You Stay for the Greater Good

You sit on the bench for what feels like hours, the garden’s tranquility at odds with the storm raging in your mind. Options whirl and collide, each path you consider fraught with peril or regret. The scent of blooming flowers and the soft rustle of leaves in the breeze offer little comfort as you wrestle with the enormity of the decision before you. The weight of responsibility presses down on your chest, making it hard to breathe.

Finally, with a resigned sigh, you rise and make your way back inside the castle. The halls are quiet, the weight of your decision heavy with every step toward Katarina’s quarters. The stone walls seem to close in around you, their cold, unyielding surfaces a stark reminder of the stakes at hand.

When you enter her room, the muscular knight is seated on the edge of her bed, sharpening a dagger with slow, deliberate strokes. The rhythmic scrape of metal against whetstone fills the air, a sound both methodical and menacing. Her dark eyes lift to meet yours, and for a moment, the room feels charged with unspoken tension.

“I spoke with Mariana,” you say, the words heavy as they leave your lips. “She told me what the two of you have planned.”

Katarina sets the blade aside and straightens, her movements deliberate and unhurried. “And?”

“I’ll do it,” you say firmly, though your voice falters slightly. “I’ll do it because I don’t see an alternative. If I go back to Viola, there’ll be more **** between the houses, and I’ll be putting Anora at risk. At least as Persephone’s husband, I’ll have some chance to keep everyone from killing each other.”

Katarina nods, her expression unreadable. “A wise decision,” she says quietly. Then, with a sigh, her eyes drift downward to the conspicuous bulge between your legs.

“You have no idea how hard it was for me to give you up,” she admits, stepping closer. Her voice softens, carrying an edge of longing. “Were I a lesser woman, I would have put my own desires above the needs of the queendom.”

She reaches out, hesitates, then withdraws her hand. Her gaze hardens, and she takes a measured breath. “You should be aware,” she begins, her tone turning matter-of-fact, “that your seed has likely taken root in both Viola and her sister.”

“What?” you stammer, caught entirely off guard.

“My guards have told me that Anora has missed her flow this month,” Katarina explains, her voice calm but laced with gravity. “She likely took… precautions… after the ball, but such methods are not foolproof.”

You open your mouth, but she continues before you can speak. “As for Viola, my informants in her camp have reported bouts of uncontrolled nausea—common in the early stages of pregnancy. While nothing is definitive yet, the timing makes it a strong possibility.”

The room feels suddenly smaller, the weight of her words pressing down on you. “How does this impact your plans?” you ask shakily.

“If either Viola or Anora carries your child, it could serve as a bridge between Houses Alecton and Valancia,” Katarina says, her tone as cold and pragmatic as ever. “While House Alecton does not recognize bastards as heirs, House Valancia has no such restrictions.”

“I thought you hated House Valancia,” you blurt out, still reeling.

“I do,” Katarina replies, her lips curling into a grimace. “But this feud cannot continue. Persephone will be queen, and I love her too dearly to see her reign marred by endless conflict. A blood alliance between the heirs of Alecton and Valancia will ensure peace—however tenuous—for the queendom.”

You’re about to ask another question when a sharp knock at the door interrupts.

With a sigh, Katarina rises and strides across the room. She swings open the door to reveal Mariana, her expression as coy and mischievous as ever.

“I hope I’m not interrupting anything,” Mariana says with a playful smirk, her gaze flickering between the two of you.

“Unfortunately, not,” Katarina grunts, crossing her arms. “Did you want to give him a go?”

Mariana’s eyes sweep over you, lingering a moment too long. Her lips quirk in a half-smile. “More than anything,” she mutters under her breath. Then, clearing her throat, she adds, “But there’s far too much to do, and we have so little time.”

Katarina shakes her head and begins pulling on her armor. The tension between the two women is palpable, but neither acknowledges it as they prepare to leave.

Before stepping through the door, Mariana turns back to you. Her tone is deceptively casual, but there’s steel beneath her words. “Oh, one last thing, male. Custom dictates that for the next week, you must abstain from intercourse or… any form of self-gratification. Your virility is without question, but for the sake of appearances, I expect you to exercise restraint.”

Her eyes sparkle with amusement as she adds, “I trust you can manage that?”

With that, the two women leave, the door shutting firmly behind them.

For the first time in days, you’re alone. The quiet is both a relief and a curse, as the weight of your decision—and the expectations that come with it—settles over you like a storm cloud.