#7th loop

She made her way through the quiet corridors and entered Arnold’s office without knocking. The fire was low. Papers were scattered across his desk. And Arnold, of course, was still working—shoulders tense, brow furrowed, too lost in duty to notice the weight in his own body.

Rishe said nothing at first. She simply walked in and sat across from him, folding her hands on the desk and staring.

Arnold stopped writing after a moment, glancing up at her with an exhausted frown. “What is it?”

“Did you sleep last night?”

His silence was all the answer she needed.

She stood, rounded the desk without a word, and gently took his hand. He resisted slightly, surprised—but the warmth in her touch undid him. Without pushing, she tugged him up and led him to the long velvet couch tucked in the corner of the room.

“Rishe, I have things—”

“No.” Her voice was soft, but it brooked no argument.

She sat, pulled him down with her, and arranged them together—his back against the cushions, her arm winding around his waist. He hesitated a moment longer, then gave in, one hand coming to rest on her back, the other brushing through her hair.

They lay like that in silence. Her head rested against his chest, rising and falling with each slow breath he took. And for the first time all day… he began to relax.

Rishe fought sleep. Her body was warm and heavy, but she stayed awake, holding him close, silently willing him to drift off.

“You’re fighting it,” he murmured against her temple.

“I want you to sleep first,” she whispered, fighting the pull of dreams.

Arnold turned toward her slightly, their legs intertwining beneath the throw blanket she’d pulled over them. “You always take care of me.”

She gave a tired smile. “Someone has to.”

He exhaled a soft laugh, brushing his lips against her hair. “Sleep, Rishe. I’ll be right here.”

“You promise?”

“I swear it.”

With that, her body gave in. Her breathing slowed. She melted against him, and soon after, Arnold let himself follow her into sleep.

Hours passed.

In the quiet dark of the office, the two lovers shifted gently in their rest. Rishe was no longer tucked beneath his chin—her body had turned toward him. Face to face now, legs tangled, hands resting in the space between them. Their foreheads were nearly touching. Their noses grazed every so often with each quiet breath.

Then—without waking—Rishe moved ever so slightly forward, her lips brushing his in a ghost of a kiss.

It was soft. Barely there. But it lit something inside him.

Arnold’s eyes blinked open slowly. He froze, unsure if it had been a dream. But the warmth still lingered. And in the hazy shadows of the room, he saw her—peaceful, barely breathing, still so close.

She stirred, then blinked sleepily at his expression. “…What is it?”

“You kissed me,” he said, voice low and touched with wonder.

Rishe blinked again, confused, then slowly flushed deep red as she registered what he meant. “I did…? I didn’t mean to—I was asleep, I don’t remember—!”

She buried her face in his chest, utterly mortified.

Arnold chuckled, wrapping both arms around her and pressing a kiss into her hair. “It was nice,” he whispered. “You can do it as many times as you like.”

Her heart thudded loudly in her chest. She peeked up at him, eyes wide and unsure.

Their gazes locked—quiet and intense. Neither of them moved for a long moment.

Then, with courage blooming in her chest, Rishe closed the distance. This kiss was not accidental. This one was slow, warm, and lingering—lips brushing over his with the certainty of someone who loved and was loved in return.

When they finally parted, Arnold stayed close, his forehead resting against hers.

“Stay,” he whispered.

Rishe couldn't help but wonder what was going on in his mind. She had always known that Arnold had a destiny—one that was intertwined with the fate of his kingdom, his family, and even the world itself. But there was something about tonight, something in the way he seemed so distant, that made her want to reach him more than ever before.

“Arnold,” she whispered softly, her voice almost trembling as she broke the quiet. It was more than a question—it was a plea. “Can I always stay by your side? Even when the world changes... even when everything becomes uncertain?” Her heart fluttered nervously. She knew she was asking for something big, something that was more than just a promise. She was asking him for her place in the future, a place she feared might not be as secure as she hoped.

She took a deep breath before continuing, the weight of her next words pressing heavily on her chest. “I have a feeling... A feeling what’s coming, what you’re going to do. But even then, I want to be with you. I want to stand by your side.”

The silence that followed her words felt suffocating. She watched his face closely, waiting for him to react, to offer her the reassurance she desperately needed. But Arnold didn’t answer right away. He kept his eyes on the ceiling, his jaw tense, as if the very thought of her question had caught him off guard.

Rishe’s breath hitched in her chest. The uncertainty in his silence gnawed at her. Could he not promise her that? Was he too burdened by the weight of his own future to even consider her words? She tried to calm her racing heart, but her doubts crept in, piercing through the quiet like sharp needles.

She reached out, her fingers trembling as they brushed against his cheek. The touch was soft, almost tentative, as if she were testing the waters, unsure of the depth of his feelings. She stared into his eyes, the depth of emotion in hers clear, but she knew that his gaze held something more complicated—something he wasn’t ready to share.

“If you ever think of doing something... drastic, Arnold, something that could change everything... something that might bring destruction to the world, promise me that you’ll let me be by your side. I would stand with you, no matter the consequences. No matter what happens.”

