Chapter 42
· Aubrey ·
Max’s soft snores fill the quiet of his room as I gently pull the blanket up over his small shoulders.
His toy soldier is still clutched tightly in his hand, even in sleep, his little fingers curled protectively around it.
His cheeks are streaked with the remnants of tears, and his eyelashes are still damp.
My heart clenches as I lean down to press a kiss to his temple.
“I’m so sorry, sweetheart,” I whisper, my voice barely audible, afraid to disturb the fragile peace of his sleep. He shifts slightly, nuzzling into his pillow, and I smooth a hand over his dark curls before standing.
The soft light from his bedside lamp casts a warm glow over the room, but it feels heavy in here.
Suffocating, almost. As if the weight of everything that just happened still lingers, curling in the corners like shadows.
I flick off the lamp and quietly slip out, leaving the door cracked just enough to hear him if he calls out in the night.
The hallways are silent as I make my way back to our room. My bare feet make no sound on the cool stone floor, but my mind is anything but quiet. I can still hear Max’s desperate sobs, his cries for Soren not to hurt Mavis. The memory makes my chest ache.
I push open the door to our room and step inside, closing it softly behind me. The dim light from the bedside lamp illuminates Soren sitting on the edge of the bed, his broad shoulders hunched, his head in his hands. His usually commanding presence is gone, replaced by a man who looks… broken.
The sight of him like this sends a pang of sadness through me. Soren, who always seems so unshakable, so strong, looks like he’s carrying the weight of the entire world—and in many ways, he is.
I move toward him quietly, my feet barely making a sound against the plush carpet. He doesn’t look up as I approach, his fingers digging into his hair, his elbows braced on his knees. His entire posture screams off for the man I know, and it breaks something inside me to see him like this.
Reaching out, I run my fingers gently through his hair, letting my nails scrape lightly against his scalp. His entire body tenses under my touch, his shoulders stiffening as if he’s trying to hold himself together.
“Soren,” I whisper softly.
He slowly lifts his head, and when his eyes meet mine, my breath catches.
I’ve never seen him like this. His blue eyes, usually so clear and focused, are rimmed red, glassy with unshed tears.
His jaw is tight, his lips pressed into a thin line.
The way he’s looking at me—like he’s barely holding himself together—makes my heart ache.
Before I can say anything, he reaches for me, his hands gripping my waist as he pulls me into him. His arms wrap around me tightly, and his face buries into my chest as he finally breaks.
A harsh, guttural sob tears from his throat, and I feel his entire body shake against me. My arms move, wrapping around his shoulders as I hold him close. My fingers continue to comb through his hair, and I rest my chin lightly on top of his head, whispering words I’m not even sure he can hear.
His grip on me tightens, as if he’s afraid I’ll disappear if he lets go. His tears soak into the fabric of my shirt, but I don’t care. All I care about is him, about being here for him when he needs me.
“You couldn’t have known,” I tell him.
“She… she killed herself,” he chokes out finally, his voice muffled against me.
I freeze, the weight of his words hitting me like a physical blow. “Mavis?” I whisper, pulling back slightly to peek down at him.
He nods, his face still pressed against me. “She said she loved me and couldn’t let her death be on my conscience,” his voice cracks, and he shakes his head, his fingers digging into my hips.
“Oh, Soren,” I breathe, my heart breaking for him.
He pulls back just enough to peer up at me, his face a mix of anguish and guilt.
“She said she didn’t realize what she’d done.
But it doesn’t matter, does it? Whether she knew or not, she let him in and still helped them.
She betrayed Jacinta. She betrayed Max…” He trails off, his voice thick with emotion.
“You didn’t have a choice,” I tell him firmly, cupping his face in my hands. “Soren, look at me.”
His eyes meet mine, and I see the torment there, the self-loathing he’s trying so hard to hide.
“You did what you had to do to protect your staff, to protect your family,” I say, my voice steady. “She made her choices, Soren. Not you. This isn’t your fault.”
He shakes his head, his jaw clenching. “She helped raise Max. She was a part of this family, Aubrey. It feels wrong. Jacinta loved her, Max loved her, everyone did. They all saw, all of them. Mary may never forgive me.”
I kneel in front of him, taking his hands in mine.
“She’s gone because she made a terrible mistake, and she knew that.
She just made sure you didn’t live with the consequences of killing her,” I say gently.
“You’ve done everything possible to protect this kingdom, Soren.
And sometimes that means making impossible choices. But you did the right thing.”
His eyes search mine. Slowly, he nods, but I can see the weight of it all still pressing down on him.
I lean forward, pressing lips to his forehead.
“Max won’t forgive me.”
“I think that is the main reason she did it; it wasn’t just for you, it was for everyone here. She was atoning for what she did.”
His arms wrap around me again, pulling me close, and I let him hold me, let him draw whatever comfort he can from me.
