Her Name on His Lips

Posted on 2025, Fri Sep 19th, @ 8:27pm by Civilian Queen Kaitaama XII

402 words; about a 2 minute read

Mission: Episode 1: Shadows Over Krios - USS Vigilance
Location: Krios Prime – Royal Palace, Princess’s Private Quarters
Timeline: Later That Evening
Tags: Krios Prime, Princess Kaitaama, Imprinting, Romance, Private Reflection, Slow Burn, Royal Court, Duty vs Desire, Emotional Conflict, Night Scene

The palace had grown quiet. Lanterns glowed in the gardens below, casting long shadows across the ornate stone walls. From her private balcony, Kaitaama XII gazed down at the festival preparations that would soon flood her world with noise, light, and politics. Yet her mind was elsewhere.

She turned away from the view and pressed her hand against her chest, still feeling the echo of the moment from earlier that day — the way he had said her name. Kaitaama.

Not “Princess.” Not “Your Highness.” Just her name, as if she were simply a woman and not the heir of a throne. It had been deliberate, careful… and devastatingly intimate.

Her medical attendants had warned her that imprinting came with complications. Strong emotions. Deep connections. A pull toward the one who shared the bond. She had nodded at their explanations, pretending to listen, but nothing had prepared her for the way her heart reacted when the stern Marine Major finally surrendered protocol, if only for a second.

She crossed the chamber slowly, trailing her fingers across the carved wooden frame of her bed before sitting at its edge. “He resists,” she murmured aloud to no one, her voice laced with a faint smile. “But not forever.”

Images came unbidden — his eyes narrowing in focus at the tactical display, his shoulders squared with unrelenting duty, his voice steady even when desire flickered beneath it. He carried discipline like a second skin, yet she could feel the man beneath the armor, the one who had already bared his soul to her in their private moments.

Kaitaama laid back on the silken coverlet, staring up at the etched patterns in the ceiling. She thought of the stories of her ancestor — the first Kaitaama — who had also found herself drawn to a man outside of her station. Perhaps history did not just repeat; perhaps it insisted.

Her pulse quickened as she whispered the truth she dared not speak aloud in council, not even to her most loyal attendants.

“He is mine now… and I am his.”

For a moment, the weight of her crown felt lighter. For a moment, she was not a princess, not the future Queen of Krios — only a woman whose heart was tethered to a man sworn to protect her.

Yet as sleep began to tug at her eyes, a final thought lingered, bittersweet and unshakable.

What happens when duty and destiny collide?

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