The Crimson Crown

The royal suite’s bathing room was a sanctuary of warmth and opulence, the large basin tub dominating the center of the room. Sweet-scented bubbles floated on the surface of the water, their delicate floral aroma mingling with the faint steam curling upward in the cool afternoon air. The heat of the bath wrapped around my body like an embrace, soothing muscles still sore from the trials of the last few days.

The water’s warmth was blissful, its gentle currents lapping against my skin as I leaned back into Dorian’s chest. His arms encircled me, their strength a constant comfort, the feel of his calloused palms on my shoulders grounding me. The soft splash of water was the only sound, aside from the occasional drip echoing from the stone walls and the subtle crackle of a fire in the adjacent hearth.

I breathed in deeply, savoring the fragrant aroma that seemed to dance just beneath my nose—a mix of lavender and something sweet, perhaps vanilla. It was a stark contrast to the harsh smells of the castle’s lower levels, the lingering scent of sweat and grime from days of labor.

The steam played tricks on the air, blurring the world beyond the tub into a dreamlike haze. Dorian’s fingers moved slowly, tenderly washing my shoulders and arms, the rough texture of the sponge a pleasant friction against my skin. Each pass felt deliberate, his touch radiating both care and a possessive protectiveness. I closed my eyes, letting the sensations overtake me, the heat, the fragrance, the weight of his presence.

“You’re quiet,” he murmured, his voice low and soothing, the warmth of his breath tickling the shell of my ear.

“I’m just…taking it all in,” I replied, my voice barely above a whisper. “This feels like the first moment of peace we’ve had.”

He chuckled softly, the rumble of it vibrating through his chest and into my back. “And yet, here you are, thinking of what needs to be done next, aren’t you?”

I smiled faintly, though I didn’t deny it. He always could read me too well. “It’s hard not to. But right now…” I turned slightly, catching his gaze through the haze, the soft glow of the hearthlight reflecting in his eyes. “Right now, I just want to be here. With you.”

His grin softened into something more tender, his hand moving to cup my cheek, the dampness of his palm cool against my flushed skin. “Then stay here with me, Liliana,” he said, his tone carrying a quiet intensity. “For this moment, let’s forget everything else.”

I nodded, resting my head against his shoulder, feeling the gentle thrum of his heartbeat beneath my ear. The world outside might still be in turmoil, but here, in this steaming basin filled with sweet-scented bubbles and the warmth of his arms, I allowed myself to believe we were safe. Just for a little while longer.

As we lounged in the warm waters of the basin, a soft silence blanketing the room, my mind wandered back to the beginning—back to the first time I met Dorian.

It had been in this very suite of this very castle, though it felt like a lifetime ago. The towering stone pillars had seemed so imposing back then, their sheer height a physical manifestation of the weight I felt pressing down on my shoulders. I’d been eighteen, barely an adult, and my entire life had been upended by the arrangement that brought me here. I could still remember the icy chill of that day, how it seeped into my bones despite the roaring fires in the hearths.

And then, there was him.

Dorian had stood at the far end of the bedroom, resplendent in his formal attire, his posture rigid and commanding. His expression had been unreadable—stern, almost cold. I remembered thinking how every step I took toward him seemed to echo like a countdown, each one bringing me closer to what felt like my doom.

When we were finally introduced, his words had been clipped and formal, his voice low and steady but carrying an edge that set me on edge. He’d taken my hand—not harshly, but firmly—and I’d felt trapped in his grip, as though that one gesture had sealed my fate. He was so commanding, so unyielding, and I remembered wondering if this was the life I was destined for: a gilded cage, with a man who saw me as nothing more than an obligation.

As I stared into the rippling water now, those memories felt like whispers from another world. “You know,” I murmured, breaking the stillness, “I wasn’t sure I made the right decision, coming here. That first day, when I saw you, I thought…” I trailed off, unsure if I should admit it.

“You thought I was a brute,” Dorian finished for me, his voice low but tinged with an unmistakable softness. “I saw it in your eyes.”

I turned slightly, meeting his gaze. His expression wasn’t defensive or hurt, but reflective, as though he, too, was reliving that day. “You were…intimidating,” I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper. “You didn’t smile, didn’t say much beyond what was necessary. I thought I’d traded one kind of prison for another.”

Dorian nodded slowly, his lips pressing into a thin line. “And I thought you were…fragile,” he admitted, his hand drifting to trace lazy patterns along my arm beneath the water. “A sheltered princess, thrown into a world you weren’t prepared for. I thought it was my duty to mold you into someone who could withstand it.”

I smiled faintly, though there was a flicker of pain in it. “And so you were firm. Harsh, even.”

“I was,” he said, his voice heavy with regret. “Too harsh. I thought I was doing what was best for you, for the kingdom. But the truth was…I didn’t know how to handle what I was feeling. You were everything I wasn’t prepared for—strong-willed, clever, so full of life. And I…I thought I had to control it, rather than nurture it.”

