Chapter 97

When I woke up, we were tangled together, his body wrapped around mine in a way that made me grin uncontrollably. The memory of last night filled me with a ridiculous kind of happiness, the kind that made me think I could live like this forever. But then reality crept in—the tangled mess of my concubine status and the ever-looming presence of the Queen, my lover's wife, who despised me with every fiber of her being. My smile faded, replaced by a heavy, sinking feeling.

Hadrian's steady breath against the back of my neck should have been comforting, but even his warmth couldn’t ease my mind. I knew he must have felt the sudden tension in my body, yet he didn't pull away. Instead, he murmured softly and nestled his face into the curve of my neck.

"Should I help you relax again?" he whispered, his hand sliding down my waist, parting my thighs with a deliberate ease.

"Hadrian," I gasped, my breath hitching as his fingers found their way inside me.

My skin, still achingly sensitive, trembled under his touch. The pleasure he stirred was addictive, overwhelming, leaving me craving him even more. He moved above me effortlessly, his eyes dark with desire as he sank his teeth into my neck. I moaned loudly, consumed by the intoxicating mix of pain and pleasure, my body melting beneath his relentless touch. As he pulled back, he licked away the thin trail of blood left behind.

"You taste divine," he murmured against my lips before capturing them in a deep, possessive kiss.

The faint taste of iron lingered, but I found myself enjoying it, slowly embracing every part of him. I loved him. My foolish heart clung to that love, drowning out the voice of reason that whispered caution. Even if our relationship was a whirlwind of insanity and his choices often cut deep, I was willing to forgive him anything. Or so I believed.

After yet another climax drained the last of my strength, we lay together, limbs entwined. His fingers traced lazy circles along my spine as I rested against him.

"I love you..." I murmured breathlessly.

Hadrian smiled, pressing a soft kiss to my forehead. For a fleeting moment, everything felt right.

But then, as if sensing my peace, he shattered it. "We can't spend nights like this for a while."

I stiffened. "W-why?" Panic clawed at my chest. These stolen moments with him were the only solace I had in this cruel arrangement.

"I can't continue pretending Selene isn't my Queen," he said, his tone measured and cold. "If I do, I'll lose the support of the powerful families."

His words cut deeper than any blade. "But... you told me yourself—Selene would only be Queen in name," I stammered, my voice barely above a whisper.

Hadrian exhaled heavily. "You know why I have to do this. I need you to see things from a broader perspective."

"Perspective..." I echoed bitterly, turning away from him.

"Stop sulking like a child, Thalassa. We have bigger problems to deal with." His voice held an edge of impatience as he rose from the bed and began dressing.

I wrapped the sheets tightly around me, watching him in silence. The anger simmering beneath my skin was useless; no matter what I said, nothing would change.

"I hate to send you away like this," he admitted, his gaze flickering to me. "But the fewer people who see you here, the better."

Another stab to the heart. I pressed a hand to my chest, watching him comb his hair in front of the mirror.

"You're not getting dressed?" he asked, catching my eye in the reflection.

I scoffed. "You tore all my clothes, remember? So unless you want your concubine walking out of here in nothing but sheets..."

He sighed and tossed me a shirt from his closet. "Wear this. I'll show you the way out through the corridor. There's a passage—"

"I know," I snapped.

He frowned. "You do?"

"Varen told me," I said, relishing the flicker of surprise in his eyes.

"Varen?" His disbelief was almost amusing.

"Yes. He offered to help me fight Selene, and I agreed."

Hadrian's expression darkened instantly. "You did what?!" He strode toward me, his eyes blazing with fury.

I didn't flinch. "I was humiliated, threatened, left to fend for myself. And where were you? Nowhere. You promised to protect me, and you failed. So when Varen offered help, I took it."

His jaw clenched. "I already apologized for that. You said you forgave me. Besides, I knew you weren't completely defenseless."

I narrowed my eyes. "What do you mean by that?"

Hadrian sighed and sat beside me. "Caspian ran some tests. He analyzed the results and had a good idea of your potential."

I stared at him, my heart pounding. "So you knew?"

"I only knew you had the strength to handle semi-nobles," he said nonchalantly.

I felt betrayed all over again. "Even I didn’t know what I was capable of! And you kept it from me?"

