Forbidden Love

Medas sat still, his voice trembling as he began the next part of his story. The weight of his memories seemed almost too much to bear.

"But I couldn't stand it," Medas said, his tone a mixture of frustration and sorrow. "I couldn't bear to see her like that—standing there, markless, surrounded by whispers and stares. She didn't deserve that. Not Hiraya."

He clenched his fists, his gaze hardening. "So I did the only thing I could think of. I took a deep breath, ignored the weight of the court's expectations, and walked toward her. Every step felt heavier than the last, but I didn't stop until I was standing in front of her."

Medas' voice softened. "I took off my cloak and draped it over her shoulders. I wanted to hug her, to tell her everything would be okay, but I couldn't. I was a prince, and she was a markless commoner. The line between us had never felt so vast."

Morvane listened intently, the tension in the room palpable.

"She looked at me, confused," Medas continued. "Her voice was quiet, almost fragile, as she asked, 'What's happening?'"

His shoulders sagged slightly. "I didn't know what to say. I didn't have an answer for her because I didn't understand it myself. Why did this happen to her? Why did she, of all people, have to go through this? All I could do was stand there, useless, while she looked at me with those pleading eyes."

Medas' expression darkened. "And then, out of the corner of my eye, I saw them—my mother and father. They were standing at the edge of the arena, watching me."

Morvane frowned. "What did they do?"

"They didn't say anything to me directly," Medas said bitterly. "They didn't have to. My father gestured to the guards, and before I knew it, they were pulling Hiraya and me apart. I tried to fight, tried to tell them to let her go, but they didn't listen. They took her away, and for the rest of the ceremony, I didn't see her again."

He leaned back, exhaling sharply. "That night, I couldn't stay silent anymore. For the first time in my life, I raised my voice to my mother. I told her that Hiraya was my friend and that they had no right to treat her that way."

Morvane's eyes widened slightly. "What did she say?"

Medas' jaw tightened, his voice growing colder. "She said I was a prince, and Hiraya was nothing but a commoner. She told me that friendships like ours were dangerous, that they would only lead to chaos and ruin. I argued, shouted, begged—but they didn't budge. In their eyes, I wasn't just a boy. I was the crown prince, and my duty came before everything else—even the people I cared about."

He paused, his gaze distant. "That night was the first time I truly hated the crown. Hated the weight it placed on me. And hated how it kept me from the only person who ever made me feel free."

The room fell silent as Medas' words hung in the air, heavy with unspoken pain. Finally, he looked at Morvane, his expression resolute.

"They thought they could keep us apart," he said quietly. "But they underestimated me. I wasn't going to let them take Hiraya away from me—not without a fight."

Medas sighed deeply as he continued, the weight of his past pressing heavily on his words.

"My father, the king, died just one year after my Awakening. A sudden heart attack took him. I was only sixteen, and as the crown prince, I was next in line. That's how I became the youngest crowned king in the history of Ketamran."

He paused, his tone growing colder. "I didn't want the throne, but it was thrust upon me. Still, the first decision I made as king wasn't about politics or power—it was about her. I brought Hiraya to live in the palace. My mother was furious, of course. She hated Hiraya with every fiber of her being, but as queen dowager, she couldn't overrule me. I was the king."

Morvane looked at Medas with a mix of disbelief and intrigue. "You really brought her to the palace?"

"I did," Medas said firmly. "And for four years, we lived under the same roof. We faced endless scrutiny—whispers, gossip, and the judgment of the court. Hiraya was markless, after all. To them, she was unworthy of being so close to me. But we endured it all, together. Our bond only grew stronger with time."

He leaned forward, his expression softening. "At first, I thought she was just markless, with no special abilities. But then, one day, I found her talking to... nothing. At least, that's what it looked like. I was confused, but she admitted something to me that day—she could see spirits."

Morvane's eyes widened. "Spirits?"

Medas nodded. "At first, we were both overjoyed. She finally had an ability, even without a mark. For the first time, I saw her truly happy, as if a weight had been lifted from her shoulders. But then, things changed."

His tone darkened. "It wasn't just that she could see spirits. She could summon them too. One day, I saw it with my own eyes—her shadow crow beast, dark and powerful. She called it forth like it was an extension of herself."

Medas clenched his fists. "I thought it was incredible, but the people in the palace didn't see it that way. To them, her abilities were unnatural, even demonic. They whispered about her in fear, and those whispers turned into accusations. They demanded that I send her away, for the safety of the kingdom. And despite everything... I couldn't defend her."

