NOVEL NEXT Chapter 173: Back at Home
The corridors of the Royal Palace of Elysee were hushed, the usual bustle subdued under the weight of recent events. The golden hues of the setting sun filtered through the tall windows, casting elongated shadows on the marble floors. The scent of blooming jasmine from the palace gardens wafted gently through the open windows, a subtle reminder of the world beyond the walls.
In the royal study, Bruno stood alone, his silhouette framed against the vast expanse of maps and documents sprawled across the grand oak table. His uniform, though meticulously maintained, bore the creases of long hours and relentless duty. The soft ticking of the antique clock was the only sound accompanying his thoughts.
A gentle knock interrupted the silence.
"Enter," Bruno called, his voice steady.
The door opened to reveal Queen Amelie, her presence bringing a warmth that the room had long missed. Dressed in a simple yet elegant gown, her eyes held a mixture of concern and affection.
"Bruno," she began softly, "it's late. You've been here since dawn."
He offered a weary smile. "Time has a way of slipping by when the world demands your attention."
Amelie approached, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder. "And yet, even the world must wait for a moment of rest."
Bruno sighed, the weight of leadership evident in his posture. "There's so much to consider. The recent events in the Caldre Strait, the political tensions, the safety of our people..."
She turned him to face her, her gaze unwavering. "And amidst all this, where do you find time for yourself? For us?"
He looked into her eyes, the fortress of his resolve momentarily softened. "I fear that in safeguarding Elysea, I've neglected the very heart of it."
Amelie smiled gently. "Then let us reclaim a moment, just for us."
Royal Gardens — Twilight
The palace gardens, bathed in the soft glow of twilight, offered a sanctuary from the burdens of state. The gentle rustle of leaves and the distant chirping of nightingales provided a soothing backdrop.
Bruno and Amelie strolled along the cobblestone path, their hands intertwined. The world, with all its complexities, seemed a distant echo here.
"Do you remember our first walk here?" Amelie asked, her voice tinged with nostalgia.
Bruno chuckled. "How could I forget? You wore that blue dress, and I was so nervous I nearly tripped over my own feet."
She laughed, the sound melodic. "And yet, you spoke with such conviction about your dreams for Elysea."
He nodded, his expression turning contemplative. "Dreams that now weigh heavily with responsibility."
Amelie paused, turning to face him. "But those dreams were born from love — for your people, for your country, and for me."
Bruno took a deep breath, the cool evening air filling his lungs. "And it's that love that sustains me."
Royal Chambers — Nightfall
The royal chambers exuded a serene ambiance, the soft glow of candlelight casting dancing shadows on the walls. Bruno sat by the fireplace, the warmth offering a stark contrast to the chill of the night. Amelie entered, carrying a tray with two cups of chamomile tea.
"Thought you might need this," she said, handing him a cup.
He accepted it gratefully. "You're always thinking of me."
She sat beside him, sipping her tea. "Because I know the man behind the crown. The one who carries the weight of a nation yet still finds time to comfort a child, to listen to a friend's woes, to love his wife."
Bruno looked into the flames, the flickering light reflecting in his eyes. "There are moments I feel overwhelmed, questioning every decision, fearing the consequences."
Amelie reached out, placing her hand over his. "But you never falter. Your strength lies not in being unyielding but in your compassion, your unwavering commitment."
He turned to her, his gaze intense. "And you are my anchor, the calm in the storm."
They sat in comfortable silence, the world outside momentarily forgotten.
Balcony Overlooking Elysee — Midnight
The city of Elysee stretched out below, its lights twinkling like stars fallen to earth. The cool breeze carried the distant sounds of a city winding down, a lullaby of sorts.
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Bruno and Amelie stood on the balcony, wrapped in a shared embrace.
"Look at them," Bruno murmured. "Each light represents a life, a story, a hope."
Amelie rested her head on his shoulder. "And they all look to you, to us, for guidance."
He nodded slowly. "It's a daunting responsibility."
She looked up at him, her eyes shining. "But one we're honored to bear."
Bruno kissed her forehead gently. "With you by my side, I believe we can weather any storm."
They stood together, the night enveloping them in its quiet embrace, a testament to love enduring amidst the trials of leadership.
The wind whispered faintly as it moved between towers and rooftops, rustling the ivy growing along the old palace stone. The city below flickered with life — lanterns still burning in bakeries preparing for dawn, flickering streetlights swaying above empty cobbled streets, the occasional bark of a dog or rolling carriage breaking the stillness.
