Forbidden Desires: Conquering Kingdoms And Women In a Fantasy World!

She didn't slow as she approached, launching herself at me with complete trust that I would catch her. I opened my arms just in time, staggering slightly under the impact as she collided with me and immediately wrapped her arms around my neck in a desperate embrace.

"I thought... I thought you were going to leave without saying goodbye," she sobbed into my shoulder, her tears soaking through my coat. "I thought…you were angry…"

"You are the one who ignored me and ran away," I said laughing as I held her steady in my arms.

"I... I was scared," she said, her voice small and broken. "I didn't know what to do with all these feelings, with the thought of you leaving. I thought maybe if I didn't say goodbye, it wouldn't be real…"

"I will never be angry with you, Zoey. Not for being scared, not for running away, not for anything."

I was acutely aware of the pointed stares I was receiving—Rosaluna's gaze had turned decidedly frosty, while Lisa and Riley watched with hard expressions. But in this moment, none of that mattered as much as the girl crying in my arms.

"I... I don't want you to go," Zoey whispered looking up at me with teary eyes.

I took a deep breath, choosing my words carefully. "I will try to come back whenever I can, but meanwhile, you need to stay strong. Help Lisa and your brother. And one day, if you truly wish to be by my side..." I paused, meeting her hopeful gaze. "I will accept you and come for you."

"I want to be with you," she said immediately, the words tumbling out with desperate sincerity.

I appreciated her feelings more than she could know, but the reality of our situation was more complex than her young heart could fully grasp. "I'm going to a dangerous city, Zoey. You'll need to become strong to reach me there—stronger than you are now. Do you understand?"

Her eyes shone with sudden determination, tears still clinging to her lashes but her spine straightening with newfound purpose. "Okay... I will. I'll become strong enough."

I smiled and gently released her before Rosaluna's patience could reach its breaking point.

The rhythmic thunder of hoofbeats suddenly filled the air, growing louder as they approached our small gathering. We all turned toward the sound.

"Looks like she's here," I said.

The carriage that rolled into view was impressive—medium-sized but clearly well-crafted, with polished wood panels and brass fittings that spoke of quality and expense. The horses pulling it were magnificent creatures, their coats gleaming with health and their movements precise and controlled. This was transportation fit for nobility, not the humble village life I was accustomed to.

When the wheels finally came to a stop, Isadora stepped out with the fluid grace of someone born to elegance, her traveling clothes somehow managing to look both practical and refined. She was wearing her mask unfortunately.

"Master Isadora," Rosaluna muttered under her breath.

"I see that you are ready, Harold," Isadora said. There was approval in her expression as she took in my travel attire and packed belongings. "We should leave immediately. The road to the capital is long, and we have much to discuss along the way.Have you said your farewells?"

"I have," I replied.

Isadora gestured toward the open carriage door with elegant efficiency. "Then we should not delay any longer."

I nodded, understanding that the moment had truly arrived. But before I could take a step toward the carriage, Lisa moved forward with sudden determination.

She wrapped her arms around me in a fierce embrace, holding me close enough that I could feel her trembling slightly with suppressed emotion. "I love you," she whispered into my ear.

I wanted to return the sentiment—she deserved to hear it, deserved to know how much she meant to me. But I was painfully aware of Rosaluna watching us with eyes that had turned to chips of ice, especially after catching Lisa's whispered words. Starting a confrontation now, moments before my departure, would only make everything harder for everyone involved.

Instead, I held Lisa a moment longer and spoke quietly into her hair. "I will wait for you," I told her, reminding her of our exchanges and our time.

She pulled back with a smile nodding understanding exactly what I couldn't say aloud.

Then Rosaluna stepped forward, and I could see the effort it took for her to control her emotions—the jealousy, the possessiveness, the fear of losing me that she couldn't quite hide despite her best efforts.

"Big sister," I said, spreading my arms wide in invitation.

She fell into my embrace, holding me tight enough that I could feel her heartbeat against my chest.

"I will speak to mother," she said.

