soul."

So Eva went.

The garden of House Virellia was an embroidered painting come to life—wisteria falling in silken clusters from lattices, ivory parasols twirling gently in the breeze, and tables dressed in lacecloths, strawberries, and chilled teas with mint. It should've been peaceful.

It wasn't.

The moment Eva stepped onto the gravel path in her modest dress, whispers stirred like autumn leaves.

Aranel led her to the main table, where noblewomen sat with painted lips and polished grins, each wearing gowns that cost more than Eva's entire closet.

One of the girls smirked over her teacup. "So," she began, drawing the others' attention, "have you received your invitation to His Majesty's birthday banquet?"

"Oh yes!" said another. "All of us noble ladies have. I heard there will be a dance... and the emperor may choose his future empress that night."

The fans stopped fluttering. Eyes turned to Eva.

One girl asked, "Lady Eva, did you receive an invitation too?"

Eva smiled politely. "No, I haven't."

"Oh." The girl widened her eyes dramatically. "Forgive me. I forgot you're a commoner now."

Laughter rang out like bells chiming on broken glass.

But before Eva could respond, Aranel slammed her teacup down.

"Mind your tongue," she snapped.

"Eva is my guest. My friend.

So what if she didn't get an invitation? She'll attend with me."

The laughter stopped abruptly.

A few of the girls exchanged nervous glances, while others looked away, embarrassed. Aranel's noble rank was higher than theirs, and her words had teeth.

The conversation resumed awkwardly until another lady leaned forward and whispered, "There's more. I heard the neighboring empire's prince will be there too. Prince Velco of Drexenthur."

Back at the palace, Hans walked swiftly down the golden corridor to the Emperor's chambers.

"Your Majesty," he said after bowing, "rumors are spreading across noble circles. The court believes you'll be choosing your bride at the birthday banquet."

Eyan looked up from the parchment he was reading. His expression was unreadable, but his eyes sharpened.

"Who started this nonsense?"

Hans hesitated. "Your father."

A long silence.

Eyan's voice was low. "Of all people, you are telling me this? You know I'm already married to princess."

"I know," Hans said quietly. "But your father doesn't. He believes it's time. And the nobles—well, they're excited by the idea."

Eyan set the parchment down and stood. "I should have expected it."

Hans added, "About the opening dance. I must ask—who do you plan to dance with?"

"No one," Eyan said coldly.

With a sigh, Eyan turned away. "I'll speak to my father."

The former emperor (Zephrael Therald) sat like a withered shadow of his former glory, yet his voice held power.

Eyan stood before him. "How is your health, Father?"

The old man didn't answer the question. Instead, he said in a gravelly tone, "Get married. Produce an heir. This empire needs a future—someone to protect the Zeradros."

Eyan's eyes darkened. "I don't want to get married."

"Why not?" his father barked. "Is it true, then? That you prefer men?"

Eyan stiffened. "What?!"

"Don't act surprised. No female attendants. No maids. Your palace is filled with men. Rumors grow where silence lies."

Eyan clenched his fists. "I have Hans. He handles everything."

"You're crushing him. Hire a female assistant. And a maid."

Eyan gave a reluctant nod. "Fine. But just to be clear—I like womens not men so worry about the rumour

And with that, he walked out.

Elsewhere, Eva walked alone through the merchant district.

Colorful dresses spun on display mannequins as shopkeepers called out prices and praises.

She stopped in front of a crimson gown. It shimmered like wine in sunlight, simple but graceful. She could imagine herself walking into the ballroom, catching Eyan's eye—not as a woman scorned, but as someone determined.

But the price made her heart sink.

She moved on and found a more modest dress. Plain. Affordable.

"It's enough," she whispered. "I'm not going there to impress anyone. I just need to ask him."

Back at home, she laid the dress carefully on the bed. Her heart ached with conflict. Should she tell Kyel? She decided not to—at least not yet.

"If he agrees to train me… then I'll tell Kyel."

She looked down at her hand—and froze.

Her wedding ring was gone.

"No… no, no…"

She dropped to her knees, searching the floor, the corners, the windowsill, even her pillow. Nowhere.

Tears welled in her eyes.

Kyel came home moments later and saw her distressed expression. "Eva? What's wrong?"

"I… I lost it," she whispered. "My ring. I can't find it anywhere."

Kyel's mind raced. He remembered the knight handing it to him during the rescue… but in the chaos afterward, he must have dropped it.

He knelt beside her. "Don't worry. I'll get you a new one."

"But it'll cost so much," Eva whispered. "We're already tight on money."

Kyel took her hands gently. "You don't need to worry about that. I'll take care of it."

She tried to smile, but her heart was heavy.