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The weight of the Sanbreque crown felt like a physical burden on Terence’s head. Two years. Two years since Ultima had consumed the man he loved, the man who he was supposed to share this life with. Two years of being forced to rule alone, the laughter and light of his love had extinguished, replaced by the cold, hard flame of duty.
Terence stared at the papers spread across the desk, he looked exhausted, his face held lines that spoke of sleepless nights and unwanted decisions. He missed Dion. He missed his warmth, his strength, the quiet understanding that had flown between them.
A sharp knock echoed through the chamber, startling him. "Enter," he rasped, his voice cracking from his lack of words recently.
The Captain of the Guard, a stern-faced male named Samual, entered. "Your Majesty…" he said, his voice laced with a strange sense of confusion and disbelief. "There is… someone at the gate. He claims to be…" Samual hesitated, glancing at the floor, not wanting to hurt his brother. "He claims to be Prince Dion."
Terence rose so quick that his chair scratched loudly across the floor. His heart pounded against his chest, like a bird trapped in a cage. "Impossible," he whispered, the word barely escaping his lips. "Dion is dead."
Samual shook his head, his own expression grim. "I understand, Your Majesty. But… the Captain of the Gate insists. He says he wares his armour, carries his halberd, even… even his earrings you had specially made for him."
Terence’s breath hitched, could this really be his Dion?
"Bring him to me," he commanded, his voice regaining its authority, though his hands trembled beneath the sleeves of his imperial robes. "Immediately. And arm the guards. This could be a… cruel… cruel joke."
He paced the room, his mind reeling. Hope bloomed like a single wyvern tail pushing through the hard soil of grief. Could it be? Could Dion be alive? He forced himself to lower his expectations. This could be a trap, a carefully orchestrated plot to attack the empire by the south. But a part of him, the part that still yearned for his lost love, dared to believe.
The silence of the room was painful. Then, the heavy doors to the audience chamber swung open. He stood frozen, his gaze fixed on the figure framed in the doorway. Time seemed to slow to almost a stop.
There he was.
Slightly taller, his blonde hair longer than before, his face spoke of hardship and struggles. His golden eyes, usually sparkling with warmth, were now shadowed with pain. But there was no mistaking him. The cheekbones, the strong jawline, the familiar curve of his lips.
It was Dion.
"Terence," Dion said, his voice was low which sent shivers down Terence’s spine. He took a hesitant step forward, his gaze fixed on the Emperor. "It's… it's me."
Terence could only stare, speechless, the weight of the past two years crushing him. The evidence was before him, undeniable, yet his mind refused to accept it.
The blonde reached out a hand towards him. "Don't you know me Terence? Don't you remember… our schooling here at the castle together? Evenings on the training grounds? The night we declared our love after the attack?"
Memories flooded Terence, it was almost overwhelming. The feel of Dion's hand in his, the sound of his laughter, the feel of his lovers lips on his own. It was all there, as real as the man standing before him. A sob escaped Terence's lips. He moved forward, ignoring the guards who stepped back in surprise, and threw himself into Dion's arms.
The embrace was tight, desperate, a confirmation of a love thought lost forever. Terence buried his face in Dion's neck, breathing in the familiar scent of him, lavender oils, candles and a hint of the wine they used to share after battles won.
"Dion," he cried out, his eyes thick with tears. "You're alive. You're really alive."
Dion held him tightly, his own voice now rough with emotion. "I am, Terence. I'm here. I'm so sorry I've been gone so long."
The questions swirled in Terence's mind, a mix of bewilderment and disbelief. Where had he been? What had happened to him? How did he survive the fall from Ultima? But for now, those questions could wait. He had his husband home. He pulled back slightly, his eyes searching Dion's face. "But… Ultima?…"
Dion’s face screwed up slightly at the pain of remembering. "I'll explain everything, Terence. I promise. It's a long story. But first…" he cupped Terence's face in his hands, his thumbs gently wiping away the tears, "I need to know… are you happy to see me?"
Terence didn't hesitate. He leaned forward and pressed his lips to Dion’s, a kiss filled with relief, longing, and a love that had defied death itself. “More than words can say," he whispered against Dion's lips. "More than anything in the world."
The road ahead would be long and difficult. Explanations were needed and time would heal them both. But as Terence held Dion close, feeling the warmth of his body against his own, he knew that they could face anything. He was no longer alone. Dion was home.
For the first time in two long years, the weight of the Sanbreque crown felt lighter…