"I know you will, but be gentle with her, alright?" I replied. "She's hurting in ways we might not fully understand."

Rosaluna nodded against my chest. "And you had better not do anything strange in the capital," she said, pulling back enough to look at me with an expression that was part warning, part plea.

"I won't," I laughed.

With our farewell complete, I turned to give Riley and Zoey final nods of acknowledgment. Riley tried to look stoic, but I could see the way his hands clenched at his sides. Zoey managed a watery smile and a small wave, her earlier breakdown having left her looking emotionally drained but somehow more at peace.

I was turning toward the carriage, steeling myself for the final step of this departure, when a voice called out behind me.

"Harold!"

I spun around, my eyes widening a bit. There, standing at the edge of our gathering, was Isabella. She was breathing hard as if she'd run the entire way from the house, her usually immaculate appearance disheveled in a way that spoke of haste and emotional turmoil.

She wore a simple tunic gown that looked hastily thrown on, her white hair escaping from its usual neat arrangement to frame her face in gentle waves. But it was her expression that caught me—raw, vulnerable, and filled with a pain that seemed to encompass far more than just my departure.

She approached slowly, as if each step required tremendous effort, and when she finally stood before me, I could see that she'd been crying.

"Mom," I said softly.

I really thought she wouldn't come.

Without warning, Isabella pulled me into her arms with fierce intensity, holding me as if she could somehow keep me safe through the strength of her embrace alone. "I am so sorry, my boy," she whispered, her voice thick with tears and regret.

"No, I'm the one who should apologize," I replied, wrapping my arms around her.

"No," Isabella shook her head emphatically against my shoulder. "It's my fault. Everything that's happened, everything that's gone wrong—it's all my fault."

"Nothing is your fault," I said firmly, pulling back enough to look her in the eyes. "You raised Rosaluna and me with overwhelming love and devotion. You gave us everything you had to give, and you should never, ever blame yourself for that."

My words seemed to break something inside her, and she began crying in earnest—not the quiet tears of earlier, but deep, wrenching sobs that seemed to carry years of suppressed pain and guilt.

"I am so proud of you, Harold," she managed between her tears. "So incredibly proud of the man you've become."

And you will be even more proud soon enough…

"Thank you, mom," I said, putting emotions in my words. "I was terrified that you would hate me for... for what I'd done. For the choices I'd made."

Isabella shook her head vigorously, reaching up to cup my face in her hands. "I could never hate you. Never. You are my precious boy, and nothing you could ever do would change that."

"I just wanted to help," I said, the words spilling out in a rush. "I love you both so much, and when I saw you suffering, when I saw how the nightmares were tearing you apart... I had to do something. I love you, and that's why I—"

"I know," she interrupted gently. "I know, my darling boy. I'm not angry at you—I never was, not really. And I love you too, more than you could possibly understand."

She pulled back slightly to look at me properly, stroking my hair with the same gentle touch I remembered from childhood. Her eyes were still bright with tears, but now there was a smile on her lips—sad but genuine, filled with a love so profound it took my breath away.

She was truly breathtaking.

If I had met her on Earth…I might have been maybe different…

The others watching us looked confused, unable to fully understand the subtext of our conversation. But Rosaluna knew, and I could see the relief flooding her features as she realized that whatever rift had opened between Isabella and me was finally beginning to heal. It didn't solve everything—Isabella would likely still struggle with our nighttime arrangement—but it was a beginning.

Isabella turned then to address Isadora, and I watched as she straightened her shoulders and composed herself with visible effort. "Please take care of my son."

"Do not worry," Isadora replied. "Your son is destined for greatness."

Instead of the pride I might have expected, Isabella's expression grew troubled, almost fearful. "I…I see…."

"Harold," Isadora called me.

The moment had arrived. There would be no more delays, no more postponements.

I looked around one final time at their faces.

Can't believe I grew close to so many people in my new life.

I smiled a bit and went inside the carriage.

My new life was calling.

And along the beginning of my ascension in this fantasy world.