Chapter 18
Chapter Eighteen
Mia
I stood at the corner of the apartment building and saw the scene.
Zane was crouched in the playground sandbox, building sandcastles with Lily.
Lily's laughter rang through the morning air, clear as wind chimes.
She was using a plastic shovel to scoop sand into a red bucket, as focused as a researcher conducting a major scientific experiment.
And Zane—the man who once stood so high above everyone, who wouldn't even look at me properly—was now kneeling in the sandbox, using those hands that had signed countless royal decrees to carefully shape the castle's towers.
His shirt sleeves were rolled to his elbows, exposing the firm muscles of his forearms. His hair was a mess, probably just run through with his fingers after waking up.
A smile played at his lips—not the polite smile from political occasions, but something real, unguarded, like he'd removed all his armor.
I'd never seen him smile like that.
That smile sent a sharp pain through my chest, like someone had driven a rusty needle straight into the softest part of my heart.
Lily dumped the sand from her bucket too hard, and half the castle collapsed. She let out a frustrated sigh, her little shoulders sagging.
"It's okay," Zane said, his voice so gentle I wondered if I was hallucinating. "Look, we can turn it into a volcano. Volcanoes are way cooler than castles, don't you think?"
Lily's eyes lit up immediately. "Will the volcano erupt?"
"Of course. But we'll need some red paint—"
"I have red crayons!" Lily jumped up and ran toward the apartment building. "I'll get them!"
She ran out of the sandbox, then saw me.
"Mommy!" she called out happily, launching herself at me like a little cannonball and wrapping her arms around my legs. "Mommy, you're back! Look! Zane's building a volcano with me!"
I looked down at her. Her face was covered in sand, one braid had come loose, but her eyes shone like two stars. Pure, unfiltered joy.
"I saw," I said, my voice calmer than I expected. "Having fun?"
"So much fun!" She nodded vigorously. "Zane said he used to have a horse! And he said next time he can take me riding!"
My gaze drifted past Lily's shoulder to Zane. He'd stood up and was brushing sand off his pants. His movements were awkward, like a little boy caught doing something he shouldn't. He looked at me, those gray-blue eyes holding a careful, tentative expression, like he was waiting for my judgment.
"Lily," I said, crouching to meet her eyes, "go upstairs to Aunt Emma, okay? Mommy needs to talk to Zane."
"Okay!" She agreed cheerfully, then ran to Zane and tugged at his pant leg.
Zane looked down at her.
"Zane, don't leave, okay?" she said, her tone as serious as if issuing a royal decree. "I'll be right back. We promised to paint the volcano."
Zane froze for a moment, then his lips curved into a gentle arc. "I won't leave. I'll wait for you."
Lily nodded, satisfied, then bounced into the apartment building.
The playground held just the two of us.
Morning sunlight slanted down, casting long shadows on the ground.
The air smelled of grass and earth mixed together, with the scent of baking bread drifting from somewhere distant.
Everything was so peaceful, so normal, except—I stood here facing the man who'd once broken my heart, with nothing between us but a ruined sandcastle and five years of silence.
"She's a great kid," Zane spoke first, his voice hoarse.
"I know."
He was quiet for a few seconds. "You've raised her well."
"That's none of your business."
My words hit like a wall, shutting him out. He looked at me, his lips moving, but ultimately said nothing.
I looked at him, a strange sourness rising in my chest. If we were just an ordinary family—if we were a normal couple, living in a normal house, living normal lives—would we have avoided all that hardship?
Could we have had this simple happiness?
Could Lily build sandcastles with her dad on weekends instead of following her touring mother around the world?
Too bad there were no ifs.
Those wounds were real. They were still there. Even healed over, they hurt when pressed.
I was silent for a moment. "The tour's on hold. I've told all the crew. We can leave tomorrow."
Zane's expression turned serious immediately. "Good. I'll prepare now."
We left early the next morning.
The convoy was more impressive than I'd imagined—six black carriages decorated with Moonhowl Kingdom's silver wolf crest, with two mounted guard units front and back. Zane had clearly treated this "bringing Vela home" as a national-level important mission.
I sat in the most spacious carriage in the middle, Lily sprawled across my lap, curiously watching everything outside the window.
Ethan sat across from me, holding a document but clearly not reading a single word—his gaze kept drifting to the mounted guards outside, a half-smile playing at his lips.
"Nice show," he said, his tone teasing. "Looks like our king is determined to announce to the whole world that he's brought you back."
