Chapter 13
I knew this day would come-when he would return victorious, seeking the High Princess Seraphina’s hand in marriage.
Strangely, the thought no longer stirred my heart.
Henry, ever perceptive, had long since learned never to utter Alaric Thorne’s name in my presence.
On the afternoon of the second day, I went to a neighboring alley to purchase fresh goods. But as I turned a corner, a strong hand clamped over my mouth, dragging me into the shadows.
“Mmph!”
Assuming it was a robbery for my money, I threw my purse to the ground. Yet my assailant ignored it, continuing to pull
me away.
Not money-then what?
Dread coiled in my stomach.
In that moment of terror, the face that flashed in my mind wasn’t Alaric’s-but Henry’s.
Just as I prepared to scream, I recognized the towering gates before me.
The General’s Estate of Alaric Thorne.
My captor hauled me inside and dumped me outside Alaric’s study before vanishing.
Dazed, I rose to my feet, utterly bewildered.
The door creaked open.
Alaric stood before me, gaunt and weathered. Rumor said he had ridden day and night after his triumph in the Western
Sands-the exhaustion in his eyes confirmed it.
“Congratulations on your glorious return, Commander Thorne,” I said coolly. “At last, you may claim your prize.”
Had he brought me here to witness his wedding?
Red roses hung throughout the manor, their glow painting the walls in hues of celebration.
Alaric coughed, his voice roughened by fatigue. “Claim my prize?”
“Then I’ll take that as your consent.”
Consent? To what?
Before I could react, maids swarmed me, measuring every inch of my body.
“What is the meaning of this?” I demanded, whirling toward Alaric.
He remained impassive. “I promised to marry you upon my return.”
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My vision blurred with furious tears.
Two lifetimes of love, and still he mocks me!
Did he expect me to serve as his concubine while he wed the princess? Never.
“I won’t set foot in this manor again!” I spat, struggling violently.
Alaric’s expression darkened. “So unwilling to be the Commander’s wife?”
Wife-not concubine.
He meant to make me his bride?
No-this made no sense.
“And the High Princess?” I hissed. “Did you not vow to wed her? Or do you intend to have us both?”
He shook his head.
The war had sanded away his arrogance, leaving behind a tempered gravity. The stubble shadowing his jaw only accentuated his rugged maturity.
“You, just you.”
I stood frozen, suspicion churning.
But the maids gave me no time to question it. They hauled me to the rear chambers, thrusting me into a scalding bath. When I resisted, they forced bitter draughts down my throat-rendering me limp as a doll.
Helpless, I could only pray for Henry to burst through the windows and spirit me away.
Yet even in my desperation, I knew it was a foolish hope.
He was too young, too bright-his life shouldn’t be wasted on saving mine.
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