On our wedding eve, Princess Hayley was caught with another man in the hunting lodge. The King, fearing my family would withdraw support, was furious. She remained calm. “Henry won’t leave me,” she said smugly. “He’s too infatuated.” The King seethed. “This isn’t a game! You’ll end things with Julian—now!” Behind the tapestry, my heart stalled. So, she’d only agreed to marry me to be with him. Hayley scoffed and left. I stepped out. The King sighed. “I tried to reason with her, but—” I shook my head. “A gentleman doesn’t steal love. If the alliance matters, consider your sister, Vanessa.” 1 My proposal left the King utterly stunned. “Henry, you can’t be serious. Vanessa… she’s a widow. You wouldn’t mind that?” “The Duchess and I are of a similar age,” I replied smoothly. “She should not be condemned to a life of hollow mourning for a husband she never even met, who passed so young. It is no life for a woman in her prime.” After a tense negotiation, the King finally consented to the match between me and his sister, Vanessa. When it came down to it, if Hayley’s scandal became public, it would be an unbearable stain on the royal family’s honor. “Your Majesty, these are the tributes from the Khergit envoys.” Handing the ledger to the King, I took my leave and made my way to Princess Hayley’s residence. It was almost laughable. For years, I had bent to her every whim, done everything in my power to earn a single glance of affection. I had come to the palace today hoping to impress my future father-in-law, only to stumble upon this… revelation. The moment I stepped into her opulent villa, a flicker of panic crossed Hayley’s face, swiftly replaced by a blaze of fury. “Henry Valerius! Who gave you permission to enter my home as you please?!” she snapped. “I’m warning you, one more disrespectful move and I’ll tell my father the wedding is off! Don’t think a royal decree means I’m chained to you!” In the past, my jealousy over Julian had made me obsessive. I’d followed her, constantly seeking reassurance, my mind a frantic mess of suspicion and anxiety. I had debased myself, all for the chance to marry her. Her current reaction, I supposed, was to be expected. “Good,” I said, my voice flat. “Because as it happens, you’re not the one I want to marry anymore.” Hayley let out a cold, mocking laugh. “Oh, stop posturing. You think I don’t know you? You groveled at my feet for months, wrote me endless letters, followed me around like a pathetic lapdog I couldn’t shake off!” I knew then that arguing was pointless. She was utterly convinced, deep in her bones, that I would never, ever give up on our marriage. As I turned to leave, my eyes caught a tell-tale mark on her throat, a flush of crimson just below her ear. The King’s words from the study echoed in my mind. There was only one explanation. It was from Julian. A woman of her station was meant to guard her reputation fiercely; a princess, even more so. Yet for Julian, Hayley was willing to cast aside all decorum, all honor. It was clear she loved him to the point of madness. Even knowing I would never marry her, a bitter resentment churned in my gut. An acidic burn rose in my throat, choking back the accusations I longed to hurl. I turned back, my gaze locking onto hers, searching, pleading for a flicker of shame, of guilt. She must have misinterpreted my stare. She snatched a porcelain teacup from the table and threw it at me. It shattered at my feet. “Staring at a lady’s neck? Is that the famed Valerius etiquette you’re so proud of?!” she shrieked. “Don't think I don’t know what filthy thoughts are running through your head! Let me tell you something—even if we do get married, if you ever dare to force yourself on me, I’ll have my father ruin your entire house!” My expression turned to ice. A humorless smile touched my lips. “Rest assured, Princess. I have absolutely no interest in you.” “Don’t you lie to me! The only reason you’re so desperate to marry me is for what’s between my legs, isn’t it?” For some reason, her words were a physical blow. A sharp, brutal pang shot through my chest, the bitterness flooding from my mouth straight to my heart. So, that’s all I was to her. Defeated, with nothing left to say, I turned and walked away. 2 For several days, there was nothing but silence from Hayley. Then, tonight, she appeared at my door, a drunken Julian leaning heavily on her. “Julian’s father is being investigated by the Crown’s inquisitors. He needs to lay low at your estate for a few days.” Before I could even think of refusing, she had already guided him into a guest chamber. And then, the Princess of the realm became a common servant. She bustled about, tending to him with a frantic energy. She brewed a sobering tonic, sponged his face and chest, and even helped him out of his shirt and into a fresh linen one. I remembered last year. To prove myself worthy of a princess, I’d spent my nights at banquets with corrupt officials, gathering evidence against them, and had worked myself into a feverish illness. She never once visited, never once asked after me. In fact, she’d mocked me for it. “Look at you, a sickly wreck. And you think you’re worthy of me? What a joke.” As I passed the guest room, I saw her. Julian had pulled her into his arms, holding her tight. Her lips were swollen and red, and on her neck was another fresh, damning mark. She looked up, her eyes meeting mine. She scrambled to her feet, flustered. “Henry, it’s not what you think. Don’t get the wrong idea.” Her reaction told me she was, at least, aware of the shame of her premarital affair. It just didn’t stop her. I gave a cold, detached curl of my lip. “Your Highness, I understand perfectly. I shall take my leave.” I returned to my own chambers without waiting for her reply, but to my surprise, she followed me in. “I know you’re upset. You don’t have to bottle it up. Just say what’s on your mind,” she said, her tone almost reasonable. “But I need you to know that nothing happened between Julian and me. We are innocent.” She said it with such conviction, her words ringing with self-righteousness. I found it utterly laughable. “Innocent?” I finally shot back. “Princess, you and Julian were discovered in the Royal Gardens, your clothes in disarray, by a member of the King’s own council. Is that your definition of innocent?” She froze, her face paling. It took her a long moment to recover. “A bug… a bug fell into my dress. I asked Julian to help me get it out,” she stammered. “We didn’t do anything.” Lies. One after another. In the past, I would have argued, fought her on every