Chapter 26
The journey back to the palace was miserable.
It was not only because of the rough road, though that certainly did not help, but because being trapped inside a moving carriage with the person who had just betrayed me felt like a uniquely creative form of punishment.
Rhaevan tried to explain himself several times, but I shut down every attempt with efficient and consistent refusal.
If I was going to be dragged back into a life I had fought to escape, I was determined to remain difficult about it.
The knights suffered, Rhaevan suffered, and most of all, I suffered.
At first, I refused food out of principle, anger, and sheer stubbornness. But after a deeply humbling internal negotiation with my own stomach, I accepted defeat, ate in silence, and resumed glaring at everyone involved.
Dignity, once damaged, could still be partially restored through selective hostility.
Two long days later, we reached the palace.
Of course we did.
Rhaevan stepped out first, composed as ever, as if this were a routine return rather than the beginning of disaster, and then he turned and offered me his hand.
I ignored it, naturally.
I stepped down on my own and immediately regretted it when the gown snagged beneath my foot and nearly sent me tumbling forward.
Before I could collide with the ground and lose whatever remained of my dignity, a firm and certain hand caught me.
Rhaevan steadied me easily, one arm around my waist.
"Careful," he said quietly.
I shoved him away at once, neither gently nor politely.
"I do not need your help."
A flicker crossed his face, but he stepped back without argument.
Good, that made things easier.
A man cleared his throat nearby, and I turned toward him.
"Greetings, High Arcanist Rhaevan Aetheris and Lady Cassiane Valerith Ardentia. I am Minister Christopher Lewis Arden. His Majesty King Alaric Eryndor and Her Highness Princess Lysenne Eryndor await your presence."
Wonderful, a family reunion, exactly what I did not want.
We followed him through the palace, where nothing had changed and everything remained polished, pristine, and unbearably cold.
The palace looked exactly as I remembered, perfect on the outside and emotionally constipated on the inside.
We entered the royal hall, where King Alaric sat at the far end, every bit as imposing as memory suggested, with silver threading through his dark hair and sharp, unreadable green eyes.
Beside him stood Lysenne, elegant, composed, and radiant in the effortless way people born into privilege often were.
She belonged here, and I did not, and that much had not changed.
Lysenne stepped forward first.
"Greetings," she said gently. "I am Princess Lysenne Alaric Eryndor, firstborn of Eryndor. Thank you for coming."
Then she turned toward Rhaevan and smiled.
"Hey, Rey."
He smiled back with irritating ease.
"Hey, Senna."
I stared.
Ah, there it was, the romance subplot, which meant the original story had survived after all.
That explained the pet names, and it also made something inside me sour further, especially since he had the audacity to give me one too.
Damn, what a menace.
Lysenne turned back to me, and there was real kindness in her expression, which somehow irritated me even more.
"I know this must feel sudden," she began carefully, "and I understand you may be confused about why you were brought here."
Confused? No. Angry, yes. Betrayed, certainly. Confused, not particularly.
She continued.
"You were not brought to the palace out of charity, nor were you hidden away as an orphan under royal protection."
I felt it immediately, the explanation unfolding as though she expected revelation and shock.
Lysenne took another breath.
"You are not just someone connected to this kingdom, Lady Cassiane. You are-"
"His daughter."
My voice cut through the hall.
Lysenne stopped, Rhaevan went still, and even the king looked up.
I held her gaze.
"Yes," I said flatly. "I know."
Silence followed, and for once, they looked genuinely stunned.
I let out a dry laugh.
"Was that supposed to be dramatic?"
No one spoke, so I continued.
"For your information, I knew from the beginning exactly who I was to him."
I glanced toward the throne and then back at her.
"And I give a rat's ass about it."
Lysenne blinked, clearly unprepared for that response.
Rhaevan stared at me.
"You knew?" he asked quietly.
I turned to him sharply.
"Oh, now you want answers?"
My laugh held no humor.
"How interesting."
Lysenne recovered first.
"Cassiane, please listen. Father wanted to tell you himself."
That finally snapped something in me.
"Wanted to?"
I laughed, actually laughed.
"Really?"
I turned toward the king.
"At last," I said, "you acknowledge I exist."
King Alaric's expression hardened, not with guilt or remorse, but with cold annoyance.
That hurt more than rage would have.
Lysenne stepped forward.
"The kingdom is in danger. We need your help."
There it was, the real reason.
Of course.
I looked between them and then smiled, a sharp and ugly thing.
"Of course you do."
My voice trembled despite my efforts.
"Not when I was abandoned, not when I was hidden, and not when I spent years wondering why I existed at all."
My throat tightened.
"But now?"
I laughed again.
"Now you need something."
King Alaric finally spoke, his voice cold enough to freeze the air.
"This is exactly why I opposed bringing her here."
The hall went silent.
Lysenne turned sharply.
"Father-"
"No," he said.
His gaze landed on me fully now, evaluating, distant, and displeased.
"She is emotional, volatile, and clearly incapable of understanding what is at stake."
Every word landed cleanly, precisely, and cruelly.
He continued.
"You mistake personal grievance for importance."
That hit hard.
I felt tears sting my eyes, but no, absolutely not, not here and not in front of him.
I wiped at my eyes with angry frustration.
"Wow," I said, my voice shaking. "You know, for a man who ignored me for years, you formed opinions remarkably fast."
His expression did not change, which somehow made it worse.
I looked at him, really looked, and understood something.
He did not hate me, because that would have required emotion.
He simply did not value me enough to care.
That realization hollowed something in my chest.
I turned slowly toward Rhaevan, my vision blurring.
"And you."
My voice broke slightly, and I hated that.
"I do not even know who you are anymore."
His jaw tightened.
"Cassiane-"
"No."
I raised a hand.
"No explanations, not from you."
I swallowed hard.
"I was a fool."
The words came out quieter and more painful.
"I knew better."
Angry tears finally spilled, and I wiped them away immediately, furious and humiliated, but still standing.
"For once," I said, my voice trembling, "I thought maybe things could be different."
I laughed bitterly.
"That was my mistake."
Then I straightened and looked at Lysenne, at the king, at Rhaevan, and at all of them.
"I will not help you."
Silence followed, heavy and final.
"Do whatever you want."
Then I turned and walked out.
Lysenne called my name, but I did not stop.
By the time I reached the corridor, anger had faded just enough to let something worse emerge.
Exhaustion, hurt, and a grief I did not want to name.
I pressed a hand to my eyes and whispered into the empty corridor-
"I should have stayed gone."