I reached up, placing my hand over his, the warmth of his skin grounding me. “We were both so young,” I said softly. “We didn’t know any better. But I think…I think we needed each other to grow.”

He tilted his head, considering my words. “The invasion,” he said quietly, the weight of it heavy in the air. “It forced us to look at ourselves, didn’t it? Stripped away the pretenses, the walls we built. I saw you for who you truly are—a Queen, not just by title, but in every sense of the word. And I realized how much I needed to be better for you.”

Tears pricked at the corners of my eyes, the truth of his words cutting through me. “And I saw you, not as a brute, but as a man with so much love to give. You’ve been my anchor, Dorian. Even when I doubted everything else, I never doubted you.”

He leaned in, his forehead pressing against mine, the warmth of his breath mingling with mine. “We’ve been through hell,” he murmured. “But it brought us here. Together. And I wouldn’t trade that for anything.”

For a moment, there was nothing but the sound of the water gently lapping against the sides of the basin, the soft scent of lavender and rose filling the air. The past was painful, but it had shaped us. It had driven us to be better—for ourselves, for each other, and for the kingdom we were rebuilding together.

And as Dorian’s arms tightened around me, I realized I wouldn’t trade it either.

As I sank deeper into the warm embrace of the water, the steam curling around me like a gentle fog, my thoughts drifted to the coronation tomorrow. The weight of it pressed against my chest, an invisible force that made it hard to breathe. I tilted my head back against Dorian’s shoulder, staring at the ceiling as the scented bubbles tickled my skin. The lavender and rose in the air, while soothing, did little to quiet the storm in my mind.

“I don’t know if I can do it,” I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper. “What if they see through me, Dorian? What if they see not a Queen, but…a child playing dress-up? Someone who’s been pretending all along?”

He shifted behind me, his arms tightening slightly around my waist. His warmth seeped into me, grounding me, but it wasn’t enough to dispel the self-doubt clawing at my thoughts.

“Liliana,” he said gently, his tone steady and firm. “Do you really believe that?”

I hesitated, my fingers trailing absentmindedly through the water. “I don’t know,” I murmured. “Sometimes, it feels like everything I’ve done, everything I’ve tried to be… It’s all just a facade. A mask I wear to keep from falling apart. And tomorrow, when I stand on that stage, what if they see me for who I really am? A girl who spent weeks scrubbing floors.” My cheeks burned, the shame of it all bubbling to the surface again.

Dorian cupped my chin gently, turning my face to meet his. His blue eyes were unwavering, filled with a steady kind of certainty that I couldn’t ignore. “Liliana, do you know what I saw today when you stood before our people?”

I shook my head, unable to meet his gaze for long.

“I saw the woman who reunited an entire kingdom. The woman who stood at the top of that spire, glowing like a goddess, filling the hearts of every man, woman, and child with hope. I saw a leader, a Queen—someone the people will rally behind not because of the crown on her head, but because of the strength in her heart.”

His words made my chest tighten, a lump forming in my throat. “But what if I fail?” I whispered. “What if—”

“You won’t,” he said firmly, cutting me off. “You’ve already done the impossible, Liliana. You brought together an army and a people who thought they had nothing left to fight for. You were the light in the darkness, the beacon that guided us all to this moment. And tomorrow, when you step onto that stage, they’ll see you for who you really are.”

I swallowed hard, my tears mingling with the steam as they slipped down my cheeks. “And who is that?” I asked, my voice trembling.

Dorian smiled softly, brushing a damp strand of hair from my face. “The Queen of the Four Winds. A woman who’s stronger than she knows. And my heart.” His voice dropped to a whisper, his forehead resting against mine. “You’re everything this kingdom needs, Liliana. And you always will be.”

The conviction in his voice chipped away at the walls of doubt I’d built around myself. I closed my eyes, letting his words wash over me like the warm water encircling us. For the first time in what felt like weeks, I felt the smallest flicker of hope—a fragile but steady ember deep within me.

“I’ll try,” I said softly, my voice barely audible. “For you, for them, I’ll try.”

“You won’t just try,” Dorian said, his lips brushing against my temple. “You’ll succeed. Because you’re my Queen. And nothing can take that away from you.”

Dorian rose from the water, the soft ripples tracing his form as droplets caught the flickering light of the lanterns. I couldn’t help the warmth that spread across my cheeks as my eyes lingered on him longer than they should have. His confident smile made it worse, as if he could read every thought running through my head.

“Come on, my Queen,” he said, his voice low and teasing, extending a hand toward me. “The water’s cooled enough. Let’s get you ready for bed.”

