Chapter 31 Chapter thirty-one
Claus smiled softly, his eyes warm and full of that quiet, steady affection that once made me feel safe. Now it only made me sick.
“I was thinking the same,” he said. “It’s a good idea.”
I felt my breath catch in my throat. His words hung between us, light and harmless to him, but heavy enough to crush me. A good idea. That lie, Roger’s lie had wrapped itself neatly around Claus’s heart before I could tear it away.
My whole body went numb. The room felt smaller, suffocating, as though the walls leaned closer, hungry for the truth I couldn’t speak. I wanted to scream that it wasn’t true, that I never said those words, never agreed to any of this, but the moment I opened my mouth I’d look guilty. Suspicious. Exactly what Roger wanted.
Across from me, Roger’s victorious smirk glimmered like a blade in the firelight. His eyes met mine, taunting, gleeful, certain of his victory. And I couldn’t do anything. My tongue was heavy, my hands shaking under the table.
“Ellie?” Claus’s voice softened, filled with concern that burned like salt on a wound. “You look pale. Are you all right?”
“I’m fine,” I managed, forcing a small smile. It felt brittle on my lips, like glass that could shatter at any second.
He reached out to me, his thumb brushing over my knuckles. The tenderness in that simple gesture made my stomach twist. He believed in me, even when the truth was standing right in front of him, rotting in silence
Later that evening, Claus called for a meeting. Sylvia, Julian, and I gathered in the courtroom. The air smelled faintly of ink, parchment, and the faint smoke from the fireplace. I sat beside Claus as he reviewed the papers before him, his expression unreadable.
I could feel the tension in the room before he even spoke. Sylvia stood near the far end of the table, his hands folded tightly behind his back. Julian was beside him, watchful and still. Roger was absent, thank the gods.
When Claus reached for my hand, I didn’t resist. His fingers intertwined with mine, warm and firm, grounding me even as I felt myself slipping further away from him.
“I’ve made my decision,” he said finally, his voice calm, like a king addressing his court.
Sylvia’s gaze sharpened. He must have sensed it too, the finality in Claus’s tone.
“I want you and Julian to be married soon,” Claus said evenly.
The world tilted.
“It’s also Ellie’s wish,” he added.
My breath left me. My wish? The words slammed into me like ice water. I felt Sylvia’s eyes burn into me, confusion and heartbreak flickering across his face before he masked it with a rigid smile.
For a moment, I thought he would speak, he would challenge Claus, he would demand an explanation.but he didn’t. His throat worked as if he were swallowing a cry. Then, with a brittle calm that made my chest ache, he rose from his chair.
“I’ll… put it into consideration,” he muttered, the muscles in his jaw tight. He bowed stiffly and left the room, Julian following close behind.
The silence that followed was unbearable.
Claus squeezed my hand gently. “You did the right thing,” he murmured. “I know this isn’t easy, but it’s for the best. For all of us.”
I wanted to laugh, no, to scream. For the best? What best could come from a lie? But his sincerity cut me open. He truly believed he was protecting me, protecting everyone.
And so I nodded. Because that’s all I could do.
\---
After the meeting, I excused myself. I told him I was exhausted from the pregnancy. It wasn’t even a lie—I was exhausted, but not from my body. From the weight of silence, the chains of manipulation I couldn’t escape.
He kissed my forehead, brushed his thumb along my cheek, and whispered, “Rest, love.”
I smiled and turned away quickly before he could see the tears forming in my eyes. My steps down the hallway felt heavy, echoing in the dim corridors like slow, deliberate heartbeats. The castle was quiet, too quiet, as though it too held its breath, waiting for something to break.
When I reached my room, I let the door close softly behind me and sank onto the edge of the bed. My hands trembled against my lap. I pressed them over my belly, feeling the faint flutter beneath my palm—the child who would never know how much deceit surrounded its birth.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered into the silence. My tears fell freely now. “I’m so, so sorry.”
Because I wasn’t crying for myself. I was crying for Claus, for Sylvia, for the life that was unraveling before it even began.
And for the cruel, simple truth: I had no way to make anyone believe me anymore.
The night stretched on endlessly. I couldn’t sleep. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw Roger’s smirk, heard Claus’s soft voice repeating those words
"It’s also Ellie’s wish."
I didn’t know when exactly I began to feel the distance growing between Claus and me. Perhaps it had started long before tonight, before the lies and the accusations, before our love became something that needed defending. But now, sitting alone in the darkness, I could feel it completely. The space between us wasn’t just emotional, it was something physical, vast and cold, filled with secrets neither of us could undo.
Claus stayed back in the courtroom, reviewing the pack's monthly reports. he sit there, shoulders straight, brow furrowed in concentration.
A knock came at his door then, a soldier entering with a sealed letter.
there was confusion on his face as he accepted the letter, the way he’d test the seal with his thumb, cautious yet curious.
The soldier would bow low. “No sender, Your Majesty,” he’d say.
And he, open it carefully.
Inside, a single message, scrawled in an unfamiliar hand.
"Don’t believe everything. It might just be a setup to distract you from the truth."
It says.