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A moment ago, I’d dismissed the glowing text as a fever–induced hallucination. Now, hearing Kaelen’s crue words with my own ears, a different kind of heat burned behind my eyes. My heart clenched, a painful, sou!
knot in my chest.
The drug surged through me, a relentless tide that gave me no time to breathe.
If I couldn’t go to Kaelen… could I really go to him?
He was my cousin, yes, but a distant one. As the King’s Chancellor, he was a man carved from ice and ambit ion, a figure of daunting perfection. I’d never seen him bow his head to anyone. Whenever I saw him, his for- midable, chilling presence was so intense I could barely lift my gaze from the floor, my voice a whisper. “Co-
usin Julian…”
He never responded,
Could this man, Julian, as remote as a snow–capped peak, really be the one the text described–the one who cried my name into his pillow at night?
A blush, hotter than the drug itself, scorched my ears. The blood in my veins felt like oil meeting a spark, an
unbearable itch deep in my bones.
I steeled myself, ready to turn and flee, but my foot snapped a dry twig. The sharp crack shattered the quiet conversation in the rose garden.
“Who’s there?” Kaelen’s voice was sharp, his gaze piercing the shadows.
My eyes were red–rimmed as I twisted the fabric of my gown, the effort to stand still excruciating.
When he saw it was me, his brow furrowed in a deep scowl, his lips twisting with scorn. “Elara. Must you be so pathetically clingy? Can’t I have a moment’s peace without you chasing after me?” His face darkened. “- Am I not even allowed to speak with Lady Seraphina?”
“You’re so possessive and jealous, it’s no wonder no man would ever want you!”
My voice, when I finally found it, was thick and watery. “No, it’s not that… I… I don’t feel well. I wasn’t trying to
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Chapter 1
follow you.”
Seraphina, ever the picture of grace, interjected smoothly, “Please, my lord. Lady Elara is unwell. You should
see to her.”
Kaelen just snorted, his disbelief a slap in the face. “Don’t play sick, Elara. Can’t you come up with a new excuse? Every time another woman is near me, you pull one of these stunts. Last time it was a lost bracelet,
now you’re ‘unwell‘?”
He strode forward and seized my wrist. The moment his skin touched mine, his arrogance vanished, replac ed by a flicker of panic. His brow creased. “Gods, you’re burning up. Did you catch a chill? Is this a fever?”
The scent of his cologne, once a comfort, now made my stomach churn. I felt my legs buckle, my control slipping. I was about to collapse into his arms, the drug too strong, the gnawing ache in my bones unbearab
- le.
But then, the text appeared again, a desperate, flashing warning.
[NO! Don’t let him touch you! If you fall for this psycho, your life is over!]
【That bastard! He’ll enjoy it just as much as you, but he’ll claim you seduced and forced him! Years from now, when he and his precious Seraphina have their dramatic reunion, you’ll be thrown out of his house to make room for her, left to die sick in the streets.)
【And after you die, your tight–lipped cousin won’t say a word. He’ll just silently follow you into death. Can’t you two just get together and spare us the drama from these two clowns?! It’s not even a good tragedy, it’s just manufactured angst!)
I stared at the glowing words, my mind reeling.
In the end, Julian–the cold, proud Chancellor who held the kingdom in his hand–would follow me to the
grave?
