Page 107 of Reign of Betrayal

I walk back to my room and enter, the pain written on Reign’s pretty face tearing at me. Her words echo in my mind:You have taught me that duty is more important than desire, than my own wants.

A reminder that this is my fault. I did this. I have always prioritized duty over my desires and look where it has led me. I’m miserable, burning inside. I almost want to hate Reign for provoking these feelings. If I let myself be with her, what would happen to my kingdom? Would the curse worsen? Who would ensure our guards aren’t as corrupt as Vanna’s? Even though it feels impossible, I still try to win my father’s approval. But if I took Reign as a wife, I’d surely lose any chance of his favor.

I was right when I told her that love weakens people. I have never felt as weak… as powerless as I do now. Yet, I love her. I do. Maybe in truly loving her, I should let her go. There’s no way for us to be together anyway. If she can be happy here, shouldn’t I give that to her? Shouldn’t I swallow my own feelings and desires if it means she has a chance at happiness?

Picking up the bottle of brandy on my bedside table, I pour a generous glass and down it. I savor the burn as it travels down my throat and into my chest. Then I throw the glass against the wall. It shatters into tiny pieces, mirroring my heart.

Suddenly, a knock at my door interrupts my thoughts. I stand there, my chest rising and falling rapidly. I try to steady my breathing and say, “Enter.”

The female servant from earlier opens the door, wearing a thin, lacy nightgown. “I came for you, Prince Lukene.” She smiles as she enters and shuts the door behind her. Her eyes widen when she sees the broken glass. “What happened?”

“Why are you here?” I snap, shadows seeping from me slowly, menacingly.

Her eyes grow wide, nearly the size of saucers, and she starts to tremble.

“Leave! Now… and don’t come back again…” She bolts, and I feel a sense of unease creep over me. I send shadows to watch over Reign, ensuring her safety.

Sitting in front of the roaring fire, I can’t help but think of Lukene. I know I shouldn’t. Prince Elliot is sweet and handsome, and his people seem to love him. Yet he… he isn’thim. I hate Lukene for making me fall for him, only to give me away like I’m nothing—like I’m trash, just another disposable peasant. My chest aches with emotional heaviness; my truths weigh like a burden too heavy to bear.

So badly, I want to explain to him that I would choose him. If it was a possibility I’d pick him, every single time. He may think he is a monster, but if he is… then he is my monster. After suffering in my own thoughts for a while, I decide to do something foolish. I get up, determined to head to his room and tell him. Feeling lighter at the thought, I leave my room and turn toward his, but I suddenly halt, frozen in my tracks.

A female servant, dressed in a skimpy nightgown—if you can even call it that—knocks and enters his room. My heart sinks in my chest. Fire breaks out of my palms. I’m suffocating, my fury flames, stealing all my oxygen. My fire burns large and bright. I will it to stop, but it won’t.

I retreat back into my room, slamming the door shut behind me. Unable to control the tears that flow, fire begins to dance across my skin. I need to bring them in before they reduce the room to ash, but they are as stubborn as me. My tears trail down my singeing skin, evaporating into steam.

Have I fallen for a lie? Am I a fool? It’s a game for him—a ‘try to win what you can’t have’ type of game. What a dark twisted bastard.

Desperate to think of anything but the betrayal flooding my heart, I slowly inhale and release the breath. Calming my breathing helps. Gradually, I manage to draw my fiery magic back in. Expending that much magic so rapidly leaves me spent and exhausted. Lying on the floor like a sea star, limbs extended, I watch the ceiling and the shadows dancing from the firelight.

Closing my teary eyes, I think of my father. I wish he were here to guide me. I’d even welcome my mother at this point. When I open my eyes, I swear the shadows have grown larger. Looking at the fire, I notice it doesn’t appear smaller. Maybe exhaustion is taking a toll on me, or perhaps my broken heart is warping my perception of reality.

* * *

The servant brushesmy long hair, pinning it up in a style I don’t typically wear. She brings me a blue dress for the day, but I request a black one. Within minutes, she returns with a stunning black dress. It features tight lace sleeves, a fitted bodice, and a long skirt that flares slightly—completely black. Perfect.

Prince Elliot has invited me to walk the gardens and enjoy a private breakfast this morning. As the servant and I step out of my room, I can’t help but glance at Lukene’s door, wondering if the servant is still in there, servicing him. The thought has bile crawling up my throat.

Following the servant through the winding halls, we finally reach the grand gardens. Prince Elliot stands at a quaint little table, already set for breakfast. When he sees me, a huge smile lights up his face. Inhaling sharply, I walk toward him—toward my future husband or executioner, toward a future that doesn’t include Lukene.

“My lovely Lavender… You look beautiful as always.” He takes my hand and kisses it. “Shall I show you the gardens first?” He extends his arm for me to take while the cold breeze tousles his sandy blonde hair. Nodding, I lock my arm in his.

The gardens are massive, open, and bright. The sweet fragrance of flowers fills the air like a magical aroma. Inhaling deeply, I try to cleanse the angst and worry swirling within me.

“How are they so vibrant? Winter will be upon us soon?” I ask, admiring the brightly colored blooms.

“We have an Infinity who wields plant magic. She’s from your kingdom, actually. She keeps them beautifully bloomed all year long.”

We stroll through the lush greenery and vibrant flowers until we reach rows of rose bushes. My eyes widen with delight, and Elliot chuckles.

“Real rose bushes!” I lean down to smell one of the buds, reveling in the sight of normal, non-cursed blooms. “They are magnificent.” When I look up, Prince Elliot’s blue eyes sparkle at me, and he grins with bewilderment.

“Yet they are dulled in comparison to you,” he replies, causing my face to heat. He plucks a deep purple rose from the bush, steps closer, and gently places it in my hair. A smile spreads across my face, warmth flooding my chest.

We walk back to the breakfast table and sit down. The garden is beautiful, but with the changing weather and the lacy sleeves, I feel cold. Prince Elliot notices my shivers and stands immediately.

He removes his thick blue cloak and drapes it over my shoulders before sitting back down. It’s warm and comforting, infused with his scent—wood and warm honey. It’s refreshing.

Breakfast is delicious, featuring an assortment of fruits, eggs, oatmeal, and meats, all except pork. He must have remembered Lukene’s comment. Then it hits me… I haven’t thought about Lukene this entire time. Good. I wish I hadn’t just remembered him.

---