point, but it never led anywhere. My silence seemed to convince her she’d won. She summoned a servant, who brought in a long, velvet-lined box. She presented it to me. “Alright, then. I know how much you enjoy your swordsmanship. Consider this an early wedding gift.” I stared at the dueling saber inside the box. I was stunned. She had forgotten. Or perhaps she never knew. Since the day I’d saved her from a fall as a child, my health had been fragile. I had a lingering weakness that made any sort of rigorous martial training impossible. As for a love of swordsmanship… that was Julian’s passion, not mine. He was the brute, the brawler. But of course, she wouldn’t remember my preferences. Her world revolved around Julian. Seeing my hesitation, her patience wore thin. “I promise,” she said, her voice sharp, “if you stop making a fuss, I will marry you. You will be my husband, at least in name.” Her words piqued a morbid curiosity in me. “In name only? What does that mean?” “It means I will not share your bed. And if you try to force me, then I won’t marry you at all.” So, you won’t share my bed, but you’ll share Julian’s. The thought was cold and clear. She was so certain that I would agree to anything, any humiliation, just to have her. “It’s late, Princess. You should leave.” I ignored her protests and moved to close the door. She seemed ready to argue further, but a sudden clap of thunder rattled the windows. A panicked shout came from the guest room. Julian. Her face immediately flooded with worry. “I have to check on Julian. I’ll come back and talk to you after he’s asleep.” She turned and hurried away. Half an hour passed. It wasn’t Hayley who came to my door. It was Julian. He showed no signs of being drunk. Instead, he radiated a smug, post-coital languor. He gave me a lazy, triumphant smirk. “The Princess has fallen asleep in the guest chamber,” he said, his voice a low drawl. “Regarding tonight’s… events. I trust a man of your stature knows how to be discreet, yes?” I looked at him, and to my own surprise, I felt a profound, unnerving calm. It was as if she had finally, truly been excised from my heart. Meeting his gaze, I offered a polite, placid smile. “Of course. You can count on my discretion.” 3 When I returned from my duties at the ministry the next day, I found Hayley in my main hall. She looked momentarily awkward upon seeing me. “I was so tired last night, I ended up just sleeping here.” I just smiled and said nothing. She picked up a bowl of porridge from the table and, with a sudden and startling attentiveness, held a spoonful to my lips. “Here, try this. I woke up at dawn to make it.” What a marvel. The princess, whose hands had never touched a pot or pan in her life, waking at dawn to cook. I took the spoon and tasted it. “It’s quite good.” The words were barely out of my mouth before she snatched the bowl back. A delighted, childlike grin spread across her face. “Wonderful! If a man with a palate as refined as yours approves, then Julian will surely love it!” she chirped, already turning and heading towards his room. Watching her go, so full of giddy excitement, I felt a sudden, hollowing emptiness. It made sense, I suppose. In all our years together, she had never once cooked for me. It was always me catering to her, learning her tastes, preparing her meals, hoping for a crumb of her affection. “Julian, my love, time to wake up and have your breakfast!” Hayley’s sweet, cloying voice pulled me from my thoughts. I turned away, heading for my study. I had no desire to witness their saccharine display. By the time I finished my work, Hayley was gone, but Julian remained. He greeted me with that same infuriatingly cheerful grin. “Henry, my friend! Hayley went out to fetch some medicine for me. Come, join me for a meal.” I was hungry, so I didn’t refuse. The moment I sat down, he placed a piece of meat in my bowl. “You know, Henry,” he began, his tone dripping with false sympathy, “I almost admire you. To wear the horns so proudly and still insist on marrying her.” He leaned in, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “Tell me, are you truly that blind, or are you just… pathetic?” This was his favorite tactic: enrage me, make me lose my composure in front of Hayley. But I no longer cared about Hayley. And I certainly had no intention of wasting another moment on a man like him. 4 I rose from the table and went to my study to pack. After my wedding to Vanessa, I was to be dispatched to the Sunstone Coast to serve as the regional governor. It was time to get my affairs in order. But when I opened the cabinet in my study, I found it empty. My mother’s bracelet—the mother-of-pearl heirloom she had given me on her deathbed—was gone. It had been passed down through generations of her family. “When you marry,” she had whispered, her voice thin as paper, “give this to your wife. And bring her to visit my grave, so I can rest in peace.” It was more than just an heirloom. It was the last tangible piece of her I had left. “Looking for this, Henry?” I whipped my head around at the sound of Julian’s voice. There it was, dangling mockingly from his fingers. The mother-of-pearl bracelet. “Give it back,” I said, my voice dangerously low. “That was my mother’s.” He let out a contemptuous snort. “Oh, the late Lady Valerius’s personal effects? How touching.” And then, he simply opened his hand. The bracelet hit the stone floor and shattered into a dozen milky-white fragments. In that instant, a volcanic rage erupted inside me, incinerating all reason. I lunged forward and my fist connected with his jaw, sending him sprawling to the ground. As if on cue, Hayley chose that exact moment to walk through the door. She gasped, rushing to Julian’s side, fussing over him, checking him for injuries. Once she was satisfied he was unharmed, she rounded on me, her eyes spitting fire. “Henry! What is wrong with you?! Apologize to Julian this instant!” She didn’t know. She didn’t care to know. She just saw her beloved on the floor and me standing over him. It was always like this. For Julian, she had infinite trust, boundless compassion. For me, the man who had poured out his soul for her, there was only prejudice. “Do you think staying silent will solve anything? Apologize!” she demanded again. Her fury was a physical force, and my own resentment rose to meet it. “He deliberately smashed my mother’s bracelet. Don’t you think he deserved it?” “I gave that thing to Julian,” she retorted icily. “If he smashed it, he smashed it. What’s the problem?”
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