Chapter 165
Elena’s POV
Later that night, I returned to the room I had been allotted since moving into Deacon’s place and took a rest.
After we took Rafael back from his grandparents‘ pack, we decided that staying here would be much more convenient and practical. First, being here would be a lot of hassle while handling the touch–up for our wedding, and most importantly, it would help Rafael to adjust better since he’d be staying here after our marriage.
But of course, since Deacon and I weren’t officially married yet, staying in different rooms was the better choice.
It also gave me a quiet time to think things through, like today.
Deacon’s confession lingered even after I closed my eyes, making me sleepless as his words echoed in my head over and over again.
That’s a confession, right?
It wasn’t grand or anything. It wasn’t even straight to the point. He didn’t say he loved me or anything. But his words that marrying me was his choice and it’s et something he’d regret gave me a fuzzy, warm feeling I couldn’t deny.
Although he steps down from his post as a general, which still doesn’t sit well with me, even if it wasn’t forced, I can still sense the weight beneath his tone.
The sadness and pain that he hides. He might not regret it, but I know for a fact that it hurts.
All through the night, the gears kept turning in my head, and before I knew it, morning had arrived, and sunlight was filtering through my bedroom window.
Taking a deep breath, I stood up and looked at myself in the window with determination as I finally decided to let the matter rest. It was, after all, what’s best for both of us. For all of us.
Deacon had chosen me–whether by duty or desire, I would never know for sure–but his steady presence at my side was enough.
With barely any sleep, I went down the stairs and started the day in peace. The first thing I did was grab breakfast before going straight to Rafael’s room.
I knocked before peaking inside. “You awake, kid?”
He rushed up to my side, happily. “I’m bored, Aunt Elena.”
A huge smile spread across my lips at his cuteness. Messing with his head with my hand, I pulled him out. “Oh, no, that’s a real problem.”
“It is!”
I laughed and nodded my head. “Alright, then. How about we have some fresh air in the garden?”
With that, we went straight to the garden, me watching behind him as he enjoyed the place. His curious hands reaching out to grab at anything that caught his eye–flowers, stones, even the hem of my dress.
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Chapter 165
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Now and then, he’d look back at me and show some of the things he found interesting
His laughter was the kind that eased every tight knot in my chest,
“Slow down,” I teased as he darted toward a low bush. He glanced back at me with that mischievous smile that made him look so much like my brother.
It was in that moment, watching him, that I felt a flicker of something warm–a fragile kind of hope. For all the battles I had fought to stand where I was now, for all the sacrifices and scars, life still had these small, perfect
moments.
We returned indoors for lunch. Rafael sat between Deacon and me, clapping his hands when the servant brought in a tray of candied fruits. He reached eagerly for one, his tiny fingers sticky with sugar as he pressed it to his lips.
I was laughing at his antics when it happened.
The sound left me first–a sudden silence, broken only by the sharp clatter of the porcelain dish slipping from his hands. His face drained of colour, his smile crumbling. I froze as his little body swayed, then slumped sideways against the cushions.
“What’s happening?” My voice trembled with panic as I reached for him. His lips had turned a faint bluish hue, and his eyes rolled back.
“No,” I whispered, rushing forward. My heart slammed against my ribs, louder than my words. “No, no, no- someone fetch the pack doctor! Now!”
The servants scrambled, their footsteps echoing through the hall, but all I could focus on was the child lying motionless in my arms. His skin burned hot beneath my fingers, yet his breathing came shallow and strained.
This wasn’t just a fever. No, it’s way too sudden to be a normal flu.
I pressed my palm against his chest, as if sheer willpower could steady his frantic heartbeat. My hands shook, but I forced myself to keep calm, to think. My mind rifled through every lesson my master had ever taught me about medicine, every tale of strange illnesses I had heard whispered through the kingdom.
Poison.
The thought struck like lightning. Again? It can’t be…
But how? He had only eaten the fruit, candied and prepared by the kitchen. My breath caught as dread settled deeper. This wasn’t a chance. It couldn’t be.
By the time the doctor arrived, my clothes were already stained with the remnants of the sweets I had tried desperately to clear from his mouth. The doctor examined Rafael swiftly, his brows knitting together as he uncorked a small vial of antidote from his satchel.
“It’s poison,” he confirmed grimly, echoing the word that had already lodged like a stone in my throat. “But mild enough to have been hidden in food.”
His eyes shifted cautiously between Deacon and me before reporting, “I’m afraid someone intended this.”
My blood turned cold.
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I couldn’t speak as the doctor worked, forcing drops of the antidote past my nephew’s lips, massaging his throat until he swallowed.
Deacon stood by our side, holding me in his arms as he kept me from breaking down.
Meanwhile, I held Rafael’s small hand through it all, silently begging him to stay with us. Each shallow breath was a knife twisting deeper into me. I had fought enemies in court, endured humiliation, even bled for survival -but none of it compared to the terror of watching an innocent child suffer.
Once the emergency antidote was given, he was brought to the infirmary for more tests and recovery.
After what felt like hours, his breathing began to steady. Colour returned faintly to his cheeks, his tiny fingers twitching against mine. Relief surged through me so fiercely that tears spilt before I could stop them.
“He will recover,” the doctor said on his second round in the infirmary after he put an IV drip on Rafael, though his expression remained grave. “But this was deliberate. You must be cautious. Whoever sought to harm him may not stop here.”
His words carved through my relief like ice.
I looked at Rafael, still unconscious but alive, and my chest tightened painfully. He was just a child–he had no enemies, no schemes, no power to threaten anyone. So why him?
Unless…
A darker thought crept in on me, one I didn’t want to v unlessless this wasn’t about him at all, unless he was simply the easiest way to strike at me.
I sat back, my hands trembling in my lap as I felt the lump forming in my throat, fear making my stomach churn.
Deacon and I must sort this through.
As I watched his chest rise and fall with each fragile breath, a silent promise formed in my heart.
Whoever dared to touch him–whateverer thought to wound my family to get to me–me would regret it.
And I would make certain of it.
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