Reluctantly, I placed my hand in his, and he gently helped me up. The cool air wrapped around me like an unwelcome reminder of the world outside this warm sanctuary. Dorian grabbed a fluffy towel from a nearby hook, his movements deliberate and steady as he wrapped it snugly around my shoulders. He rubbed my arms gently through the towel, his touch both soothing and reassuring.

“Thank you,” I mumbled, pulling the towel tighter around myself, suddenly feeling shy under his gaze.

Dorian smiled, grabbing a robe and tying it around his waist before guiding me out of the bathing room. His hand stayed firmly at the small of my back, a quiet but commanding presence that always made me feel safer. We stepped into the bedroom, the soft glow of the lanterns casting shadows across the walls. The bed was freshly made, the thick duvet calling out to my exhausted body.

He turned toward me, his smile softening. “Let’s get you comfortable.”

As if on cue, he fetched the changing supplies from the changing table. The sight of them made my cheeks burn all over again. I hesitated, watching him spread the thick diaper out on the bed, his movements practiced and deliberate. He glanced up, catching my expression, and smirked.

“What’s on your mind, Liliana?” he asked, his tone light and teasing as he patted the center of the unfolded diaper, motioning for me to lie down.

I sighed, wrapping the towel tighter around myself for a moment before letting it drop and settling onto the bed. “Just thinking about the irony of all this,” I muttered as I stared at the ceiling, trying to ignore the sound of the diaper crinkling beneath me. “I’m supposed to be the Queen of the Four Winds, a ruler of unmatched grace and power. And yet here I am, lying down to be diapered like a baby.”

Dorian chuckled softly, the sound rich and warm. “You think being diapered makes you any less of a Queen?” he asked, kneeling beside the bed and grabbing the powder. “If anything, it makes you stronger.”

I frowned, raising an eyebrow. “Stronger? How do you figure that?”

He sprinkled the powder, his hands gentle as he worked. “It takes strength to embrace who you are, Liliana. To face the traditions and expectations placed on you and make them your own. This—” he tapped the diaper lightly, grinning, “—is just one part of who you are as a Queen. And as my wife.”

I rolled my eyes, though his words struck a chord deep within me. “You always know how to twist things around, don’t you?”

“It’s not twisting,” he said, pulling the diaper snugly around me and fastening the tabs with practiced ease. “It’s perspective. And from where I’m standing, you’re not just my Queen. You’re my good girl. And that’s something no crown or title could ever change.”

The blush returned full force, and I covered my face with my hands, groaning softly. “You’re impossible, you know that?”

He laughed, pulling me into a seated position and helping me into a soft nightgown. “And you wouldn’t have me any other way,” he said, brushing a stray strand of hair from my face and kissing my forehead.

As I looked up at him, I couldn’t help but smile. Despite the humiliation, despite the absurdity, I felt…loved. Safe. And maybe, just maybe, ready to face whatever challenges lay ahead.

Dorian pulled on a simple pair of soft linen shorts, the fabric loose and comfortable, before turning back to me with that same loving smile he always seemed to have when we were alone. “Alright, my little Queen,” he murmured, bending to retrieve something from the bedside table. “Let’s make sure you’re all set for the night.”

I blinked at him, curious, until he held up a plush stuffed animal—a soft, floppy-eared rabbit with silky fur that gleamed faintly in the dim light. Without waiting for my response, he tucked it into my arms. I couldn’t help but clutch it instinctively, the softness a welcome comfort against the whirlwind of my thoughts.

“And this,” he said, holding up a pacifier, its design simple but unmistakably infantile. My cheeks burned as I stared at it, and he chuckled at my hesitation. “Come on, Liliana. You know it helps you relax.”

I sighed but didn’t argue, opening my mouth slightly as he pressed it gently against my lips. The rubber bulb settled between my teeth, the familiar sensation oddly soothing as I began to nurse it instinctively. Dorian smiled, clearly satisfied, and pulled back the covers, guiding me to lie down.

As I snuggled into the soft bedding, hugging the rabbit to my chest, Dorian slid in beside me, his strong arms wrapping around me protectively. His body was warm, the steady rhythm of his breathing lulling me as much as the plush mattress beneath us. He kissed the top of my head, his voice a soft whisper in the dark.

“Goodnight, my love. Sweet dreams.”

The lanterns were shuttered, plunging the room into a comforting darkness broken only by the faint silver glow of moonlight streaming through the curtains. The world outside was silent, the chaos of the past weeks feeling like a distant memory in this cocoon of safety.

As I nursed my pacifier, the rhythmic sound filling my ears, I felt my body relax fully, the tension of the day melting away. My thoughts began to drift, swirling with images of the throne room, the people cheering, and Dorian’s unwavering presence by my side. Tomorrow would bring its own challenges, but for now, wrapped in his embrace and clutching my rabbit, I let myself sink into the comforting darkness of sleep, feeling more at peace than I had in weeks.