Chapter Twenty Three

Chapter Twenty Three
“Scoop the dust,” Annabelle ordered.

Every guard turned to her.

Even Maximus.

Her voice wasn’t loud, but it carried authority, commanding, calm in the middle of chaos.

The captain blinked. “My lady… the dust?”

“Yes,” I said firmly. “takea sample. Seal it. I want it taken to the palace and stored safely. I’ll examine it later.”

Maximus frowned. “You? Examine it?”

“Yes,” I said, meeting his eyes with confidence. “When I see the Unhinged for my first training later today. He and I will analyze it together.”

The king froze slightly at the mention of the Unhinged teaching me, clearly still unsure about that decision, but he still didn’t object.

Instead, he lifted a hand.

“You heard her,” Maximus commanded. “Collect the dust.”

Guards knelt carefully, scooping the pale remains into metal containers normally used for magical residue. No one dared question further, what just happened had left everyone shocked to their bones

As they worked, Abel moved closer to me.

“Annabelle… your hand.”

I blinked, looking down in oblivion

A long, thin slice ran across my arm deep enough to sting although I felt nothing until he pointed it out, but not deep enough to bleed heavily. In the fight, funny enough adrenaline had kicked in so hard I hadn’t even noticed.

Maximus noticed now.

His eyes darkened. “Why didn’t you say you were hurt?”

“ I didn't even know, It’s nothing,” I said.

Abel shook his head. “No, it’s not. Cuts like that can get infected. And” he paused, glancing around the ruined street, “we’re not far from your old shop. I still remember where you kept your bandages.”

My old shop.

The one from my first life, my home
The only place where I had ever felt… safe.

Maximus turned sharply. “Her what?”

Abel answered before I could. “Her old herb shop. Where she used to work before” where you met her, before she became Luna

Maximus’s eyes turned to me, then to our surroundings, as if considering if we could fight them if they came back

Finally, he gave a nod.

“Fine. Lead us.”

Abel took the front, guiding us through the narrow alleyways that I had run through a thousand times in my past life. Maximus walked beside me, close enough that our arms brushed not by accident, he was doing it intentionally and I was avoiding him

The guards followed behind.

After a short walk, we reached it.

My old shop.

Or rather… what was left of it.

The small wooden door was still painted the faded blue I had chosen. The hanging sign Belle’s Remedies was cracked but somehow still attached. Dust filled the windows, but the moment Abel pushed the door open…

The memories of my life all came rushing out ,all my memories from this old dirty shop were so much better than my memories from the palace, how ironic, I signed under my breath. I guess sometimes less is more

Shelves.
Glass jars.
My old mortar and pestle.
Bundles of dried herbs hanging from the ceiling.
And a chipped wooden counter where Abel used to sit and tease me about my handwriting.

I stood frozen.

The scent of herbs and old wood hit her the moment she stepped inside. Dust painted the tables, but everything was exactly where she’d left it , the cracked mortar, the crooked shelf Abel once broke, the tiny window where rats always got in.

Abel walked in slowly, his eyes tracing every corner.

“Wow,” he breathed. “It still smells like rosemary in here… like when you used to burn it to cover up the scent of your failed potions.”

I rolled my eyes, pressing my injured hand against her dress, it suddenly started to hurt. “ Please," I smiled “They were experimental mixtures.”

“They were disasters,” Abel corrected, grinning. “Do you remember the one that turned your eyebrows green for a week?”

A laugh slipped out of me before I could stop it. “That was your fault. You told me to add the extra drop.”

“You believed me,” Abel said, pretending to be offended. “That’s on you.”

She shook her head, walking past him to touch the old counter. “It feels like a different life.”

Abel glanced at her, softer now. “It wasn’t that long ago. I remember when you asked me to help you arrange these shelves because you said your ‘future success needed order.’ And then you got too tired halfway and made me finish while you slept on the floor.”

“I was studying all night!” she protested.

He snorted. “You drooled on the floor.”

“Liar.”

“I can draw the map of the drool.”

She punched his arm lightly, smiling despite herself.

Abel’s gaze drifted to a small dent on the wall. “Do you remember this?”

Annabelle blinked. “…The day my potion exploded?”

“Yep. You came running out screaming that the bottle turned into a fire spirit.”

“It WAS glowing like one!”

“It was a hot glass bottle, Annabelle,” he said, laughing now. “You made me chase it outside thinking it was alive.”

She covered her face in embarrassment. “Oh gods.”

Abel chuckled.

“You worked so hard here,” he said. “Even when people made fun of you… even when customers refused to pay because you were ‘just a girl.’ You never gave up.”

Her laughter faded. She looked at him, surprised. “You remember all that?”

“I remember everything,” Abel replied simply. “Every bruise, every insult, every practice every time you cried because someone said alchemy wasn’t for you. And every time you stood up again.”

“And now look at you,” Abel continued, brushing some dust off the counter. “Fighting off… whatever those things were. Luna of a kingdom. Braver than half the warriors here.”

She didn’t realize she was staring at him until he added softly:

“You’re stronger than you think, Annabelle.”

The king, who had been silent near the door, shifted uncomfortably as he listened. His jaw tightened ever so slightly.

Abel finally noticed her hand bleeding again.

“Hey, your hand,” he said sharply. “Sit down. Let me get the bandages.”

He moved to the back shelf without waiting for permission, opening the old wooden drawer where she used to keep supplies.

Annabelle blinked. “How did you know they were in there?”

Abel gave her a look. “I helped you organize this entire place, remember?”

She smiled, “ true how could I forget, you also helped me with fruits and other things to sell and taught me how to.

Maximus’s jaw flexed, he was frowning the whole time.

He stepped inside slowly, eyes scanning every object with something I couldn’t read at first.

Abel moved confidently, walking to a drawer beneath the counter. “You always kept your bandages here. You said it was closest to customers so you could grab them fast if they ever fainted.”

I remembered saying that.

A long time ago.

Abel pulled out the bandages clean, still wrapped , and walked toward me with them.

And that was the final spark.

Maximus stepped forward instantly, inserting himself between us.

“I’ll do it.”

Abel blinked. “Your majesty I only meant”

“I said I’ll do it.”

Abel drew back, jaw tightening.

Maximus took the bandage, his fingers brushing mine as he wrapped my hand with unexpected gentleness. He wasn’t glaring at my cut.

He was glaring at Abel.

Or rather…

Glaring at the invisible bond between Abel and me that he didn’t understand.

When he finished wrapping the wound, his voice came out too casual to be natural.

“You two seem… very familiar with each other.”

I stiffened.

Abel answered honestly. “Yes your majesty, we basically grew up together .”

Maximus’s eyes darkened more. “Clearly.”

Abel caught the shift in the king’s tone and stepped slightly back, giving us room.

But Maximus’s gaze stayed locked on mine.

“This place,” he said quietly, glancing around again. “I’ve never seen you look at anything the way you look at this shop.”

He wasn’t wrong.

“This was my home,” I said simply.

But that only fueled something possessive in him.

Possessive… and jealous.

Maximus stepped closer, voice soft but edged.

“It seems there are many things about you I don’t know, Annabelle.”

I met his eyes, steady and calm.

“And many things you’ll have to learn, your majesty.”

Abel stood near the doorway, watching, silent, protective, cautious, maybe a bit angry.

And for the first time…

I realized that the king might actually have fallen in love with this new me, the me that didn't care about his attention.

The way he glared at abel, I could tell that he didn't like how close Abel and I were

Abel and I have history.

A part of me the king couldn’t control.

And he hated it.