The silence stretched longer than Julius expected.
He had just declared—boldly, confidently—that there would be a wedding.
A national one.
A coronation through union.
Yet instead of relief or joy, he saw hesitation.
Serena's fingers tightened slightly at her sides.
Yuri's eyes shimmered—not with happiness, but with something far heavier.
"…What?" Julius asked, glancing between them. "That was not the reaction I anticipated."
Serena and Yuri exchanged a look.
Then, almost in unison—
"You don't have to."
Julius blinked.
"I beg your pardon?"
Serena straightened, her voice composed but quieter now. "You do not have to marry us simply because that is what we want to happen."
Yuri nodded quickly. "Or because you feel obligated."
"Obligated?" Julius repeated, incredulous.
Yuri swallowed. "Roserun is gone. Francia is conquered. We bring you no alliances. No armies. No dowries of consequence."
"And," Serena added softly, "I have already been married once."
