A Nightmare That Never Fades

Diana jolted awake, breath ragged, her body drenched in sweat. The scent of blood, the cries of the battlefield, and the parchment stained with her son's name clung to her mind like a curse.

For a moment, she couldn't breathe.

For a moment, she was back in that life.

Her fingers clutched the silk sheets beneath her, her body rigid. She had forgotten, or perhaps she had convinced herself she had forgotten. The screams. The hopelessness. The hollow agony when she received that letter.

But then—

Warmth.

A small, delicate hand holding hers.

Her vision cleared, her golden eyes adjusting to the dim light of her chamber. The walls, the bed—her bed—the lingering scent of fresh linen and lavender. And beside her, his soft breathing.

Lucien.

Alive.

Her heart clenched as she turned her head.

Her son lay beside her, curled up on top of the blanket, his small fingers wrapped around her hand. His black hair was slightly tousled, his pale face peaceful in sleep.

Diana exhaled shakily, her free hand covering her mouth.

He's here.

She squeezed his hand gently, as if reassuring herself that he was real. That this wasn't another cruel dream.

It had been a long time since she last had that nightmare.

She thought she had buried it.

But perhaps—perhaps her meeting with Lucius Nightbane had unearthed something within her.

The past doesn't die so easily, she thought bitterly.

But she was here now. This time, she would not make the same mistakes.

Diana shifted slightly, careful not to wake Lucien. She brushed a few strands of hair from his face, her touch featherlight.

Then, slowly, she lay back down, staring at the ceiling.

She did not sleep again.

*****

The palace gardens were in full bloom, the air filled with the scent of roses and fresh earth. Butterflies danced lazily in the air, and the distant sound of the fountain provided a peaceful backdrop.

Diana sat at the table, her back straight, her expression composed. She had dressed simply—pants instead of a gown, her silver hair loosely tied behind her. Unladylike, but she hardly cared.

Across from her, Cassian sipped his tea, his face unreadable.

This was the first time he had invited her for tea.

Before this? Never.

Her husband, the Emperor, the man who had betrayed her, abandoned her, discarded her like an unwanted pawn.

And yet, here they were, sitting together like an illusion of the past.

Diana lifted her teacup, taking a slow sip.

Ah. Bitter.

She almost laughed. How fitting.

Cassian looked the same. The same dark black hair, the same soft gray eyes that had once looked at her with warmth. The same face that had once made her heart race.

Now?

Now it was suffocating.

The man she had once loved. The man she had once thought was hers.

She had let him go. She had freed herself from that love.

And yet, sitting across from him now, the past felt like a ghost lingering in the air.

"About the upcoming delegation," Cassian began, his voice calm and measured. "Liliana will be handling it, but I wanted to hear your thoughts on the noble factions' stance."

Diana almost smiled. Of course.

So that was why he had invited her.

Not for her.

Not for Lucien.

But for Liliana.

She set her teacup down with a quiet clink.

"Liliana will have her hands full," she said, her tone neutral. "The southern nobles are still wary after the recent tax reforms. They'll test her, subtly at first, but they won't make things easy."

Cassian nodded, listening carefully. "And the foreign envoys?"

"They respect strength," Diana replied. "If Liliana shows even a hint of hesitation, they'll see it as a weakness."

He hummed in thought, fingers tapping against the table. "I see. I'll advise her accordingly."

Diana's lips curled in something that wasn't quite a smile.

So that was it.

He was here, asking her for guidance, only to hand over her words to Liliana.

The woman he truly loved.

Diana inhaled slowly, steadying herself.

She had already let go of this man.

She had already accepted this truth.

She would not waver now.

And yet—

When Cassian spoke again, something in his voice made her fingers tighten around the porcelain cup.

"Lucien needs a strict tutor," he said. "If he is to be a proper crown prince candidate—"

Diana's golden eyes snapped to his.

A sharp, piercing gaze.

"Lies," she said flatly.

Cassian's fingers stilled. "...What?"

Diana tilted her head slightly, resting one arm on the table. "Lucien is not your crown prince candidate."

A flicker of something unreadable crossed Cassian's face.

Diana continued, her voice unwavering. "You've already made your choice. Roan is the one the nobility supports. Roan is the one Liliana favors. You've kept your distance from Lucien because of that decision."

Silence.

The air between them felt heavy.

Cassian did not deny it.

He didn't even try.

Diana chuckled, a soft, almost amused sound.

"You say this as if you've been involved in his education," she said, her golden eyes sharp. "But you haven't, have you?"

Cassian's jaw tightened.

Diana leaned forward slightly, her posture casual, but her gaze unyielding. "You can play house if you want, Cassian. You and Liliana can build whatever little fantasy you've envisioned."

She exhaled slowly.

"But I will be the Empress for Lucien's sake. Not yours."

Cassian looked at her then—truly looked at her.

There was something different in her now.

