Sold To The Cruel Pr Chapter 47: The Promise

Chapter 47: The Promise

The moon hung bright that night, its pale light spilling through the leaves and settling over Theron’s face in shifting patterns of silver and shadow.

He had sent his knights far enough away to leave them alone.

Part of him had wanted them near, a restraint, a safeguard against his own impulses. And yet, he had wanted this more; to have Aveline to himself for a little while, with no watching eyes, no careful distance between them.

They were only traveling for a few hours, and still he could not bear the thought of being apart from her.

But he knew that wanting this was already too much.

Once they returned to Greenvale, he would not be able to stay beside her like this. He would be consud by the kingdom’s affairs, by obligations that would leave him no room to visit her even once a day. And beyond that, beyond everything else, there was the matter that truly gnawed at him.

Kael had already inford his family.

The Vantaris family would be waiting for her.

Waiting to examine her, to judge her, to search for fault in every word she spoke and every movent she made. And if he was careless, if they so much as suspected she was more than she appeared, she might lose far more than their approval.

She might lose her life.

Also, the Caelvaris family, the family of his betrothed, was powerful enough to turn suspicion into cruelty. If they even half-believed she was his mistress, they would not hesitate to make her suffer for it. They would call it tradition, decorum, justice—anything to hide the violence beneath it.

Aveline herself had seed reluctant to step into the court of Greenvale. No doubt she could feel the pressure of a world that would look at her and ask what right she had to exist in it.

And she was not the sa girl who had once stood before everyone with grit in her heart.

That was what made it harder.

Did he have the right to bring her into such a hostile place? Would it not be safer to leave her with Theodore instead? Would it not be wiser to keep her far from the danger his na invited?

Was he being selfish simply because he could not bear to let her go?

The questions turned over and over in his mind, leaving no room for peace.

A soft breeze passed between them, stirring his hair.

And then he felt it... Her hand.

Her fingers, no longer quite as soft as he rembered, but still impossibly gentle. Ten years had left scars on her hands—small reminders of suffering, of labor, of a life that had never been kind.

Yet the touch was tender; the sa tenderness he rembered from years ago, the sa tenderness of a mother soothing a fevered child.

"Are you worried about sothing?" Aveline asked quietly.

Theron lowered his bowl and looked at her.

The firelight shifted over her face, catching in her crystalline blue eyes until they seed to hold the flas themselves. There was concern there—familiar, open, unguarded concern.

The sa look she had worn when he was ill as a child.

She had stayed by his side then, asking after every detail from the physician, fussing over him with a sincerity that never once felt forced. She had told him, in that sa gentle voice, to get better soon so they could go play.

Back then, he had thought her sweetness was simply that: sweetness.

Now he understood it had never been ordinary. She had never been selfish. She had always worried for him with her whole heart.

And seeing her like this now, still caring, still reaching for him with that sa instinctive tenderness...

How could he not want her at his side?

That was right.

Who else could protect her better than he could?

He had believed she was safe for the past ten years, but she had not been safe at all. What guarantee did he have that Theodore would keep her out of danger? What guarantee did he have that anyone else would?

It was not selfishness.

It was the only thing he could do.

One word from her, and all the heaviness in his chest eased.

The mont he looked at her and found that sa quiet trust in her eyes, sothing inside him loosened, as though her presence alone had answered every doubt he had been carrying.

He leaned into it... that tenderness of her fingers. He wanted to feel it. The only real expression that he had felt all his life.

Aveline leaned closer as Theron bent over her hand, and for a mont, he looked less like a powerful knight and more like soone quietly trying not to fall apart.

Sothing in his expression tugged at her.

He looked lost. As though he had reached for the only steady thing within his grasp and was now holding on too tightly to let go.

"Theron?" she called softly.

"Hm?" He opened his eyes.

Then, with that sa unsettling tenderness that made her heart stutter, he said, "Don’t ever change, Aveline."

Before she could answer, he caught her wrist and pressed the back of her hand to his cheek. His lashes lowered as though he were drawing comfort from the touch itself.

"I’ll protect you," he murmured, voice low and absolute. "So don’t even think of leaving ."

Aveline’s heartbeat faltered.

This was not the first ti he had said sothing like that. Every ti, he sounded less like a man making a promise and more like a man confessing a need he could barely bear to na.

She studied him in silence, her chest tightening with a strange, aching warmth.

"Do you need ?" she asked at last.

Whatever the reason was, whether it was selfishness, habit, or sothing she did not yet understand, she did not mind. If he needed her abilities for whatever purpose, she had already decided she would give them freely, if only for his sake.

Theron’s eyes remained closed.

"I need you very much," he said, and there was no irony in it, no trace of hesitation. "So very much."

His fingers tightened faintly around her wrist as he pressed her hand more firmly against his cheek.

"Promise ."

Aveline’s breath caught.

Then she nodded. "I promise."

The effect was imdiate.

A smile blood across his face, slow and unguarded, as though the tension in him had been holding itself together by a thread and her answer had finally loosened it. The hard line between his brows faded. His expression softened all the way through, until he looked almost transford by relief.

And for so reason, that was enough to make her own heart feel full.

After dinner, Aveline wandered around the camp, restless in the way one beca when the night was too quiet, and the world felt too large.

Her steps, without much thought, drifted toward the cages.

At night, the monsters seed quieter. Less frantic, less terrible, though she still had no desire to test how close they could get before becoming deeply offensive to her peace of mind.

Along the way, she spotted several of the glowing stones the others called Aetherstones, lying scattered in the grass like bits of fallen starlight. She bent to collect them at once, slipping them into her pockets beside the other stone Theron had once bought for her.

She had almost reached the cages when movent caught her eye.

The gray lizard-rat creature stirred awake the mont it saw her.

Aveline froze.

Then, slowly, cautiously, she reached a hand toward it.

"What are you doing?"

The familiar voice startled her so badly she gave a small, helpless yelp.