In a daze, Albert found his way to the bathroom. He needed to escape, to find some small moment of peace, but it felt impossible. The water ran hot, the steam filling the room, but it couldn’t wash away the ache that had settled deep within him.

  He sank into the tub, the hot water a temporary balm to his tired body, but not his soul. His eyes closed, and for a brief moment, he could almost pretend that everything was normal again. He could pretend that Leila was still there, in his life, in his arms.

  But then he saw her.

  Her grey eyes, soft with sadness, flickering before him. The memories hit him all at once—her laughter, her smile, the way she had danced with him as if the whole world had stopped around them. He saw her face, clear as day, and it felt as though his chest had been ripped open, the pain spreading through him in waves.

  His breath hitched. “Leila…” he whispered, his voice barely a breath.

  His heart clenched at the thought of her. He opened his eyes suddenly, his gaze frantic, searching for her in the misty air, but there was no sign of her. She was gone. The water sloshed around him as he sank further into the tub, his chest tightening, his breath coming quicker as the reality of the situation crashed over him.

  “Leila…” he murmured again, this time more broken, as if calling her name could somehow bring her back to him. But there was nothing—just the empty space in his heart that she had once filled.

  The water around him felt cold now, no longer a comfort, but a reminder of the distance between them. The world outside, the future his father expected him to face, felt meaningless without her. Without Leila, nothing mattered. The nobility, the title, the wealth—it was all irrelevant. She had been the one thing he had ever truly wanted, and now that was gone too.

  His hand, trembling, reached up to wipe away the tear that had escaped, and in that moment, Albert knew—he had lost.

  Days passed in a haze of internal turmoil for Albert. He fought with himself—not with his father, but with the darker parts of his soul that he could no longer ignore. Drinking, crying, and retreating into isolation had become his routine, but a small part of him still yearned to escape. He felt like a shipwrecked soul in a storm, tossed by the waves of his emotions, but eventually, as if by magic, he found himself standing on solid ground again.

  Albert had spent a week drowning in his sorrow, but now, he moved with purpose. He started taking charge of the meetings—leading them with authority, as though he were already the leader of the house. His father’s presence felt distant, and Albert found himself working late into the nights, his mind occupied with politics, decisions, and strategies. But outside of his daily responsibilities, there was one place he would go to—a place where he could find a bit of peace amidst the chaos: his favorite spot, overlooking the sunset.

  It was there, on the edge of the cliff, with the golden glow of the setting sun casting a warm light on his face, that Albert sat alone. No carriage, no bustling servants—just him and the horizon. He breathed deeply, savoring the silence that surrounded him. His thoughts drifted as he gazed at the distant land below, but that peace was soon interrupted.

  A figure approached.

  Albert inhaled, his heart skipping a beat. He knew who it was before she even spoke.

  “I knew you would come,” he breathed out, his voice barely above a whisper as he turned to face her.

  "Leila..." Her name slipped from his lips as if it was the air he had been desperate to breathe. She stood before him, her grey eyes shining in the fading sunlight. The way the light danced on her features, the curve of her lips—it all felt surreal, like a dream he had never truly woken from.

  This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

  Albert, caught in the moment, instinctively stepped forward, his hand reaching out toward hers to kiss it, but she pulled back slightly.

  "No… don’t," Leila said softly, her voice filled with hesitation. "I just got engaged… It doesn’t feel right."

  Albert froze, his hand lingering in the air. The words hit him harder than he expected. Engaged? A knot formed in his chest, but he quickly swallowed his pain. He lowered his hand, his fingers now resting on the back of his neck as he nodded in understanding. He tried to push the sting away, tried to move past it.

  "Okay, okay," Albert murmured, managing a small smile, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. "Come, let’s sit."

  They moved to the edge of the cliff, sitting side by side, the sound of the wind rustling through the trees, the rhythmic crashing of the waves below. The silence between them was comfortable yet heavy, like the weight of everything unsaid between them. Albert shifted uncomfortably, his thoughts swirling, and he finally broke the silence.

  "So... how’s your fiancé?" he asked, his voice low, almost distant.

  Leila smiled a little, a playful gleam in her grey eyes. "He’s nice. And bulky," she said, mimicking a macho pose that made Albert laugh. He couldn’t help it—her lightheartedness made him feel a little better, if only for a moment.

  Albert’s smile faded as he turned his gaze back to the horizon. "Does he treat you well?" he asked, his voice laced with a quiet concern.

  Leila nodded slowly. "Well, so far, yes."

  Albert’s chest tightened at her words, but he pushed the feeling aside. He exhaled, forcing a nonchalant tone, though his heart felt like it was about to break open. "I... I’m planning to accept Emilia’s proposal," he said, his voice heavy. He paused, looking down at his hands in his lap. "I know it sounds bad, but that’s the only choice I have left."

  Leila’s gaze softened, her eyes searching his face with a quiet understanding. "So why did you call me here?" she asked, her voice barely a whisper, as if afraid of hearing the answer.

  Albert looked at her then, and his heart ached with the depth of the emotion in his chest. "I wanted to spend some time with you," he said, his voice filled with vulnerability. "In these two weeks—well, 11 days now—before we go our separate ways. Is that okay with you?"

  Leila met his gaze, her grey eyes shining with a mix of sadness and affection. The look she gave him was the same one she had once shown him, full of warmth and tenderness.

  "Yeah…" she breathed out, her voice soft, like the wind that swept through the trees.

  And so, they spent the afternoon together, talking about everything and nothing at all. They shared stories, exchanged laughs, and even sat in comfortable silence, just enjoying each other’s company. Time seemed to slip away unnoticed, like the setting sun that gradually disappeared behind the mountains. Albert looked at Leila, at her lips, at the curve of her smile, and for a moment, he allowed himself to imagine a life where they could be together, where things hadn’t gone so wrong.

  But as the evening settled in, the time to part came. Albert stood, reluctant to leave, but knowing this moment was all he could have. His heart ached as he watched Leila walk away, her back turned to him, the distance growing between them.

  He felt the familiar sting of tears but refused to let them fall. He couldn’t break now. He had to remain strong.

  When he returned to his room that night, he sat at his desk, his journal in front of him. His hand hovered over the pages as he reflected on the day—the bittersweet memory of being with Leila, the joy and pain interwoven in each moment.

  Journal Entry:

  "Today, I spent the afternoon with her. Leila. Her eyes, her lips, her smile—they still haunt me, even now as I write this. She’s engaged, and I’m left to pick up the pieces of what was never mine to have. How foolish I was to think I could change my fate, to believe that I could ever have her. I want to scream, to cry, but I will not. There is no point in drowning in what is already lost.

  She deserves happiness, and I—well, I must accept that my path lies elsewhere. My father’s demands, the proposal from Emilia—these are the things I must focus on. But even now, as I sit here in the silence, I can’t forget her. I can’t forget what could have been.

  We only have 11 days left before our paths diverge completely. And I’ll never forget today, sitting by the edge of the world with her. I won’t forget the way she looked at me, the way her hand rested in mine, even if only for a moment.

  Maybe in another life, things would have been different. But not this one. Not this time.

  He closed the journal, his hands trembling, the weight of the words pressing down on his chest. The room was silent, but Albert felt the aching emptiness settle in once more.

  Goodbye, Leila."