Swords & Secrets || BeckFreen [Completed]

Chapter 24: Freen's Special Point of View

How much more must I endure to grasp the love I crave? How much suffering must I endure to stand by the one meant to fill my life?

I grappled with indecision, questioning my choices. If only I had resisted, would fate have taken a different turn? Would I be left alone, watching her wed another? If only I had guarded my heart, would I have spared myself this agony?

"Once the esteemed knight arrives, ensure her safety," my brother commanded, his voice weighted with urgency. "The nobles will stop at nothing to seize her and the necklace. That necklace holds immense value, a million gold pieces. The knight is unaware of its significance. Protect her at all costs until you uncover the assassin's identity."

"And who is she to you?" I queried, drawing my bow taut as I trained my sights on a distant target.

"She is betrothed to me. She is my future wife and the future queen of our empire. Guard her, Freen. Guard her with your life," Saint implored before departing, leaving me burdened with a heavy heart.

Saint and I shared a distant bond, yet he had always shielded me from scorn during our youth. Though reserved, his love for me, his sister, was evident. Yet now, another occupied his thoughts—her. What qualities did she possess to captivate him so? Was her safety truly worth more than my own well-being?

Despite my misgivings, I complied with the crown prince's directive. Renowned as a rogue, he alone understood my true nature. He supported me unwaveringly, entrusting me with this crucial task. And so, I embarked on my journey to Seraphoria, duty-bound to protect the knight.

"Brother, I am reluctant to undertake this task. She surpasses me in skill," I confessed.

"Becca's prowess hinges on her sword. Without it, she is vulnerable. You must be her sword and shield," Saint asserted firmly.

Thus, I discovered the depth of my brother's convictions. Becca was unlike any other—a woman of unparalleled courage and strength. In her presence, my world shifted, my defenses crumbling. I allowed myself to fall, to surrender to love's embrace. It was my folly, my undoing.

Though I endeavored to bury my feelings, they persisted. I yearned to distance myself, yet feared for her safety. Thus, I pledged to protect her, to stand by her side, even as it tore my soul asunder.

Never before had I experienced such love. Society's dictates mattered not; my heart knew its own desires, regardless of gender or station.

"My dear," the Empress's voice interrupted my reverie as she entered my chamber, prompting me to hastily wipe my tears. Memories flooded my mind as I composed myself.

"Why the tears, Sarocha?" she inquired gently, joining me on the bed.

"It is naught but dust, Mother," I fibbed, feigning composure.

"Dust in the Imperial Princess's chamber?" The Empress chuckled, her gaze penetrating. "What troubles you, my child?"

I hesitated, reluctant to divulge the truth. To admit my forbidden love, to confess my pain—it was a sin I dared not commit. A union with Becca was forbidden, our union doomed to bear no heir. Yet the agony of witnessing her union with my brother threatened to consume me.

"I find solace in the knowledge that my brother's wedding approaches. Soon, you shall welcome a grandchild," I lied, tears threatening to spill once more.

"Sarocha, my child," the Empress murmured, pulling me close. "Your façade fools no one. Speak your truth, that I may offer counsel."

I longed to confess, yet the consequences loomed large. Could I bear the weight of my mother's disappointment? Yet her words stirred a flicker of hope within me—could I truly fight for love?

"Do you wish for me to intercede with your father?" she offered gently. "Though his consent is uncertain, I must attempt. You have fought tirelessly for all you hold dear. Why not fight for love, Sarocha?"

Determined, I rose and hastened to my brother's palace, desperate to make him understand. Yet he was engrossed in conversation with Becca, their smiles a cruel reminder of my heartache. Unable to bear the sight, I fled, fearing her acceptance of his proposal.

"Freen," the crown prince's voice halted my retreat, his gaze stern as he summoned me to his chamber.

"In the palace, Your Highness, you may call me by name," I corrected him, my voice trembling. "How may I serve you?"

"I wish to speak with you," he stated, gesturing for me to enter.

He looked at me with blank expression and I didn't hesitate to kneel in front of him.

"Brother, kill me."

"Why?"

"For I have fallen in love with your future queen."

In his chamber, I awaited his judgment, my heart heavy with apprehension. His words were few, his expression inscrutable. Would he condemn me for my affections, for loving the same woman he adored since childhood?

"Leave," he commanded, his tone devoid of emotion as he pointed to the door. "And do not return to this kingdom."

His verdict rendered, I departed, tears streaming down my cheeks. Though his words stung, I knew my love for Becca was worth the sacrifice, even if it meant exile from all I held dear.