One month had passed since Mirha's return to Taico.
Most of her days were spent wrapped in Arvin's arms — the two of them practically inseparable, stealing moments whenever duty allowed. Vharin, meanwhile, had quietly devoted himself to caring for Kanha, as if trying to make up for the daughter Arvin had claimed as his own.
That evening, Nailah sat alone in the pavilion, watching Prince Kilimah play with the maids. Her gaze drifted across the garden as Rnzo and Yadid passed by in the distance. For the briefest second, Yadid's eyes met hers. Nailah's heart dropped, and a strange flutter stirred low in her stomach.
She shook her head sharply, scolding herself. Stop. You've just been lonely. Yadid had been such a good friend during her pregnancy — nothing more. She refused to let her mind wander any further.
Still, the thought lingered.
A few evenings later, Nailah found herself walking toward Yadid's chambers, telling herself it was only to say hello. She slipped inside quietly and froze when she saw him alone, sorting through medical scrolls by lamplight.
Yadid looked up. The moment their eyes met, the air thickened.
"Your Majesty," he said, bowing low. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"
Nailah's mouth went dry. "I… I hurt my wrist earlier while carrying Kilimah. I thought maybe you could check it."
Yadid raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced, but he gestured to the chair. "Please, sit. Let me have a look."
Nailah hesitated, then stepped closer. "It's… it's probably nothing. I was being dramatic."
"I insist," Yadid said softly, already crossing the distance between them.
He took her hand gently. The moment his fingers touched her skin, Nailah's breath hitched. Her pulse jumped under his touch. Yadid examined her wrist with professional care, but his thumb brushed slowly over the vein, lingering far longer than necessary.
When he looked up, Nailah's cheeks were flushed, her breathing shallow.
The tension snapped.
Yadid leaned in and kissed her.
It wasn't gentle. It was years of suppressed longing finally breaking free — deep, hungry, desperate. Nailah melted into it despite the voice screaming in her head that this was wrong. Her hands clutched his robes as he kissed her harder, deeper, lifting her effortlessly onto the table behind her.
They broke apart panting, foreheads pressed together.
Nailah's hand flew to her mouth, eyes wide with shock. "Why did you do that?"
Yadid's voice was rough, trembling with honesty. "I have always wanted to do that."
Nailah's breath shook. "The emperor will kill you."
"Then let me die loving you," he whispered, voice cracking with raw need.
He kissed her again. This time Nailah kissed him back just as fiercely, her fingers digging into his shoulders. Between kisses, Yadid murmured against her lips, "I really missed you… I've missed you for so long."
Nailah was overwhelmed. She pushed him back slightly, sliding off the table on shaky legs, frantically fixing her hair and clothes.
Yadid stepped close again, helping her straighten her robe with trembling hands. He leaned in and whispered against her ear, voice thick with guilt and desire:
"I'm so sorry, Your Majesty…."
Nailah looked at him, eyes wide, heart pounding so hard she could barely breathe. She had no answer. No words. Only the terrifying realization that she had crossed a line she could never uncross.
"I'm sorry that i do not regret that" Yadid added.
She turned and fled the room without another word, leaving Yadid standing alone, chest heaving, the weight of what they had just done hanging heavy in the air.
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Nailah barely slept that night.
Every time she closed her eyes, she felt Yadid's hands on her waist, his mouth on hers, the way he had lifted her onto the table like she weighed nothing. The guilt was suffocating. She was the Empress. She had a son. She had vows. And yet her body still burned with the memory of his touch.
For days afterward, she avoided him completely.
She took different corridors, changed her schedule, and made sure their paths never crossed. But the absence only made it worse. She found herself wondering where he was, if he was thinking about her too, if he regretted it as much as she told herself she did.
One afternoon, she had a private meeting with Kanha in the small receiving room.
Kanha sat across from her, hands folded tightly in her lap. "Lord Fahit proposed to me this afternoon."
Nailah's brows furrowed. "I doubt he intends it. He and his great looks have created quite a stir in Taico — with the women, to be exact."
Kanha took a slow sip of tea, then said calmly, "I said yes."
Nailah stared at her. "You must be joking."
"He is the only one who wants me," Kanha said quietly, "despite being aware of my recent situation."
Nailah leaned forward. "If it's about no one wanting you, I have a list of suitors I can arrange for you."
Kanha met her eyes. "Do they know anything?"
Nailah paused. "No. But isn't it better that way? They don't have to know."
Kanha's voice cracked slightly. "If they find out, it will be a repetition of everything. I am begging you… let me marry Fahit. That's all I ask of you."
Nailah didn't argue further. She simply nodded, though the decision sat heavy in her chest.
After dinner, Nailah returned to her chambers, still unsettled. She closed the door carefully behind her — and froze.
Yadid was already inside.
The moment the door clicked shut, the air thickened. Neither of them spoke. Yadid crossed the room in two strides and kissed her — deep, desperate, hungry. This time there was no hesitation, no half-hearted push away.
Nailah melted into it instantly. Her hands clutched his robes as he backed her against the wall, kissing her harder, deeper. The guilt screamed in her mind, but her body betrayed her completely. She wanted this. She had wanted this for days.
Before either of them could stop themselves, Yadid had lifted her onto the table again. Her legs wrapped around his waist as he pushed her skirts up. There was no slow build this time — only raw, overwhelming need.
He entered her in one smooth, deep thrust.
Nailah gasped sharply, nails digging into his shoulders as he filled her completely. Yadid groaned against her neck, hips moving with urgent, powerful strokes.
"I missed you," he rasped between kisses. "Gods, I missed you so much…"
Nailah could only moan in response, her head falling back as he took her harder, the table creaking beneath them. The guilt was still there — sharp and painful — but it was drowned out by the fire between them, the weeks of suppressed longing finally breaking free.
They didn't speak of consequences. Not tonight.
There was only the heat, the desperation, and the terrifying realization that neither of them wanted to stop.