Chapter Sixty eight: The Weight of two hearts

Chapter Sixty eight: The Weight of two hearts
Freya left the garden with her pulse still fluttering like trapped wings. The cool air of the hallway did nothing to settle her racing mind. Her lips still tingled—an echo of a kiss she shouldn’t have let happen. Every step felt heavier, every breath unsteady.

She kept replaying it in her head: the warmth of Kehan’s mouth, the shock of her own reaction, the guilt that followed like a shadow too long for her to outrun.

Her heart wasn’t silent anymore. It was loud. Chaotic. Torn.

She needed answers—answers she couldn’t get from Axir or Kehan. Answers she didn’t even trust herself with.

But maybe…

Her mind flicked to the woman who had always moved with quiet wisdom, the one who served Kehan’s estate but carried an old, almost ancient grace.
Rima.

Before she could talk herself out of it, Freya turned sharply and made her way down the corridor, scanning for the slim silhouette of the house steward.

She spotted Rima near the main hall, giving instructions to two younger attendants. When Rima saw Freya approach, her brows lifted with warmth.

“Lady Freya,” she greeted gently. “Are you feeling unwell?”

Freya swallowed hard. “Can we talk? Privately?”

Rima took one look at her face and nodded. No questions. No hesitation. That alone nearly made Freya cry.

“Come,” Rima said softly. “Your chamber will do.”

Once they were inside Freya’s room, Rima closed the door with a quiet click. Her calm presence only heightened the storm in Freya’s chest.

“Tell me what troubles you,” Rima said.

Freya sat on the edge of her bed. Her fingers twisted in her lap. Her throat closed up, and she had to inhale slowly before words could escape.

“I…” She swallowed. “I think I’m in love with two men.”

Rima did not gasp. She did not blink rapidly or drop her jaw in shock. She simply sat beside Freya like she already knew this moment was coming.

Freya’s voice cracked. “I love Axir. I do. I would follow him through galaxies. But Kehan—he… I don’t know how to explain it. I didn’t see him coming.” Her face flushed with shame. “And I kissed him. I didn’t mean to, but something inside me—”

She pressed her palm to her chest.

“Something… responded.”

Rima placed a gentle hand over Freya’s trembling one.

“Child,” she murmured. “Your heart is not betraying you. It is awakening.”

Freya’s breath hitched. “Awakening to what? Confusion?”

Rima shook her head. “To destiny.”

Freya frowned. “What does that mean?”

Rima exhaled slowly, as if about to peel back a layer of history hidden beneath centuries.

“There is a tale,” she said quietly, “one Nimoans and Zytherions used to share long ago. A tale of two sacred bonds. One is the Kai’thera—the soul link of devotion, destiny, and singular heart. The bond many hope for, and few ever find.”

Freya nodded softly. “Axir’s bond.”

“Yes,” Rima said.

“And the other?” Freya whispered.

Rima’s eyes gleamed with something ancient. “The Vehlari.”

The word rolled through the air like a soft thunder.

“It is a bond of cosmic pull,” Rima continued. “Rare. Unpredictable. It links hearts not through fate—but through alignment. Through harmony of spirit. Where Kai’thera is destiny, Vehlari is resonance. Two souls whose energies sing the same melody.”

Freya felt her skin prickle.

“Are you saying…” she whispered, unable to finish the sentence.

“That it is possible,” Rima said, “to share two bonds. One of destiny. One of resonance. But such people are rare beyond measure. And such paths are… complicated.”

Freya pressed a hand to her chest again. “I don’t want complicated. I just want… I want to stop hurting the people I care about.”

Rima gave her a sympathetic smile. “Then you must do the one thing most avoid.”

Freya looked up. “What?”

“Be honest,” Rima said. “With Axir. With Kehan. And with yourself.”

Freya shook her head, panic rising. “What if I hurt them both? What if… what if Axir hates me? What if I break his heart?”

Rima squeezed her hand. “Running from truth shatters hearts more deeply than facing it.”

Freya’s eyes stung with tears she refused to let fall.

“Do you think I’m horrible?”

“No,” Rima said firmly. “I think you are human. And this galaxy is not kind to hearts like yours. But it is also not blind. The bonds you feel may have meaning greater than you know.”

Freya wiped her cheek. “Rima… how do you know all this?”

“Because,” Rima said softly, “I once loved in two directions too.”

Freya froze.

Rima looked down, a sad smile touching her lips. “It did not end the way I wished. But I learned that truth keeps the soul whole. Even when the heart is split.”

Silence settled around them like a soft blanket.

Then Freya inhaled sharply—steadying herself.

“You’re right,” she said quietly. “I can’t keep pretending everything is fine. I can’t keep waiting for this to fix itself. I need to speak to them. Both of them.”

Rima nodded with pride in her eyes.

“When do you wish to do this?”

Freya straightened her shoulders, fear still trembling under her skin—but determination blooming beneath it.

“Soon,” she said. “I’ll talk to them as soon as I can.”

Rima squeezed her hand once more. “Then rest tonight. Your heart will need strength.”

Freya nodded, exhaling slowly.

When Rima left the room, Freya sat silently for a long moment, holding Kehan’s blazer draped over her shoulders while Axir’s whisper, my kai’thera, echoed in her mind.

Two bonds.
Two hearts.
Two paths.

And she would face both of them soon.

One way or another.