Chapter 52
Chapter Fifty-Two
REIYANA
T he moment they stepped into the sunlight, heat wrapped around her, thick and unrelenting. Even beneath the swaying date palms, the air shimmered, waves of warmth rising from the sandstone path. The faintest breeze stirred her dress, but it offered little relief.
She tilted her lace parasol, adjusting the angle until delicate patterns of shadow danced across her skin. Beside her, Anna?s mirrored the motion with effortless grace, her poise untouched; any trace of the vulnerability she’d shown in the temple neatly tucked away.
The promenade bustled with life—temple-goers in flowing silks, merchants beckoning passersby, the scent of honeyed dates and spiced tea mingling with lingering incense from the temple.
Her gaze skimmed the crowd, her awareness keen even as she maintained an air of composure. The palace loomed in the distance, promising shade and cool stone, but the journey back stretched beneath the weight of the sun.
Then—just beyond the shifting blur of colours—she caught a flash of copper beneath a dark hood. Someone familiar vanishing and reappearing as they weaved through the crowd .
She froze, breath catching.
Castiel?
“Princess?” Anna?s’s voice cut through the haze, but she barely heard it. Already, she was untangling her arm from her companion’s grip, stepping forward, her eyes locked on the disappearing figure.
Anna?s’s faint protest barely registered. “What’s the matter?”
Reiya brushed her off, parasol slipping from her fingers. The din of the street swelled as she quickened her pace, the voices of merchants and passersby blending into a murmur at the edge of her focus.
She pushed past a pair of camels blocking the path, their low groans barely heard. Another glimpse—the same hooded figure turning a corner by a fruit cart, copper strands catching the sunlight like a beacon.
She called out before she could stop herself. “Castiel!”
Her pulse roared in her ears. Was it truly him? He dared show himself here, in public?
Logic whispered doubt, but instinct screamed louder.
Don’t lose him.
She rounded the corner sharply, slippers skidding on sunbaked stone. The figure was just ahead, slipping through the shadows. Reiya pushed forward, breath shallow, the distance between them closing?—
And then he was gone.
She slowed, her chest tight as her eyes darted through the alley—empty now, save for overturned crates and a torn canopy whispering in the breeze. No copper glint of hair. No trace of a hooded figure. Nothing.
Footsteps sounded behind her—measured, familiar.
“Princess?”
She turned sharply. Captain Marzius stood a few paces back, his sharp gaze already sweeping the alley, his stance taut and alert.
“Tell me what happened,” he said quietly, though his tone brooked no delay or evasion.
Reiya hesitated, heart still pounding. “I thought I saw Castiel Vaelmont.”
Marzius’s expression hardened.
“I only caught a glimpse—copper hair under a hood. I tried to follow, but—” her fists clenched, frustration biting at the edges of her voice—“I lost him.”
The captain studied her, his dark eyes steady, weighing. “You’re certain it was him?”
“No,” she admitted, jaw tight. “But I couldn’t risk doing nothing.”
A long pause stretched between them. Then Marzius gave a clipped nod that seemed like understanding.
“Lady Anna?s has been escorted back to the palace,” he told her. “The city is crowded today with temple-goers—we should return as well.”
As they moved, Marzius issued clipped orders to the soldiers waiting for him, sending them into the crowd to search for anyone matching Castiel’s description. The men bowed and disappeared swiftly into the throng.
He turned back to her. “We’ll increase patrols around the palace and double the guards at all key points. If Castiel Vaelmont is here, we’ll find him.”
Reiya exhaled slowly. “Thank you, Captain.”
Marzius inclined his head. They resumed their walk toward the palace. The promenade behind them buzzed with life, but unease coiled tightly in Reiya’s chest.
After a moment, she asked, “Do you think Castiel Vaelmont is truly here to cause harm?”
“I do not know him and thus cannot say,” Marzius replied. “But a man who moves in the shadows rather than through the front gates rarely comes with good intentions.”
His tone carried something deeper, as though Castiel was only part of the problem.
“My union with the princes was meant to bring stability,” she murmured. “But now, I wonder if I’ve brought danger instead.”
“Stability isn’t the absence of danger, Princess. The key is knowing where the threats lie before they strike.”
She caught his eyes straying toward the palace. “You think some in court see my presence as a threat.”
“Threat is one thing, opportunity another.” He paused, and lowered his voice. “And some certainly know when to move with the tide.”
Reiya’s steps slowed. “Are you referring to the Mezerins?”
