Chapter 45: The Queen Who Was Forgotten

She stood there, unmoving.

Liam's eyes—once wild with warmth, reckless with hope—were now distant, unreadable.

He looked at her like a stranger on the battlefield.

Her throat tightened. Her lips parted.

"Liam… it's me."

He tilted his head. Confused. Curious.But there was no spark.

He nodded politely, as if she were a guard, or an advisor.

"Are you injured?" he asked, tone neutral.

That hurt more than a blade ever could.

The Queen smiled faintly, hiding the tremor in her hands.

"No," she whispered. "You saved me."

And you forgot why.

She had prepared for death.

For betrayal.

Even for the world ending in darkness.

But not this.

Not being erased from his heart.

She had trained her whole life to wear the mask of a monarch, of an assassin, of a goddess.

But now, behind the calm, her soul cracked like a glass castle in a storm.

He gave up everything… even me.

And she couldn't scream.Couldn't cry.Because he was alive.

Because this was his choice.

The realm around them cheered.

Black banners rose to the sky. Fireworks of shadowlight burst like bleeding stars.

The new King stood beneath the floating Blood Crown, head bowed.

But the Queen?

She watched from the edge of the balcony, alone in the celebration.

Her heart throbbed like a ghost organ, still beating for someone who didn't recognize its rhythm.

She clutched her cloak tighter around her, as if the memory of his touch might still be hiding in the folds.

But it was gone.

She was mourning a man who still stood beside her.

Behind her, a whisper stirred.

She turned—And saw him.

The Shadow Heir.

No longer chained.

Eyes gleaming with stolen memories.

"Funny, isn't it?" he murmured. "He gave up everything. But I picked it up."

He stepped from the darkness, smiling.

"And now I remember her… better than he ever did."

The Queen's eyes burned.

A new war had just begun—Not for the throne.Not for power.

But for a heart lost in the shadows.

To Be Continued…