Morvane frowned. "Why not?"

"I was the king, yes, but I was young, inexperienced. The court had power, and they used it to control me. I had to choose between her and the stability of the kingdom, and once again, she paid the price for my weakness."

Medas' voice broke slightly as he continued. "She was banished from the palace, but she didn't blame me. She smiled—smiled—as if to reassure me. She promised we would see each other again. We were twenty at the time, and before she left, I finally confessed to her. I told her I loved her."

He exhaled shakily. "She left that day, but we didn't stop communicating. We exchanged letters, keeping our connection alive despite the distance. And those letters, Morvane... those are the ones you found. The ones hidden behind her painting."

The room fell silent as Medas' voice trailed off. He looked at Morvane with a mix of sadness and determination. "Now you know everything. Hiraya wasn't just my friend—she was my heart. And I will protect her, no matter what."

Morvane sat in stunned silence, the weight of Medas' story filling the room. After a long pause, he finally asked, "What happened next?"

Medas wiped his eyes, steadying himself before continuing. "When my mother, the queen dowager, passed away, I felt a sense of freedom for the first time in years. At twenty-three, I was sure of myself—and sure of her. I wanted Hiraya back in the palace. I wanted to introduce her to the kingdom, to announce that she was the one I wanted to marry. I was ready to face the world with her by my side."

He took a deep breath. "I sent her a letter, pouring my heart into it. I told her everything—how much she meant to me, how I wanted her to return and be my queen. But that letter... that was the last one. She never replied. Not a single word."

Morvane frowned. "So, what did you do?"

"I couldn't wait any longer," Medas said. "I went to find her. It took some time, but eventually, I found her at the shrine where we used to meet. She was standing there, her crow perched on her shoulder. She smiled at me, but it wasn't the smile I remembered. Her eyes... they were dull, lifeless, like they were years ago at the Awakening."

Medas' voice grew softer. "I thought maybe she didn't receive my letter, so I walked up to her. I told her everything again—I wanted to marry her, to make her my queen, and to share my life with her. But before she could answer, the crow leaned toward her ear and whispered something. I couldn't hear it, but I saw her expression change. She looked... conflicted."

"What did she say?" Morvane asked, leaning forward.

"She told me she couldn't," Medas said, his voice breaking slightly. "She said being a couple was impossible. I asked her why, begged her for an answer, but she wouldn't tell me. That was when I started to believe that her crow beast was evil—that it was controlling her, twisting her mind against me."

Medas clenched his fists. "I became desperate. I hated that beast, hated what it was doing to her. So, I came up with a plan. I gave her a necklace—one I'd spent weeks searching for. It was an artifact, said to resist her powers and encapsulate them. She didn't want to accept it, but I told her it was just a friendship necklace, a symbol of the bond we'd always shared."

Morvane touched the broken necklace he'd found earlier, his heart sinking. "The same one that broke?"

"Yes," Medas confirmed. "She wore it, and for a while, things felt like they were going back to how they used to be. But then... she tried to summon her shadow beast, and it didn't appear. I told her it was probably nothing, that it would come back. But days turned into weeks, and she grew weaker. She couldn't see spirits anymore, couldn't eat, couldn't sleep. She told me she felt hollow, as if a part of her had been stolen."

Medas' voice cracked as he continued. "One day, I went to her cabin to check on her. What I saw..." He paused, his hands trembling. "She was cutting her skin, hoping the pain would bring the crow back. She looked at me, her dull eyes filled with despair, and said, 'I'm powerless again.'"

Morvane's breath caught in his throat. "What did you do?"

"I stayed with her," Medas said, tears streaming down his face. "I couldn't leave her like that. That night, I slept in her cabin, hoping my presence would bring her some comfort. But in the middle of the night, I woke up... and she was gone."

Medas' voice broke completely as he whispered, "She had hanged herself. I found her lifeless body swaying in the moonlight."

The room fell into a suffocating silence. Medas buried his face in his hands, his shoulders shaking with grief. "That's her story, Morvane. That's the truth. I failed her. I tried to save her, but all I did was take everything that made her who she was. I'll never forgive myself for what happened to Hiraya."

Morvane sat frozen, unable to speak. The pain in Medas' voice was undeniable, and the weight of Hiraya's tragic fate hung heavy in the air. For the first time, Morvane saw the cracks in Medas' carefully constructed facade—a man haunted by love, loss, and regret.