He didn’t confirm, but he didn’t deny it either. His gaze swept the surroundings with quiet vigilance, as if expecting an ambush at every step.
She hesitated, her fingers curling. Why had he ordered Anna?s’s return to the palace? Had he noticed something she hadn’t?
Or was it simply caution—an unspoken warning that he didn’t trust Hassamir’s daughter roaming freely while Castiel was at large?
He murmured, “High Chancellor Hassamir does not move unless he sees value in it.”
“And Lady Anna?s?”
Something flickered in his gaze, but it was gone too quickly to name. “She was raised to understand the currents.”
She turned his words over in her mind. “If unrest can be exploited, would House Mezerin see it as an opportunity?”
“They have a knack for knowing which embers to stoke—and which flames to fan.”
“Would they go so far as to work with someone like Castiel?”
He didn’t answer immediately. “You glimpsed Castiel Vaelmont on the same day Lady Anna?s invited you into the city. That alone warrants consideration.”
A chill traced down her spine. “Would they truly risk destabilizing the kingdom? Destroy everything to climb higher?”
Marzius’s gaze darkened. “House Mezerin once ruled Asadia, long before House Asad. When their last Alpha line died out, power slipped through their fingers. Without Alphas, their influence waned, and my king’s ancestors rose in their place.
” His voice dipped lower. “They have not forgotten that loss. Nor have they stopped trying to reclaim what they see as their birthright.”
Reiya considered this carefully. It wasn’t just history—it was a wound that had never fully healed, a reminder that power was never truly secure. And if the Mezerins still harboured ambitions . . .
The captain exhaled sharply, as if brushing away the past, but his tone remained edged.
“It was a time of betrayal and bloodshed. Brother turned against brother, tearing Asadia apart. Provinces fell to ruin, left defenceless against famine and raiders. The youngest son—King Azarion’s grandfather—claimed the throne, but not without cost. He’d killed his brothers.
And the kingdom’s scars remained long after the war ended. ”
So the echoes of that war still lingered, not just in history, but in the tensions that simmered beneath the surface of Asadia’s court. Power was never seized without cost, and rarely was it relinquished without consequence.
“It must’ve been a dark time,” she murmured.
“A monarchy encourages heirs, but ambition paired with power breeds destruction. That war reshaped our royal traditions. To prevent such tragedy, the roles of royal brothers were divided—one to govern, one to command the army. If there were more princes, they would be delegated to other aspects of governance. But even divided, ambition can fester.”
His gaze flicked to hers, sharp. “That is why the bond between brothers is sacred in Asadia. Without it, peace crumbles.”
Reiya thought of Kaelen and Alarik—their playful bickering, their unspoken understanding, the fierce loyalty tethering them together. She’d sensed it from the beginning, but now she saw it for what it was: more than love, more than duty.
It was a safeguard. A foundation. A necessity.
His voice softened. “Your presence has strengthened that bond, Princess. The people see it too.” He hesitated, then added, “When rumours began about Lady Anna?s and the princes—” He stopped short, his expression unreadable.
She tilted her head. “They feared history would repeat itself.”
“Alphas are possessive by nature. The suggestion of discord over an Omega has the power to rattle the kingdom. It awakens old fears.” His voice cooled. “And Lady Anna?s . . . She is not blind to what can be achieved if the princes were at odds. Neither is her father.”
Her stomach twisted. She had suspected as much, but hearing it spoken aloud gave it weight she hadn’t been prepared for.
Marzius continued, “For a time, even I wondered if she was driving a wedge between them.” His eyes darkened slightly. “But whatever she intended, she didn’t succeed.”
She lowered her gaze as they continued walking. Kaelen and Alarik’s bond had withstood pressures she hadn’t fully realized. The weight of it rested on her shoulders, too—a delicate thread she hadn’t known she was holding.
As though the captain sensed her thoughts, he said, “The people saw your bond with the princes when you arrived. You’ve quelled those fears. Together, the three of you represent stability.”
She looked up, lips curving. “You flatter me, Captain. The princes would tell you I was stubborn to the point of defiance when it came to marriage.”
He chuckled. “I imagine the Tazahrin would call that your best quality.”
His tone was warm, but the gravity lingered.
Reiya exhaled slowly, her gaze steady. The danger wasn’t just whispers in the court or Anna?s’s careful games—it was the fragile balance she and the princes now walked, a balance that could shift with the smallest misstep.
But if the court was watching, so be it.
Let them see the bond they were shaping.