Bruno and Amelie remained still on the balcony, not as rulers, not even as husband and wife for a moment — but simply as two people holding tightly to the calm before the storm.
"You've been strong for everyone," Amelie said gently. "It's all right to rest."
Bruno's arm tightened slightly around her waist. "Rest feels like a luxury these days."
"You don't need luxury," she replied. "You need sleep, warmth… me."
He chuckled softly. "Then I have everything I need."
She tilted her head up. "Promise me, when the next crisis comes — and it will — you'll still give yourself moments like this. Moments where you can just… breathe."
Bruno exhaled deeply. "I'll try."
Amelie smiled, then leaned into him again. "Trying is enough. You're allowed to be human, Bruno."
They stood like that for several more minutes — silent, close, warm in the cold. Then Amelie pulled back and took his hand.
"Come," she said. "We're not done yet."
The Royal Music Room — Moments Later
Amelie guided Bruno down the long hallway toward the western wing. A soft creak echoed as she pushed open a tall, double door that revealed a room long-forgotten in their daily routine.
The royal music room.
It had once been Amelie's favorite refuge — polished wood floors, tall arched windows, and an ancient baby grand piano that gleamed under the chandelier's faint glow.
Bruno blinked in surprise. "I haven't stepped foot in here in years."
Amelie crossed the room, lighting a pair of candles above the piano. "Exactly why I brought you."
She lifted the fallboard, revealing ivory keys that had once known her hands well.
"I've heard nothing but war reports and political forecasts from you these past weeks," she said, running her fingers gently across the keys. "Let me hear something else tonight."
Bruno raised a brow. "You're asking me to play?"
"I'm asking you to remember," she said. "This room. That night after our engagement. You played something for me here — something you said reminded you of hope."
Bruno approached slowly, the memory stirring in his chest. "A piece from the old court symphonies. I barely recall the melody."
Amelie sat beside him on the bench. "Then find it. I'll play the left hand."
With hesitant fingers, Bruno placed his right hand on the keys. The first few notes came out clumsy — stilted, unfamiliar. Then, as Amelie joined in, their rhythm aligned. The music began to breathe.
Soft. Measured. Steady.
A lullaby in a world that knew only how to shout.
They played in tandem, no sheet music needed — just memory, just instinct.
The last note lingered longer than expected, their hands still resting on the keys even as the sound faded.
Bruno turned to her.
"I'd forgotten how much I needed this."
"I never did," Amelie said. "But I waited for you to remember."
Royal Bedchamber — Just Before Dawn
The moon was low by the time they finally returned to their private quarters. Bruno sat on the edge of the bed, unbuttoning the last of his collar. His shoulders sagged — not from fatigue alone, but from the slow unwinding of tension after too many sleepless nights.
Amelie slipped under the covers and patted the space beside her. "You don't need to read another briefing. Not tonight."
Bruno gave a wry smile. "Not even the one about the southern rail sabotage?"
"No," she said, stern but affectionate. "Let the world sleep, so you can too."
He joined her in bed, and the warmth between them banished the cold of duty for a while.
They lay facing each other, their fingers interlaced above the covers.
"Do you regret it?" Bruno asked quietly. "Being queen. Being beside me in all of this."
Amelie didn't hesitate. "Never."
"You could've had a quieter life. Somewhere simpler. Far from war, from court, from these walls."
"I would've been far from you," she whispered. "And that's a price I would never pay."
Bruno closed his eyes.
For once, the silence wasn't heavy.
It was peaceful.
Outside the Palace — Dawn
The first light of morning spilled across Elysee like honey, gilding its towers and turrets, reflecting off polished copper domes and waking the city with slow, patient warmth.
The guards changed shifts at the gates, their boots clicking on the stone as bells tolled softly from the cathedral towers. Gardeners began tending the royal hedges, and far off, beyond the palace grounds, the markets stirred with early vendors.
But in the royal bedchamber, Bruno and Amelie remained untouched by the encroaching duties of the day — their sleep deeper than any battlefield silence.
The world could wait.
For one more hour, at least.
Because Elysea was not just protected by fleets and aircraft and doctrine.
It was protected by love.
By two hearts still strong enough to share their burdens.
And as long as those hearts beat in time — no enemy, no fear, no lie could truly break them.