"He's not 'our' king," I corrected him, my tone colder than expected. "He's the king of Moonhowl Kingdom. I'm Vela. We're just business partners."
"Of course," Ethan raised both hands in surrender. "Business partners. I get it."
His tone made me want to throw the cushion in my hands at his face.
Lily was completely oblivious to the tension between us. She was busy pressing her face against the window, watching the scenery flash by. "Mommy! Those trees are so tall! Those flowers are so pretty! Mommy, will the place we're going have an amusement park?"
"Probably," I said, running my hand through her hair. "We can check when we get there."
"Yay!" She cheered, then turned back to the window. "Will Zane come with us?"
My hand paused.
"Zane's busy," I said, trying to keep my voice casual. "He's the king. He has a lot to do."
"Oh," Lily responded, a hint of disappointment in her tone, but she was quickly distracted by a deer passing outside the window.
I leaned back in my seat and closed my eyes. The carriage lurched forward, the sound of wheels crushing gravel mingling with hoofbeats like a lullaby. Lily's warmth seeped through the fabric, warm like a little hot water bottle pressed against my ribs.
I didn't know what I'd face when I returned to that place. Didn't know what that man would do next.
But I knew one thing—
I wasn't the same helpless mute orphan from five years ago.
If he tried to hurt me again, he'd find I'd grown thorns.
The journey took three full days.
When we finally saw Moonhowl Kingdom's gates, I had to admit my heart was beating faster than usual.
The royal city gleamed golden in the afternoon sun. The walls were built from pale gray stone, covered in climbing ivy, with an enormous silver wolf carved above the gates, head thrown back toward the sky as if howling at the moon.
Exactly as I remembered.
But also not quite the same.
A sea of people crowded the gates—at least several hundred, lining both sides of the road, holding flowers and streamers. When they saw our convoy, they erupted in deafening cheers.
"Vela! Vela! Vela!"
I froze.
"Is this..." I turned to Ethan uncertainly. "A welcome ceremony?"
Ethan pulled his gaze from the window and raised an eyebrow. "Looks like more than a welcome ceremony. Looks like a national celebration."
The carriage stopped at the gates. A servant opened the door and respectfully extended his hand to me.
I took a deep breath and stepped down.
The sunlight made me squint. The cheers crashed over me like waves, nearly drowning me.
People waved bouquets and banners, some so moved they were crying.
I heard someone shouting "Long live Vela!
" Someone shouting "Welcome home!" And more people—so many more—shouting a title I hadn't expected to hear.
"Luna! Luna! Luna!"
My steps halted.
I turned to look at Zane standing on the gate steps.
He wore a deep blue formal outfit, a silver wolf crest pinned to his collar, his hair neatly combed back. He looked—damn it, he still looked so handsome.
He walked toward me and, under everyone's gaze, stopped in front of me.
Then he did something that no one—including me—expected.
He dropped to one knee.
The entire place went silent.
Hundreds of voices cut off in an instant, so quiet you could hear the wind rustling the flags. Everyone stared wide-eyed as their king—the Alpha of Moonhowl Kingdom, the man who'd never bowed his head even on the battlefield—knelt before a woman.
"Mia Turner." His voice was low and clear, echoing across the silent square, each word landing on my heart like a stone. "Five years ago, I made the biggest mistake of my life. I didn't believe you. I hurt you. I drove you to the edge. I'm here, in front of everyone, to apologize to you."
He pulled a rolled parchment from his pocket and unfolded it.
It was an official statement. Written in gilt lettering:
"I, Zane Caster, ruler of Moonhowl Kingdom, hereby publicly acknowledge that Mia Turner is my fated mate.
I harmed her by believing lies, forcing her to leave.
I now declare to all the people—she is innocent.
All accusations against her are false. I swear on my crown and my life that from this day forward, I will never let anyone harm her again. "
He finished reading the last word and looked up at me.
Those gray-blue eyes held no pride, no royal authority, just something naked and undisguised—pleading.
"Mia," he said, his voice rough, "I know this isn't enough. I know nothing I do can make up for it. But I want everyone to know—you're innocent. You were never any curse."
I felt my eyes burning.
The crowd started murmuring. I saw several elders standing nearby with mixed expressions—some looked furious, some were sweating, some were forcing smiles. Clearly, Zane hadn't consulted them about this "public apology."
Someone in the crowd started clapping.