Page 20 of Revert
The king’s gaze followed the movement. His smile thinned, sharp as a blade’s edge. “I’m pleased to see the two of you growing...closer. Let’s hope that closeness doesn’t breed recklessness. Never forget the real reason for this engagement…and that I only keep what is essential for Thorndale’s posterity.” He returned his attention fully to me. “I only wish to ensure harmony in my court. You understand, don’t you, Princess?”
I swallowed, feigning a composure I didn’t feel. “Perfectly, Your Majesty.”
He held my gaze for a heartbeat too long—as if waiting for me to crack beneath the pressure. When I didn’t, he released me with a flick of his fingers, as though I wasn’t worth any further attention. Without another word, he turned and strode from the room as deliberately as a blade being sheathed, his guards gliding after him like shadows drawn to blood.
Silence fell, heavy and consuming. I remained frozen, lungs aching from the breath I’d been too afraid to take. My fingers pressed to my chest, trying to still my racing heart and gather the scattered remains of my composure.
Prince Castiel remained behind, his body an unwavering shield between me and the danger. Only when the echo of the king’s footsteps had faded did he finally stir. Something flickered behind his gaze as he looked at me, just for a moment. Regret? Warning? Whatever the emotion was, it passed too quickly to name.
He followed the king into the shadows beyond the throne room, leaving me alone with the ghost of his protection still lingering in the space between us like a question I didn’t know how to ask.
CHAPTER 7
My breath came sharp and shallow as I hurried from the throne room, desperate to put as much distance as possible between me and the memories of the confrontation that clung to me like a shadow following in my wake. Outwardly, I forced composure, acutely aware of the guards’ eyes trailing after me, the servants I passed, and the unseen watchers lurking just out of sight.
At the first opportunity, I slipped into an unused hall, pressing my back against the cold stone as I fought to still my trembling. I squeezed my eyes shut, palm flattening over my chest as if I could somehow will my heart to slow its frantic beat beneath the scar. All the while, my thoughts warred within me.
He watched his father threaten me like it was nothing…yet why had I noticed that unexpected warning look, that shift in his stance when the king warned me about my fate should I speak too freely?
I hadn’t realized how much I’d been searching for such a crack in his usual formidable indifference until I’d finally found one.
I had no reason to care that my betrothed in name only showed me any consideration—my last hopes for a love matchhad died the moment my life ended at the point of his blade. And yet…I couldn’t explain my need to explore the protection he’d offered, the way it felt like he’d been shielding me from the shadows, just beyond the king’s notice.
Both my enemy…and my secret ally, though I still hesitated to trust him as such.
This uncertainty lingered with the king’s threats long after his departure. Once, they would have shackled me, tethered my resolve in iron chains of fear. Though they still haunted me, curling tight, they were nothing compared to the confusion knotting inside me—the contradiction that was Prince Castiel’s perplexing behavior.
One moment, he was the steady puppet at the king’s side, the perfect weapon shaped to His Majesty’s will—my enemy, my murderer.
And yet, I couldn’t so easily forget the strange cracks I’d glimpsed during the confrontation—a flicker of warning in his eyes, the smallest edge of worry, the hesitated breath when he should have delivered a cold, impassive command…almost as if he waschoosingto wear a mask, to wield terror as a shield to keep me at a distance rather than truly being indifferent to my welfare.
As soon as I gathered the scattered threads of my composure, I took a shaky breath and pushed off the wall. My steps echoed as I exited the corridor. Stone blurred past as I quickened my pace through the dim halls, torches flickering in their sconces as I searched for him—for once not running from my enemy, but actively hunting.
I found him exiting the war room, his profile sharp in the low light, cloak trailing like a shadow. Formal, cold, every line of him carved in perfect control. My trained eyes observed the tension stiffening his shoulders, testifying of an unseen pressure…as if he, too, was being watched and hunted, just as I was.
“Your Highness.” My voice cut through the hush more sharply than I intended as I stepped into the dim hall, my pulse pounding in my ears.
He stilled, caught mid-turn, as if he had known I would follow. Slowly, he pivoted, his body rigid, his expression carved from stone, impassive as ever, as if we were nothing more than strangers meeting in the corridors of court.
His mouth tightened. “You shouldn’t be here.”
The clipped words weren’t a suggestion but a command, an attempt to end this conversation before it even began. Once, I might have cowered and unquestioningly obeyed. But though I couldn’t yet name the emotion I’d seen him wrestle with, something in me refused to be deterred from my purpose this time.
I stepped closer, fists clenched at my sides. “What game are you playing?”
A muscle ticked in his jaw. With a subtle motion of his fingers, he signaled the guards to step just far enough away to grant us privacy, though still within reach to observe us as always.
For a heartbeat, something raw flickered in his eyes—a crack in the polished mask…and then it was gone, buried beneath familiar detachment. But I knew what I’d seen, however quickly it may have vanished.
“Must you keep playing such a dangerous game?” His voice was quiet, edged with steel, making it impossible to discern whether it was annoyance or concern that hardened his words. “It hasn’t even been a quarter of an hour since His Majesty’s generous warning. He was gracious enough to extend you one; don’t think you have infinite chances.” His gaze sharpened, dark and unreadable as he took a step closer. “Be careful, Princess. You don’t know what you’re going up against. Your duty is to play your role and prove that you have Thorndale’s best interestsat heart as you prepare to take your place—not to see how far you can push the bounds.”
I lifted my chin. “I won’t stop until I know whose side you are on.”
He exhaled slowly, and for a moment I thought he might finally offer me one of the elusive answers I’d been chasing. But then his lips curved faintly, cool and cutting in the expression I’d seen countless times over the past years.
“Is that even a question, Princess? There’s only one side to be on.”
According to the invisible mechanisms at work behind the scenes in the Thorndale court, that was true. And yet, I couldn’t forget the way he had stepped between me and the king’s guard—a shield of protection, a silent defiance against His Majesty’s will.
