Third Arc (Fallen Heart) - 366. Never-ending Battles

"That's how it is when you're in charge," Angel said, his tone calm but laced with experience. "There's always someone waiting for you to slip up. But that doesn't mean you're failing. It just means they're afraid of what you can become."

Rose glanced at him, her brow furrowing slightly. "It'll always be like that, won't it? The constant struggle, the never-ending battles. It doesn't matter how much we accomplish—there will always be something else."

"It will always be like that," Angel replied evenly. "And I can understand that better than most."

Rose studied him for a moment, noticing the subtle trace of bitterness in his cold expression. It wasn't the sharp kind of bitterness that came with anger—it was deeper, something forged in experience and pain. "Did you learn that from the beginning?" she asked gently. "Since you were the prince of Asteria?"

Angel nodded slowly, his gaze distant as if recalling a memory he rarely allowed himself to visit. "Since my father died, to be exact. That was a good lesson. Harsh, but a good one. At least I can use it now."

The words were matter-of-fact, almost detached, but Rose could hear the echo of what he didn't say—the loss, the responsibility thrust upon him, the battles he'd fought to keep his kingdom intact. She felt a pang of sympathy, though she knew he wouldn't want it. "Indeed," she said quietly, her voice softening as she fell silent again.

Angel's gaze shifted back to her, studying her contemplative expression. Without a word, he patted his lap, a small smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Come here."

Rose blinked, taken aback for a moment. "Are you trying to be bold?" she asked, a teasing smile tugging at her lips despite herself.

"Yes," Angel said simply, his tone completely serious, which only made her laugh softly.

She hesitated for a moment, glancing at her dress. "You realize this thing isn't exactly designed for sitting on someone's lap, right?"

"Then take it as a challenge," he replied, leaning back slightly in his chair, his smirk widening.

Rose shook her head, but she couldn't help the warmth spreading through her chest. Despite their earlier conversation, Angel had a way of pulling her out of her own thoughts, of making things feel lighter, even if just for a moment. With a soft sigh, she gathered the fabric of her gown as best she could and moved to sit on his lap.

It wasn't easy—her dress was heavy and layered, and the logistics of it all felt ridiculous—but Angel's hands rested lightly on her waist, steadying her as she settled herself. "Happy now?" she asked, her tone laced with humor, though her cheeks were warm.

"Very," he said, his voice low and sincere.

Rose leaned back slightly, resting her head against his shoulder. The quiet crackle of the fire filled the space around them. She could feel the steady rhythm of Angel's breathing, the solid warmth of him beneath her. It was… comforting in a way she hadn't expected.

"You're good at this," she murmured after a moment, her voice barely above a whisper.

"At what?" he asked, tilting his head to glance down at her.

"This," she said, gesturing vaguely. "Making me feel like the world isn't falling apart. Like I'm not failing."

"You're not failing," Angel said firmly. "And as for the world falling apart, well… that's why we're here."

Rose smiled faintly, closing her eyes. "You make it sound so simple."

"It's not," he admitted. "But it's worth it. You're worth it."

Her heart tightened at his words, and for a moment, she couldn't find the right response. Instead, she reached up, letting her fingers brush lightly against his hand where it rested on her waist. "Thank you," she said softly.

Angel didn't respond immediately, but the way his grip tightened ever so slightly on her waist was answer enough. They sat there in silence for a while longer, feeling less like rulers and more like two people who had found something worth holding on to, even in the midst of chaos. The quiet crackle of the fire was their only companion.

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