Chapter 135 A promise that existed only in words

Chapter 135 A promise that existed only in words
As those words landed, something sharp and violent spiked deep inside William. It was a sensation he couldn't explain or understand. In all his immortal life, no one had ever shunned him or pushed him away like that. The only people who had ever dared to dismiss him with such a cold manner were his enemies, which he didn't care about.

Yet here he sat, utterly frozen by her quiet whisper. The fact that her voice carried no anger somehow made it worse. His pride fought against the strong feeling of helplessness. He wanted her to understand him, to know he would do anything to protect her. He wanted to tear down the walls she had built around herself. But the fear of making her condition worse held him back

Before the silence could stretch any further, the sharp buzz of William's phone broke the stillness. His jaw clenched as he pulled the device from his pocket. His gaze fell across the name flashing across the screen.

Gideon.

He slid the button across and pulled it to his ear. He listened in silence to the urgent voice on the other end, then ended the call without uttering a single word.

He paused, staring down at her one last time. He wanted to protect her and make her see that their six-month deal did not matter compared to her life. But he wanted to respect her wish for space, so he said no other word and walked out, giving her the space she needed.

The moment the door closed, Anastasia let out a deep breath. She held her blanket tight against her chest. She felt utterly alone. She was the one who told him to leave, but his departure left a cold ache in her heart. She was tired of him putting her in the dark and tired of feeling like he was just tolerating her. Most of all, it hurt that he remained silent about the princess.

She closed her eyes to try to sleep and escape her sad thoughts, because the stress was too much for her weak body.

After moments that felt like a long time, her doorbell rang. Morgana entered the room and walked straight to her bed. She looked down at Anastasia, seeing the tight line of her jaw.

“What is it?" Morgana asked softly.

"He left,” Anastasia burst out crying.

All the walls she had built up to protect her pride came crashing down. She felt so small in the big bed. Morgana quickly sat beside her, pulling her in a warm hug. She stroked her hair and spoke to her in a low, soothing voice. Morgana gave her the soft comfort she had been starved of by William, letting the poor granddaughter sob against her shoulder.

“Listen to me, Anastasia," Morgana said quietly, rubbing her back. “William agreeing to your wishes is already a blessing. He is a King. He has been one all his life. Whether he was on the throne or not. He never listens to anyone. People offer their services to him, without asking anything in return. Now that he has got busy with his duties, you have understood that he has a whole lot of things to carry. His silence isn't always because he doesn't care. But I know you are his priority in all he does. I just want you to understand him a bit.”

Instead of comforting her, those words only made Anastasia's internal anger burn hotter. ‘Why did everyone always make excuses for him? Why did his duties always have to come at the expense of her feelings?’

“He should not have accepted in the first place!" Anastasia snapped, pulling away from the hug. Her chest heaved. “If he really cared about me, he would stay nevertheless. Even if I asked him to go, right? He would have forced me to listen. Instead, he just took the easy way out. He didn't even tell me where he had been for three weeks.”

Her thoughts were tearing her apart. She was furious at William for leaving, but she was even more furious at herself for caring so much. She hated how a simple closed door could control her entire world. She felt like a temporary object in his long, grand life, a little human girl playing a game she was bound to lose. This deep hurt finally turned into anger. She looked down at the heavy wooden pendant around her neck.

“I'm tired of hiding," Anastasia said, her voice shaking with rage. “I don't even know why I have to wear things anymore. To protect myself so the enemies would not find me? To hide my human smell from the world? I am done.”

Morgana sighed, her eyes full of pity. She knew she could not fix this deep emotional tear with simple words. She spent the rest of the afternoon sitting by the bed, taking care of her granddaughter, watching as the girl's pale skin grew tighter with stress.

Anastasia was resting her head on Morgana's shoulder, when she spoke. “You don't have to keep the pendant anymore,” she said. Anastasia raised her head and looked at Morgana. “You've already been found by the enemies. That's what the pendant is for, so there's no reason to keep it now.”

Her hand stayed on the huge moon pendant on her neck. She wanted to remove it. She knew she did. But it didn't feel right. It felt like it belonged there. It had been with her since birth, and taking it off felt wrong, even though she was angry.

By evening, Morgana had left to let her rest. Anastasia lay in the quiet room, her heart aching with a deep, hollow loneliness. Suddenly, her phone buzzed on the nightstand. It was a text from Morgana.

“You should dress well tonight. Lord Liam will be at dinner. And the princess too.”

She stared at the screen, and her breath caught. A wave of bitter panic hit her. Her mind immediately went into a fierce battle. Part of her wanted to put on the most beautiful dress she owned, to paint a perfect smile on her face, and show William that his absence did not break her. She wanted to hurt his pride the way he had hurt hers, and show his little princess that she was queen in her own place. But another part of her felt deeply humiliated. Why was she forcing her failing, dying body to get up and play a part for a man who kept secrets from her? The thought of seeing him acting like a cold stranger while the ghost of the princess hung over them, made her stomach turn.

She forced herself out of bed. She walked to the closet, every dress felt like heavy armor she didn't want to wear. She knew Aeliana would be there, judging the human girl who captured the whole king's attention.