"Calm down, Thalassa," he said with a dismissive shrug. "I didn’t think Selene would act so quickly. I didn’t think it was necessary to tell you."

Anger boiled inside me, but deep down, I knew this was just another bitter pill I had to swallow.

I took a deep breath, struggling to steady myself. "Who else knew about my abilities? Gareth?" My body trembled, and I fought to keep my voice from breaking.

"I told Gareth, and only him," he confessed.

My jaw tightened as I processed his words. "When did you tell him?"

"Right before I left the Palace."

For a moment, I forgot how to breathe. That meant Gareth had known all along—known that I had grown stronger before he even accepted the challenge on my behalf. Suddenly, everything clicked into place. His unwavering confidence in my victory, which I had thought was a reckless gamble, now felt like a carefully orchestrated move. It was never truly about me; it was about ensuring the army's acceptance of Hadrian's leadership, while my acknowledgment was merely an unintended consequence. I wanted to believe otherwise, but the truth gnawed at me, and it hurt. It hurt more than I cared to admit.

"Wow..." I exhaled, a bitter smile tugging at my lips as I silently mocked my own naivety.

A deep sense of apprehension settled over me. I was afraid to ask any more questions, terrified of uncovering more painful truths. Today had already delivered enough heartbreak, and I wasn’t eager for more. Turning away from Hadrian, I slipped on his shirt, attempting to absorb everything he had just revealed.

"There's something else..." His voice cut through the silence.

I sighed heavily, bracing myself, and turned to face him. The pain was evident on my face, yet, as expected, he chose to overlook it.

"The celebration ball is tomorrow. You'll need a dress, something appropriate. I'll inform the maids—"

"No." My voice was firm, unwavering. "I want you to send Freya here to work in the Palace as my personal maid. I need someone I can trust."

His brows lifted slightly in surprise before he smirked. "Fine. If that's what you want, I’ll arrange it."

"Don't send her alone. She might be bullied by the other maids and servants," I added, my tone laced with determination.

"All right, I’ll make sure she's accompanied. Anything else, my love?" He grinned, as if granting my requests would somehow erase my anger.

I hated how his voice—so rich and persuasive—still made my heart flutter, despite my resentment. But my thoughts drifted elsewhere. The realization struck me hard—my father would be at the ball. A knot tightened in my stomach, and a shiver ran down my spine.

"Don't..." I whispered, my eyes pleading with Hadrian. "Just don't leave me completely alone tomorrow."

His smile was laced with a familiar sadness—an unspoken refusal. He reached out, his fingers grazing my cheek in a way that almost felt like an apology.

"I'll try," he murmured, but the lie in his voice was unmistakable.

Another stab to my heart. I forced my lips into a smile, though it felt hollow. He chose to believe it, his subtle sigh of relief stinging more than it should. My chest tightened, and I couldn’t bear to face him any longer. Buttoning the shirt with trembling fingers, I rose from the bed and made my way to the door.

"One more thing... You'll need an escort, and I can't accompany you." His words halted me mid-step, my hand gripping the door handle. "I'll have Lucian—"

"Fine. Call him," I interjected, hurriedly stepping into the corridor.

"Wait!" Hadrian's voice followed after me.

I cast him a weary glance, forcing a bitter smile. "Don’t worry. There's no one around to see me leaving your chambers."

Before he could respond, I pressed the hidden button beneath the painting—the one Varen had told me about—and slipped into the passage leading to my own chambers. I knew Hadrian wouldn’t risk drawing attention by calling after me. I seized the opportunity to escape before the weight of everything brought tears I couldn't control.

Left alone, I might have succumbed to the crushing misery of it all, but Varen arrived later that evening, holding a bottle of Dom Pérignon to celebrate my victory over Fenris.

"I prefer this over tea," I chuckled, raising my glass.

"I'm glad we share the same taste," he grinned, clinking his glass against mine.

I recounted the battle to him, every detail spilling from my lips. He listened, captivated, his admiration for my newfound strength evident. In his company, I found temporary solace—escaping Gareth’s scheming, Hadrian’s indifference, and the looming pain of what was yet to come. For a brief moment, I almost forgot about the inevitable confrontation with my father.

Then an idea struck me, and a wicked grin spread across my face.

"Varen..." I mused, locking eyes with him. "Would you be my escort to the celebration ball?"