Chapter 11 - Whispers in the Dark
That night, the wind howled against the stained-glass windows of the royal bedchamber, rattling the heavy iron latches.
Evangeline stood by the dressing table, her fingers tracing the cold silver of the hair comb she had left behind five years ago. The room looked identical to the day she had departed for her ill-fated diplomatic mission, yet everything felt fundamentally different. She was different.
The door opened softly, and Cedric walked in, carrying a small ceramic bowl of steaming medicinal herbs prepared by the castle healer. He set it down on the table, then wrapped his arms around her waist from behind, pressing his face into the crook of her neck.
"You terrified the council today," Cedric murmured, his deep voice vibrating against her spine. "Vance hasn't looked that pale since the day I broke his favorite mahogany desk."
Evangeline leaned back against his chest, letting out a soft, tired sigh. She reached up and touched his scarred cheek. "They thought I was weak, Cedric. They thought the Romanov branding had turned me into something they could manage, or manipulate, or push aside."
"They don't know you," Cedric replied fiercely, turning her around in his arms so she faced him. "They only know the legend of the Alpha King. They forget that the kingdom was built on the strength of both of us."
She looked up into his hazel eyes, seeing the lingering weight of the past five years—the sleepless nights, the empty bed, the ruthless wars fought out of sheer, unadulterated heartbreak.
"Do you ever think about it?" she whispered, her voice dropping to a fragile register. "What they did to me in the dark... the days when I forgot your face?"
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Cedric didn't hesitate. He framed her face with both hands, his thumbs gently brushing her cheekbones. "I thought about it every single day for five years, Evie. Every time I looked at this empty room, I swore that if I ever found the monsters responsible, I would burn their world down to the ash." He pressed his forehead gently against hers. "And I did. They are gone. You are here. That is all that matters."
Evangeline closed her eyes, letting his warmth wash away the phantom chill of the Russian dungeons. For the first time since she had been dragged onto that auction stage in Venice, the nightmares felt like something left behind in another lifetime.