There was a long pause, a stillness that seemed to stretch out forever. Arnold’s face went from shock to unreadable, his eyes scanning her expression for a long moment. He didn’t look away, but his silence only deepened the weight of the moment. For a brief moment, Rishe’s heart skipped a beat, wondering if he would deny her request, if he would shut her out from the truth he kept so carefully hidden.

Then, slowly, his expression softened. His features shifted, just a little, as if the weight of her words had finally broken through the walls he had built. He leaned forward then, closing the distance between them with a tenderness that almost took Rishe by surprise. His lips brushed against hers in a soft, lingering kiss—gentle, but full of meaning.

“I wouldn’t want it any other way,” he whispered, his voice a low murmur against her lips. “Rishe... I want you by my side. Always. Whatever happens. I... I can’t imagine doing things without you anymore.”

His words, though quiet, resonated deep within her. She felt the sincerity in them, the warmth that spread through her chest as she finally exhaled, releasing the tension she hadn’t even realized she was holding. In that moment, the future didn’t feel so heavy. The uncertainty that had been clouding her mind seemed to dissipate, replaced with a sense of peace—of understanding.

The future was still uncertain. She knew that. But in Arnold’s arms, with the soft glow of candlelight illuminating his features, the world outside no longer mattered. She had his promise—his quiet, unwavering promise. And that was all she needed, for now.

“I’ll always be here,” she whispered back, her fingers tracing the line of his jaw as she gazed into his eyes. “No matter what comes... I’ll always stand with you.”

“He really tried to convince you he was a duke?” Arnold asked, amused, brow raised.

Rishe rolled her eyes and laughed softly. “With a feathered hat and wine-stained gloves. Very convincing.”

Arnold smirked. “You attract all kinds.”

“Don’t remind me.”

The laughter died down, and quiet settled again—this time thicker, more intimate. Their gazes lingered a bit longer, breathing syncing slowly in the space between them. The mood shifted, unspoken but undeniable.

Rishe’s smile faded into something softer. Her eyes searched his, a quiet vulnerability surfacing.

“There’s something I want to tell you,” she murmured.

Arnold didn’t blink. “Tell me.”

She hesitated, then let out a slow breath. “My ex-fiancé… Diedrich.”

His jaw shifted slightly, but he said nothing.

“I never loved him. I didn’t even mind when he ended the engagement. It felt like... freedom. But it was how he did it that stayed with me. Humiliation in front of the entire court, like he needed to make a spectacle of it. I wasn’t ashamed to be cast aside—I was ashamed I hadn’t seen it coming.”

She paused. “I thought that was it. That I’d just live quietly on my own after that. And then—”

A ghost of a smile curved her lips.

“Then you showed up. Without a ring. No grand speech. Just that look in your eyes and the ridiculous confidence to kneel before me and ask if I’d marry you.”

Arnold’s mouth tugged up into a crooked smile. “You said no.”

She chuckled. “Yes. But even then, I already knew you weren’t going to take that answer.”

“I wasn’t,” he said, gently brushing his fingers against her cheek.

She leaned in, their noses almost brushing now. “And now, I finally understand what this feeling is I've been struggling with the past months with you.”

Her breath trembled as it left her. “I’m in love with you, Arnold.”

He didn’t speak. He just looked at her—as if seeing every version of her, every wall she’d ever built and every crack where the light now slipped through. Then slowly, he closed the space between them.

The kiss deepened naturally, as though neither of them had planned for it but both had been waiting for it far longer than they’d admit. Arnold’s hand slid from her cheek to the curve of her waist, pulling her closer until there was no more space left between them. Rishe shifted, her thigh slipping between his legs as his hand traced the line of her back.

There was a softness in every movement—his fingers in her hair, her lips brushing the corner of his mouth as they briefly broke apart for air. She smiled at the closeness, the safety, the heat.

His lips returned to hers, slower this time, like he wanted to memorize the shape of her mouth. Rishe sighed against him, her hand gripping the back of his neck, her body molding into his with complete trust.

They rolled gently, the sheets wrapping around them as Arnold hovered above her, his forehead resting on hers. “Are you sure?” he whispered, his voice rough with restraint.

Rishe answered not with words, but with the way her hands slid down his back, pulling him closer, grounding him. “Yes,” she breathed.

Every touch was careful, reverent—like he couldn’t believe she was real. Her gown loosened further beneath his fingertips, and she arched into him with a quiet gasp, her mouth brushing against his shoulder.

They moved together slowly, as if time had slowed just for them. No grand declarations, just sighs and soft moans, the kind that spoke of months of tension, of trust, of two hearts finally aligned.

When it was over, they didn’t move apart.

Arnold remained close, his nose brushing her temple, one arm beneath her head, the other holding her waist. Rishe, her cheek pressed to his chest, could hear the rhythm of his heartbeat—slow, steady, grounding.

She lifted her head just enough to look at him. His eyes were already on her.

Then, his voice, low and warm near her ear: “I already told you I’ve fallen for you."

Her lips curled into a sleepy smile as she let her head fall back to his chest. “I know,” she whispered.

He pressed a kiss into her hair. “Still true.”

Rishe nestled closer, their legs tangled, the weight of him both grounding and comforting. The heat of their bodies lingered under the sheets. Their fingers entwined lazily at her waist, no need for more words.