Nashr’s study room was the heart of Talrakia, filled with wooden shelves packed with parchment scrolls and ancient books. However, that morning, amidst the mounting piles of reports and the important decisions waiting for him, the King’s thoughts felt adrift.

  His eyes stared blankly toward the window where the golden sunlight had begun to warm the stone palace.

  Rasyid stood before him holding a parchment with a rigid posture while waiting for instructions. He was used to Nashr’s silence, but this time, something was different. His King was not just quiet but also felt... lighter.

  "Rasyid," Nashr began with a calm voice, though there was a reflective tone he rarely showed. He shifted his gaze from the window to look at his loyal right hand. "Have you ever felt... your perspective on life change?"

  Rasyid blinked and looked at Nashr steadily. "I have always seen the world from the side of tangible results. If a plan works, then it is good. If not, we find another way. My perspective does not change much as long as the logic remains the same."

  Nashr gave a thin smile that was softer than usual. "That is not what I meant. Ever since I found this resonance with Entya," he paused for a moment as if searching for the right words, "I can 'feel', Rasyid. Through that resonance."

  "I feel calmer with her, and I can be my whole self in her presence."

  Rasyid went quiet and listened.

  For years, Nashr had lived his life as the Sun King. He was a spiritual figure who was unmatched on the battlefield. He was the Lion of Talrakia who was respected by his people and feared by his enemies. He had created an invisible distance between himself and ordinary humans. Only Rasyid, who didn't care much about his spiritual power, was able to speak normally with Nashr. He eventually became his right hand.

  Then, there was Entya.

  In a world where everyone was a fragile human, Entya was the only being who spoke the same language as Nashr. They were connected and could feel each other’s waves of emotion.

  All the strategies and deceptions Nashr had planned evaporated on their own. For the first time, he acted not with his brain but was guided by his heart. With the little nomad, he wanted to share his world and see her grow and thrive. He now knew how it felt to live through the day with peace, with someone who might understand him more than anyone else.

  Rasyid had been Nashr’s right hand for a long time. He knew very well that his King was never emotionally available to anyone, including himself. He could understand this difference. He had witnessed with his own eyes how Entya, the nomad girl, had slowly chipped away at the fortress that had unconsciously formed around Nashr's heart.

  "I have noticed, Your Majesty," Rasyid replied with a slightly slower tone while observing Nashr’s pensive expression. "The palace staff are now more wary of your sudden mood swings," Rasyid continued with a flat tone though a bit of sarcasm was tucked inside. "They say it is more unpredictable than the absolute decrees of the dominant King they once knew. Some even speculate that your aura is now more... human."

  Nashr chuckled softly as a low and warm laugh echoed in the room. "That girl... she does it without trying, does she not?"

  Rasyid did not comment directly on that. He only observed Nashr for a moment and then, with a tone that almost sounded like sympathy, an emotion which very rare for Rasyid, he added, "Is that not a good thing, Your Majesty?"

  Nashr closed his eyes for a moment while enjoying the new feeling arising in his chest. "Perhaps," he murmured with a thin smile on his lips. "Perhaps it is." He opened his eyes again and his gaze was sharp once more, yet with a flicker of warmth that had never been there before. "Very well, Rasyid. Let us continue. Show me the report regarding the building restoration after the earthquake."

  The King’s authority returned, but the heart beneath it was a little more open than before.

  This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

  The warm desert air caressed Entya’s face. In Talrakia, she had found an unexpected freedom. She could ride horses as she pleased. She still rode the black horse from the steppes, but she found it interesting to see the horses in this stone land. Though slimmer than the steppe horses, they were able to run through the desert wind with amazing speed.

  Nashr often accompanied her riding in peaceful silence. Entya was the only person who dared to call the King only by his name, a privilege Nashr met with a look of pure amusement.

  In contrast to the first impression at their meeting in Salkha village, and the King’s relationship with the palace staff, Nashr looked relaxed and friendly when he was with Entya.

  Their interaction felt like it flowed easily. Nashr never made an issue of Entya’s nomad spirit. This made Entya feel as if she was not with a king. It felt like being with someone familiar whom she had known for a long time. Or perhaps this familiar feeling was the emotion the man felt toward her.

