The palace had always been a place of opulence and tradition, a symbol of power and control that had shaped Harmony’s life for as long as she could remember. The marble floors, the towering columns, the delicate tapestries—each element reinforced the rigid hierarchy that had kept her and her family perched at the top of Xanthea’s social structure. But now, as the whispers began to swirl and the weight of her choices pressed down on her, the grandeur of the palace felt more like a gilded cage, suffocating her with every passing moment.

The news of Harmony’s relationship with Stelaryn had exploded through the palace like wildfire. Courtiers, advisors, and even servants exchanged hushed words, their voices filled with shock, disbelief, and judgment. To them, it was an unimaginable betrayal—her love for a Xanthean commoner, someone from the very class her family had worked tirelessly to control, was an affront to everything they stood for. The very idea that a princess, the embodiment of Earth’s power, would lower herself to such a relationship was not just a scandal—it was a threat to the delicate balance of their world.

Harmony had known the risks from the beginning. She had been prepared for the whispers, for the scorn, but the magnitude of the palace’s outrage was far more than she had anticipated. What had started as a quiet rebellion, a personal choice she had made in the secrecy of Station Orinth, had now become a public crisis. The walls she had worked so hard to build around her private life had crumbled, and in their place was nothing but the cold, unforgiving gaze of her family and their court.

The summons to her father’s private study came as no surprise. Her father had always been the one to maintain order, to ensure that nothing disrupted the carefully constructed image of their family. As Harmony made her way through the palace corridors, each step felt heavier than the last, her heart pounding in her chest. The study was a place she had always avoided, a room where the gravity of her father’s authority pressed down on all who entered. It was here that decisions were made, here that futures were shaped—and now, it was here that she would face the consequences of her defiance.

As she entered, the room felt colder than usual, the shadows longer. King Emery stood by the large, arched window, his back to her. The light from the window cast a long shadow over him, making him appear even more imposing, a man hardened by years of duty and unyielding in his authority. He didn’t turn as she entered, his figure a silhouette against the daylight pouring in.

“Is it true?” he asked, his voice low and controlled, but the simmering anger beneath was undeniable. Harmony could feel it radiating from him, an invisible force that made the room feel smaller, tighter.

She took a deep breath, steadying herself. She had never backed down from him before, and she wasn’t about to now. “Yes, it’s true,” she said, her voice firm, unwavering. “I love him.”

When he turned to face her, the fury in his eyes was unmistakable. His face, usually a mask of stoic resolve, was twisted in disbelief, his expression hard and unforgiving. “A Xanthean commoner, Harmony?” His words were sharp, each one a dagger. “Do you realize the disgrace this brings upon our family? The peace treaty is hanging by a thread, and now… this? Your reckless behavior could destroy everything we’ve worked for, everything our family represents.”

Harmony’s heart tightened at his words, the weight of his anger pressing down on her like a physical force. The guilt she had tried to bury stirred, but she refused to let it take root. She had made her choice, and she would stand by it, no matter the cost. Her gaze never wavered as she met his eyes. “The treaty was never meant to be real peace,” she said, her voice steady despite the storm inside her. “It’s just a way for the elite to maintain control, to keep both humans and Xantheans in line while our family and others like us remain in power. Stelaryn and I… we want something better, something that includes everyone—not just the privileged few who benefit from this false peace.”

Her words hung in the air between them, and for a moment, she thought she saw a flicker of something—maybe understanding, maybe doubt—cross her father’s face. But it was gone as quickly as it appeared, replaced by the same cold disdain. He crossed the room in a few strides, his posture imposing as he towered over her. “You sound like a revolutionary,” he spat, his voice dripping with contempt. “Do you intend to bring ruin upon our family for the sake of this… this delusion? This foolish idea that you, a princess, could change centuries of tradition and hierarchy with the help of some Xanthean commoner?”

Harmony’s hands trembled at her sides, but she didn’t let them show. The anger and frustration that had been building inside her for so long came rushing to the surface. How could he be so blind? How could he not see that she was fighting for something real, something more than power, something that mattered? “It’s not a delusion,” she replied, her voice quieter now, but no less firm. “It’s hope. And if you can’t see that, if you can’t understand why we’re fighting for a world where people are treated as equals, then maybe the problem lies with you.”

Silence fell between them, heavy and suffocating. Her father’s eyes narrowed, his lips thinning into a tight line. She could feel the walls closing in on her, the pressure of his gaze weighing on her more than anything else. His silence was more terrifying than any punishment he could deliver.

Finally, he spoke, his voice low and cold. “You will end this, Harmony. You will cut ties with him, or you will lose your place here. Those are your only options.”

Harmony’s breath caught in her throat, the finality of his words cutting through her like a blade. The ultimatum was clear, the choice stark: her family, or Stelaryn. The weight of the decision pressed on her, and for a moment, she thought of the life she would lose—her title, her position, everything she had ever known. But the thought of giving up Stelaryn, of returning to a life dictated by duty and expectation, was unbearable.

With a trembling voice, but a heart full of defiance, she looked her father in the eye. “Then maybe I don’t belong here.”

For the first time, Harmony saw a flicker of something in her father’s expression—a brief, unspoken moment of hesitation. But it was gone before she could make sense of it, replaced by the same cold, unyielding mask he had worn for so many years. Without another word, she turned and left the study, her heart pounding in her chest. The walls of the palace seemed to close in around her as she walked down the familiar, polished halls, the whispers of the courtiers following her like shadows.

When she reached her chambers, she closed the door behind her, the sound of it locking echoing through the silence. She sank down onto the edge of her bed, her hands trembling as she tried to steady herself. Her father’s words still echoed in her mind, his rejection cutting deeper than she had expected. But as the anger began to subside, something else took its place—a quiet sense of relief. For the first time in her life, she had chosen herself. She had chosen the future she wanted, not the one that had been forced upon her.

Later that evening, after the weight of the day had settled, Harmony sat at her desk, her mind racing. She couldn’t let Stelaryn’s sacrifice be in vain. She knew her father would not back down; Ryker would intensify his pursuit of her, and the palace would grow more oppressive with each passing day. But Harmony wasn’t afraid anymore. Her heart was steady, her resolve unshakeable.

She pulled out the device Zephyr had given her and sent a message to Stelaryn. The words she typed were simple but heavy with meaning: “I told my father everything. I chose you, Stelaryn. I chose us.”

Her pulse quickened as she waited for his reply, her fingers trembling as she hovered over the screen. A few moments later, his reply appeared, a quiet balm for the storm inside her. “Then we’ll face whatever comes. Together.”

His words filled her with warmth, with a certainty that strengthened her resolve. Stelaryn’s love had become more than just a rebellion; it had become her life’s purpose, a cause worth fighting for. As the night stretched on and the palace walls felt colder than ever, Harmony made a vow to herself: no matter what lay ahead, she would face it with the courage and strength that Stelaryn had shown her. She would never turn back.

Her heart was steady, her love for him unshakable. There was no going back. The battle had only just begun, but she was ready to fight, to love, and to live freely, no matter the cost.

Next Chapter: Stelaryn Faces Backlash on Xanthea