“I am that little girl to him,” she whispered bitterly to the mirror. Her reflection looked pale and fragile, but her eyes were sharp with anger. She forced herself to breathe slowly, trying to calm the emotional storm inside her chest before her body broke under the stress and triggered another nosebleed. She would go to dinner and look perfect. She would not let him, not the princess, see her fall.

When Anastasia arrived at the dinner hall, she walked toward the table. Aeliana was sitting beside William where she was supposed to be sitting. She swallowed hard and exhaled, then noticed Aeliana's outfit, and glanced down at her outfit. She had chosen a flared white gown, hoping to look confident and elegant. But the moment she saw Princess Aeliana, regret hit her heart. Suddenly she felt out of place, as though she had dressed up for the wrong occasion.

At the table were Zevrak, Selvara, Morgana and Aeliana and William. It was an official dinner organized mainly to welcome princess Aeliana into the human world.

Princess Aeliana dressed beautifully, looking every bit like the true royal she was. Her gown was flawless, and her posture was perfect like she had been trained all her life to behave like that. But what hurt Anastasia the most was how Aeliana acted. The princess was doing everything in her power to show the room that William would do her bidding. To Anastasia, every touch and every sweet smile was a public claim on him.

The worst part for her was the crushing realization that it was true. William sat there, letting it happen, without considering her feelings.

Anastasia felt a heavy weight press down on her lungs. Her pride screamed at her to turn around and run, to hide her failing body from this public humiliation. She hated how weak she felt, not just from her illness, but from the raw jealousy and betrayal burning in her veins. She was just a human girl destined to die so William could reclaim his full power and reign again. I'm return, he had agreed to a six-month relationship to date her that existed only in words, while Aeliana belonged to his eternal, immortal world.

As they sat at the dinner table, tension in the air grew heavier. Princess Aeliana wore a sweet smile, but deliberately knocked over her glass, sending red wine spilling across Anastasia's white gown.

Aeliana immediately gasped and covered her mouth with one hand. “Oh, Anastasia, I'm sorry. It was a mistake," she said, her voice full of false innocence. “But then again, you really should have sat at the far end of the table."

The red stain looked exactly like blood on her gown. Anger surged through her, followed by the familiar frustration she had been experiencing since morning. She tightened her grip on her fork until her knuckles whitened. She wanted to expose Aeliana's act in front of everyone, but her pride kept her silent.

“You're sitting in my place, princess," Anastasia muttered, her voice low and sharp. “I'm not even complaining. Perhaps you should watch your own hands instead of watching my position."

Aeliana's eyes filled with tears. She leaned back in her seat, trying to look small.

"Lord Liam… I didn't mean to," she said, her voice shaking as she looked toward William. “She's been staring at me with so much hatred all evening. I feel threatened.”

Zevrak and Selvara exchanged looks, while Morgana's jaws were tightening, as though she were one insult away from turning the princess into a frog.

William's jaw tightened. He looked at the spilled wine, then at Aeliana's tears, and finally at Anastasia. He was already under the pressure of Anastasia ignoring him, and Aeliana was not making things easy for him.

He had noticed Aeliana's hidden smirk. He knew she was the one causing trouble. But one wrong move against Aeliana would be seen as an insult to her father.

“Anastasia, that's enough," William said, his voice even.

Anastasia looked at him, and it felt like something inside her broke. The way he snapped at her hit her harder than any physical pain, for taking Aeliana's side. He believed she was the problem, even while she struggled just to hold herself together.

“Go inside and change your dress, Anastasia," William ordered, his voice hard.

She stood up so fast her chair screeched against the floor. The humiliation was clear for everyone to see. Every eye at the table was on her, watching her like a misbehaving child, or so she thought. She said nothing.

“Come here," Morgana said softly, after looking away from from Aeliana and turned to Anastasia.

Anastasia gathered the stained fabric of her white gown and walked straight to the elevator. Angry tears rushed down her pale cheeks.

Morgana followed after her.

That same night, William walked into Anastasia's room. She had just finished showering and was pulling on her nightgown. Her body felt cold and exhausted, but the moment the door opened, her heart skipped a beat. A wave of nervous energy rushed through her. She wanted to ignore him, to turn away and pretend he wasn't there, but she couldn't.
She had so many questions burning inside her. She wanted to ask him about the princess, why he had blamed her at the table, and if their deal meant anything to him at all. But as she sat on the side of the bed, she realized tonight was not like other nights. He didn't move toward the bed. He wasn't there to sleep.

William stood right in front of her, his tall figure casting a long shadow in the dim light. His face was a mask of cold stone.

“Can you just tolerate her until she is gone without causing drama?" he asked. His voice was even, lacking any warmth or hesitation.

Anastasia's eyes flew to his face. Her jaw clenched, her chest tightening so much it felt like physical pain. In an instant, all the questions she had been preparing vanished from her mind. Her brain became blurry. The shock that swept through her felt like physical blow. She couldn't understand why he was asking her this, why he was protecting the princess over her, but it was the very first time he had ever asked her for something.
Her pride clashed with her need for his approval, leaving her unsettled.

She gave a small nod, her throat tight. “Sure,” she whispered. "Why not?"