  Their comfort made Entya hesitate. The question that had been dwelling in her mind felt too heavy to hold back. She slowed her horse to be level with Nashr.

  "Nashr," Entya called with a slightly hesitant voice. "Why do you pay so much attention to me?"

  Nashr loosened his grip on the reins and the speed of his horse slowed. "No special reason." He turned and his amethyst eyes looked straight into Entya’s confused larimar eyes. "I just want to."

  Entya was silent for a moment and then let out a long sigh while staring at the stretch of sand in front of them.

  "I am not that innocent, Nashr," Entya murmured with a voice that was now more mature than usual. "I came to Talrakia with full awareness that this is a political marriage. I was prepared to live behind cold palace walls and be merely a symbol or an obedient display."

  She took a deep breath while feeling the desert air. "I never expected to get all of this. Your attention, the freedom you give in the palace, and the purpose that makes me feel alive. I never imagined I could ride freely beside you like this as if I were not a prisoner of a political obligation."

  Entya turned to Nashr as her eyes searched for answers behind the King’s calm face. "You make me forget that I am here because of a diplomatic promise. And that sometimes makes me... afraid."

  Nashr did not interrupt. He let the desert silence envelop them for a moment to give Entya space to untangle the mess in her mind. That silence instead pushed Entya to speak more honestly than she had ever imagined.

  "I am afraid because I am used to living with my limitations," Entya continued with a voice that was almost a whisper. She stared at her hands gripping the reins with knuckles turning white.

  "Since long ago, this small body of mine has made me invisible. I was often considered as someone who must be protected, or even worse, considered a burden. I always had to fight harder to be recognized."

  She sighed with a mournful voice. "It feels like I must always prove myself. That I am useful, that I am worthy to stay... So when you give me all this freedom and attention without me having to ask for it, I feel unprepared."

  Nashr did not answer with words. As if making a decision, he pulled the reins until the horse stopped completely. He dismounted with a nimble movement and walked toward Entya with his amethyst eyes never leaving her.

  "Why should you feel like that, Entya?" His voice was deep yet contained a softness.

  Before Entya could answer, Nashr was already beside her horse. With one quick movement, he lifted Entya’s small body from the saddle and carried her in his arms as if she weighed nothing. Entya gasped while startled by that unexpected touch. Her instincts took over and her hands reflexively hugged Nashr’s neck for support. She could feel Nashr’s strong and steady heartbeat against her chest and the calming scent of agarwood.

  Nashr looked at her intently with a gaze that was direct and full of pride. "Look at yourself."

  Every word spoken by the King was an acknowledgment that pierced deep into Entya’s heart. "I do not know what others think when they see you. But what I know for sure is they do not see what I see." He pressed his lips together as if holding something back and then continued. "They do not feel our resonance or feel the great life force radiating from you like I did when I first met you."

  Nashr turned toward the palace looming in the distance and pointed to the greenhouse that was now a green paradise in the middle of the desert. "Do you see that? You brought life to this place and you made a barren oasis green. You are the jewel of Talrakia."

  Nashr’s gaze returned to her. "This small body," Nashr continued while holding Entya’s tiny hand, "cannot hide your limitless potential." He smiled with a sincere smile that made the corners of his eyes crinkle. His thumb gently stroked Entya’s cheek. "And the fact is, you are adorable. That is a very pleasant bonus."

  Entya could only listen. Every word from Nashr’s lips and every gentle touch sent waves of an unfamiliar warmth spreading through her chest. It was medicine for the invisible wounds she had carried her whole life.

  Nashr’s words of praise and sincere acknowledgment made her eyes well up. A single tear fell from her right eye and wet her cheek.

  Nashr just watched her with a gaze full of understanding and without judgment. He let Entya process her feelings. "Your life has been quite heavy, has it not, little nomad?" he whispered with a soft voice as if he could read every burden Entya carried.

  That soft question broke her last defense. Entya lowered her face while hiding her muffled sobs in the crook of Nashr’s neck. She cried. It's not because she was sad, but because of a tremendous relief. For the first time, she felt fully seen. She was accepted completely.

  For the first time, Entya was grateful she had left her village.

  For the first time, she was grateful Nashr had found her.