Vesteria Castle
–
"I'm certain you already know why I called this gathering," the king said calmly.
Beside him, Lord Edward sat with his usual charming smile, the kind that never quite reached his eyes.
Next to Edward was Catherine, her gaze frozen on the lavish spread before them—as if the gleam of silverware and roasted pheasant could distract her from the truth.
Across the table sat Queen Aleera and Meredith, both silent, their expressions unreadable.
A cold breeze slipped in through the open window, and with it, a hush seemed to settle over the room. Even the candle flames flickered more quietly, as if they too sensed the weight of the moment.
Catherine's shoulders dipped. She didn't need to guess. She knew exactly why this dinner had been arranged—and exactly why Lord Edward was sitting so close.
"Are you listening, Catherine?"
King Alaric's voice cut through her spiraling thoughts.
She looked up, blinking. Her brows furrowed as she met his gaze.
Today of all days, Ellory had styled her hair into a neat bun-ponytail, letting soft chestnut strands fall at the sides—as if dressing her up could change how she felt.
As if hiding her unhappiness was still possible.
"Yes, Father," she murmured, her voice barely more than a breath.
"Let's give her a moment to think it through," Lord Edward said, flashing his usual charming smile toward Catherine. "And enjoy the food while it's still hot."
Catherine blinked. He was smiling—at her. Why?
Her heart skipped. What had her father said that she hadn't heard?
"You should eat, Princess. You're far too thin", Lord Edward shook his head with mock concern.
Catherine quickly looked away.
There he was—playing the gentleman, wearing that effortless charm like a mask. Yet just minutes ago, she'd heard him whisper to her father… whisper about destroying a kingdom. About crushing its people.
Who exactly was he?
A loud hmph broke through the tension.
Catherine looked up. Meredith. Her sister's gaze was lowered, brown hair spilling like a curtain over one shoulder.
Catherine's eyes shifted to Queen Aleera.
The Queen's glare met hers—sharp, hot, and unblinking.
Was Meredith… truly upset?
"Let's eat and get this discussion over with," said Queen Aleera, her tone clipped.
The soft clinking of cutlery filled the room, a forced rhythm in the uneasy silence.
Catherine turned, catching Lord Edward mid-bite. He was eating a portion of roasted pheasant, garnished with brightly colored vegetables and spices—completely at ease.
Everyone else slowly followed. Even Queen Aleera, who usually spoke her mind, remained strangely silent tonight.
"Eat, Catherine", The King's voice cut through the silence like a blade.
She flinched.
Catherine closed her eyes, breathing in deeply, her chest rising and falling as she tried to steady herself. When she opened them again, she caught Lord Edward casually placing a piece of peasant on her plate of rice.
He looked up—and winked.
Her stomach turned.
Something wasn't right.
Finally, her voice found its way out, "What is going on, Father?"
King Alaric didn't hesitate, "You must marry Lord Edward."
A beat of stunned silence. Then—
Clink.
The soft click of a fork against a glass mug echoed from Meredith, who stared down at the table like it held a secret.
"What?", Catherine shoved her chair back and stood, her voice rising, "You can't choose a husband for me!"
King Alaric calmly scooped a portion of avocado into his mouth and chewed, not sparing her a glance.
"Father!" she snapped.
His voice boomed across the table, "Sit down."
It wasn't loud—but it was sharp. Heavy. A command threaded with authority strong enough to make your knees buckle.
Catherine gripped the edge of her dress. Her fingers trembled.
But slowly, she forced herself to sit.
"You will marry whoever I choose," the King said, eyes fixed on her. "And that man is Lord Edward."
Lord Edward's lips curled as he popped another piece of peasant into his mouth, this one glistening with butter and steam.
"George died, and then you threw some ball like my feelings didn't matter!" she snapped, her voice rising, no longer caring that it was her father she spoke to.
"That ball," the King said, lifting his fork toward her—a gesture that felt more like a warning than anything else, "was your opportunity. A chance to choose for yourself. But you didn't. And the kingdom will not wait."
"She danced with two men," Meredith said softly.
All eyes turned to her.
She didn't look up. Her gaze remained on the glass mug before her, its surface catching her reflection in the flickering candlelight.
"Perhaps she could tell us who he is," Meredith continued, her voice calm. "If she refuses Lord Edward, then it must be the mysterious man she favors."
Lord Edward's eyes narrowed. His grip tightened around his fork.
"Well, if that's true," Queen Aleera said, her voice calm but firm. She gently squeezed Meredith's hand, though her gaze remained fixed on the King. "Then may we ask about the other gentleman she danced with?"
"Lord Edward," King Alaric snapped, "is the man I have chosen to sit on the throne."
"Father," Meredith lifted her head, eyes glistening, "can't you see? Catherine has no desire to sit on the throne."
"My King," the Queen interjected, her tone measured, "if Lord Edward marries Meredith, he would still become part of the royal family."
Catherine rolled her eyes.
Beside her, Lord Edward's lips twitched into a smirk as he returned to his food.
"I've made my final decision," the King said coldly. "The royal family will begin preparations for the wedding."
"Might we give her time to think this over, My King?" Lord Edward asked, voice smooth and charming. He turned to Catherine, blue eyes alight with feigned concern. "I won't force you into anything against your will."
He smiled, then reached for her gloved hand, brushing his fingers along it, "But you must understand, Princess… this is for the best."
"He is the man who can protect you," the King added, "and protect this kingdom."
Catherine snatched her hand away, her gaze sharp on Edward as she scoffed.
"Protect this kingdom from what, exactly?"
The sharp scrape of a chair broke the tension, pulling everyone's eyes to Meredith.
She had pushed her chair back and was now standing, her watery gaze fixed on the invisible line between Catherine's seat and Lord Edward's.
"She's feeling dizzy. I'll take her to bed," Queen Aleera said, rising with calm urgency.
"Very well," the King replied, still not sparing them a glance.
Meredith's shoulders slumped as she turned. But not before sending Catherine a pointed glare—one Catherine caught and held.
Then she stormed out, the Queen hurrying after her.
"You are my one true daughter, Catherine," King Alaric said, his eyes smoky and unyielding. "I lost your mother under mysterious circumstances. I cannot lose you too."
He stood and dabbed his mouth with a napkin. When he set it down, his gaze locked onto hers.
"You will not bleed in grief and drown. When danger comes, Lord Edward will be the one to save you. To save Vesteria."
With that, he turned and walked away, leaving the room in heavy silence.
Now, only Lord Edward remained.
Catherine turned her head quickly, avoiding his eyes as she rose from her seat. But he stood too—and caught her wrist before she could escape.
She looked up at him, voice barely a whisper, "What are you doing?"
A sudden gust of wind whooshed through the room, rattling the candle flames and sending a chill through the air. The light flickered for a breathless moment.
But Catherine didn't look away.
Even with the shift in the room's energy, even as the signs around her stirred—her eyes stayed fixed on him.
Then Lord Edward's expression changed.
His eyes narrowed, "There's something strange in your eyes… like someone else is watching me."