The silence after his words stretched like an endless thread, fragile yet binding me in ways I could not explain. My chest felt tight, as though I had been holding my breath the entire time Ishviq unraveled his past—his father’s death, his oath to the kingdom, Ruhi, the love he had lost, the daughter who never even had a chance to see the world. Every sentence he spoke weighed down on me like stones tied to my heart. And yet, within that heaviness, there was a tenderness, a glimpse of the man who had carried so much grief in silence.

I didn’t realize until then that my fists were clenched in my lap, my nails biting into my palms, or that I had been breathing in shallow gasps, as though afraid that even my breath might break him further. Finally, I exhaled—a long, shaky breath that seemed to release everything I had been holding since the moment he started speaking.