Gone was the woman who once sought his approval.

Gone was the wife who once longed for his love.

The Diana sitting before him was unshaken, untouchable.

And perhaps, for the first time, Cassian realized—

She no longer needed him.

Perhaps she never had.

The Emperor set his teacup down.

"I see," he murmured.

Diana smiled, but it didn't reach her eyes.

"Good," she said simply.

The conversation continued, but Diana knew—

This was the first, and last, tea party they would ever have.

*****

Cassian sat at his desk, eyes scanning the endless stack of documents, yet his mind wandered elsewhere.

Lately, something had been bothering him.

Diana.

She had changed.

For years, she had been predictable—clinging to him in her quiet, unshakable way. Never desperate, never openly begging, but always there.

She had taken pride in presenting Lucien in the best clothes, ensuring their son looked every bit the perfect imperial heir. When noble matters required discussion, she had always offered the support of the Hinsdale family, her prestigious lineage securing his position as Emperor.

But now?

Now she was distant.

No, indifferent.

After their tea time a few days ago, he expected some form of response. Some attempt to get closer again, to extend an offer of assistance, or to weave her way back into relevance.

But she did nothing.

She didn't seek him out.

She didn't cross that line.

It was as if she had removed him from her life.

That, in itself, wasn't the strangest part.

The strangest part was her eyes.

That moment—when he had spoken of Lucien—Diana's golden eyes had turned cold. Freezing. Dangerous.

He had felt it.

One wrong word, and she might have actually killed him.

Cassian leaned back in his chair, fingers tightening around his pen.

He had never feared Diana before.

Not once.

Even during their worst arguments, even when her words were sharp and unyielding, she had never looked at him like that.

Like he was nothing.

Like she would not hesitate to destroy him if he stood in her way.

And that was unsettling.

Raizel Hinsdale had always been a thorn in his side.

Cassian had disliked the man from the start—his arrogance, his blind devotion to his family, and the way he hovered over Diana like a damn watchdog.

But Diana had chosen him instead of her brother.

She had married him.

After that, she and Raizel had grown distant. They rarely spoke. Cassian never questioned it. As long as Raizel stayed out of his affairs, he didn't care.

But now—

Now, Raizel had returned to her side.

Cassian had seen it himself.

---

It was an ordinary afternoon. He had been taking a quiet stroll through the palace gardens, clearing his mind before returning to his work.

And that was when he saw them.

Diana.

Lucien.

And Raizel Hinsdale.

The three of them sat under a large willow tree, a picnic spread between them.

Diana was laughing.

It wasn't the polite, controlled laugh she used in noble circles.

It wasn't the soft, amused chuckle she gave when Lucien fumbled over his words.

It was a real laugh.

A genuine, warm sound that made something tighten in his chest.

Lucien giggled beside her, his little face bright with joy, his black hair slightly ruffled from the wind.

And Raizel—Raizel was staring at them like he had just been struck by lightning.

Cassian had never seen the man look so dumbfounded before.

For a moment, he considered approaching.

But something stopped him.

Something in that moment felt foreign to him.

Diana had never laughed like that with him anymore.

Not anymore.

Cassian clenched his jaw, turned on his heel, and walked away.

---

He had told himself it was nothing.

It wasn't like he loved Diana.

Their marriage was arranged. A necessity. Nothing more.

Diana had only married him because he was the Emperor. Because he was powerful.

Just like his mother.

Cassian's grip on his pen tightened.

He hated women like that.

Women who saw marriage as a transaction, who sought power and security above all else.

His mother had done the same—marrying his father only because she knew he would one day become Emperor.

She had smiled, played the perfect wife, and behind the scenes, she had done everything in her power to ensure Cassian took the throne.

He had despised it.

That was why, seven years ago, when he met Liliana, it had felt like a fresh start.

Soft, kind, innocent Liliana.

She had no ambitions, no schemes.

She had only ever loved him for who he was.

That was why he chose her.

That was why he stayed by her side.

Liliana had been his escape from a world filled with manipulative nobles and power-hungry wives.

And Diana?

Diana had been a part of that world.

It didn't matter that she had been his childhood friend. It didn't matter that they had once been close.

She was no different from his mother.

And yet—

Cassian exhaled sharply, forcing himself to push away the intrusive thoughts.

Diana didn't matter anymore.

What she did, who she spent her time with—it was no concern of his.

Their relationship was already over.

Lucien, however…

Cassian frowned.

If Diana was growing distant, would she take Lucien with her?

Would she try to push him out of his own son's life?

He had made his choice. Roan was the crown prince candidate. That would not change.

But Lucien was still his son.

Cassian rubbed his temple, annoyed at himself for even thinking about it.

It was nothing.

Diana could laugh with Raizel all she wanted.

She could remove herself from his life if she pleased.

It made no difference.

With that final thought, Cassian turned his attention back to his paperwork.

He had an empire to run.