· · ·
The next day
The castle feels quieter than usual today, though it’s anything but peaceful. It’s the kind of quiet that hums with tension, where every creak and every distant sound feels amplified, stretching the silence even further.
Max didn’t take the news about Mavis well, and I don’t blame him.
He adored her, trusted her, and to find out she betrayed all of us—it shattered something inside him.
He spent most of the morning locked in his room, refusing to come out.
When I tried to comfort him, he turned away, clutching his stuffed wolf close to his chest.
Maribel finally coaxed him out. The two of them have been playing quietly in the garden under the watchful eyes of the guards.
I stood by the window earlier, watching them.
Max’s laughter is still missing, his usual sparkle dimmed.
Even from this distance, I could see the heaviness in his little shoulders, the way his movements were slower, like he was just playing for Maribel’s sake and to make everyone leave him alone.
It breaks my heart.
The weight of what happened lingers in the castle, the staff are quiet going about their chores but barely talking like they usually do.
Soren threw himself into the wedding preparations as soon as the sun rose, barking orders and double-checking every detail.
I know it’s his way of coping—of focusing his energy on something he can control—but I can see the strain on his face, the way his jaw tightens when he thinks no one is looking.
He hasn’t spoken about Mavis since last night.
Not to me, not to Damian, not to anyone.
And while I want to push him, to tell him he doesn’t have to carry it alone, I also know Soren well enough to understand he doesn’t want that.
It will take time to process, time to grieve, time to bury the guilt I know is eating away at him.
And then there’s tomorrow.
Our wedding day.
The thought fills me with a strange mix of emotions—excitement, anticipation, nerves. And sadness. Because as much as I want to focus on the joy of marrying the man I love, the man I was always meant to be with, there’s an ache in my chest I can’t ignore.
My father won’t be there.
Soren called the hospital this morning. He finally got through to my mother after days of trying, and she promised to be here tomorrow before the ceremony. I’m relieved, of course. I want her here, need her here. But when he asked about my father, the answer was the same as it’s been for weeks.
He’s still in a coma from some infection after his operation.
I sit on the edge of my bed, staring at my hands as I twist the thin gold bracelet around my wrist. My vision blurs as tears well up, and I blink rapidly, trying to push them back.
I’ve always dreamed of this day. Of walking down the aisle in a beautiful dress, my father’s arm looped through mine as he gives me away to the man who would spend the rest of his life loving me.
My father hated Rhett—he never approved of him. I thought he was being overprotective, too stubborn to let me make my own choices… now I realize he was only trying to protect me.
And now, when I’m finally marrying the man of my dreams, a man he would have approved of, the man who treats me with the respect and love I deserve… he’s not here.
My throat tightens, and a tear slips down my cheek, trailing hot and heavy over my skin. I swipe it away angrily, frustrated at myself for letting the sadness take hold, it’s selfish given the circumstances when an entire castle is mourning. I should be happy. I am happy.
The door creaks open softly, and I peer up to see Soren stepping into the room. He’s still in his suit from the day’s preparations, though his tie is loosened, and the sleeves of his shirt are rolled up to his elbows. There’s a weariness in his eyes, but when he sees me, his expression softens.
“Hey,” he says gently, closing the door behind him. “You’ve been quiet all afternoon. Are you okay?”
I force a small smile, even though my chest feels like it’s caving in. “Just thinking.”
He crosses the room in a few long strides, sitting beside me on the bed. His hand finds mine, warm and steady, and he squeezes it lightly. “About tomorrow?”
I nod, swallowing the lump in my throat. “And about my dad.” My voice cracks, and I hate how weak I sound, but I can’t help it. “He should be here, Soren. He should be the one to walk me down the aisle, to see me with someone who loves and respects me.”
Soren doesn’t say anything right away. He just pulls me into his arms, holding me tightly against his chest. His chin rests on the top of my head, and I can feel the steady beat of his heart against my ear.
“I know I’m being stupid with everything going on, I just never realized how much I wanted him here.
With Rhett, I think that is also why I kept pushing the wedding back, changing the details, thinking he would come around.
He didn’t, and now I have you and once again he won’t be here for my wedding. ”
“I wish he could be here, too,” he says softly. “I know how much he means to you, but your mother will be here.”
Tears spill over. I pull back slightly, wiping at my face with the back of my hand. “Sorry,” I mumble, embarrassed by my outburst.
“Don’t apologize.” Soren brushes a stray tear from my cheek with his thumb. “You don’t have to hide how you’re feeling, Aubrey. Not with me.”
I take a shaky breath, trying to calm myself. “I just… I want him to see me happy. To know I finally found someone who loves me.”
“He knows,” Soren says quietly, his eyes filled with certainty. “He might not be here in person, but he knows.”
I nod, clutching his hand tightly in mine. “Now you better get downstairs, my mother is about to pitch a fit at the designers because they moved her archway.” he chuckles. I sigh and get to my feet.