Damian, Evelina, and the guards burst into the palace infirmary. Brenick was carried in by one of the guards; his body was limp and pale, the blood seeping from his chest staining the fabric of his tunic.
"Adam, keep him from dying!" Damian barked, his commanding voice snapping the palace physician into action.
The healer, a middle-aged man with sharp eyes and steady hands, rushed over to Brenick, pulling back the layers of blood-soaked clothing to assess the wound.
His expression darkened as he examined the deep stab wound. "His pulse is weak," Adam announced grimly, pressing his fingers against Brenick’s neck. "The blade struck dangerously close to the heart. I’ll do what I can."
"Then do it fast," Damian growled, his fists clenching at his sides as he watched.
Evelina stood nearby, her chest tight as she watched the physician work. She couldn’t take her eyes off Brenick’s ashen face. Her heart sank as the seconds dragged on and Adam’s movents beca slower, more hesitant.
Finally, Adam exhaled, shaking his head. "I’m sorry," he said softly. "He’s gone."
"No." Evelina’s voice filled the room, expressing her disbelief and desperation. "No, he can’t die. Not now. Not before answering my questions."
Damian turned to her, his brow furrowing. "Evelina—"
She ignored him, shoving past to reach Brenick’s lifeless body. Her hands pressed against his chest, and she began doing chest compressions.
"Evelina, stop!" Damian tried to grab her arm, but she shrugged him off.
"Shut up and let do this!" she snapped, tears blurring her vision as she continued the compressions. "He can’t die. He owes answers."
The room fell silent except for the desperate rhythm of Evelina’s attempts to revive Brenick. Her tears fell freely, splashing against his bloodied shirt as the reality of the situation hit her.
Her movents faltered, her compressions turning into frustrated fists against Brenick’s chest.
"Why?" she whispered, her voice cracking as her emotions broke through. "Why the fuck did you have to do it? Why kill yourself to protect a lie?"
Damian’s chest tightened at the sight of her breaking down.
Unable to watch any longer, he stepped forward and gently pulled her away from Brenick’s body, wrapping his arms around her trembling form. "It’s okay," he murmured softly.
"No, it’s not okay," Evelina shot back, her voice muffled against his chest. "He was my only solid lead, and now he’s gone. Literally gone."
Damian tightened his grip, holding her as she let out the frustration, anger, and sorrow she’d been bottling up. For a mont, they stood there, until a hurried footstep and voice interrupted them.
"Your Highness," Jasper called as he rushed into the infirmary, stopping short at the sight before him.
His gaze flicked to the lifeless Brenick, then to Damian holding Evelina. He leaned toward one of the guards and whispered, "Did the lady..." He made a slicing motion across his throat with his thumb.
"Jasper!" Damian’s voice cut through sharply, making the man flinch.
"I... Your Highness... I’m sorry," Jasper stamred. He straightened, quickly changing the subject. "Your presence has summoned the King urgently."
Damian raised an eyebrow. "What?"
Jasper nodded. "Sorry, Your Highness. The King... wants to see you imdiately."
Damian exhaled, reluctant to leave Evelina in such a state. He gently pulled back, his silver eyes locking onto hers. "Will you be okay?" he asked softly.
Evelina didn’t respond.
Instead, she turned and walked toward the other side of the infirmary, her shoulders stiff as she distanced herself from everyone in the room.
Damian hesitated, his instincts screaming at him to stay with her, but the King’s summons left no room for delay. "Jasper," he said firmly. "Keep an eye on her. Don’t let her do anything I wouldn’t."
Jasper gave a half-smile, trying to lighten the tension. "That’s a wild card order, Your Highness."
Damian turned, his brows knitting together. "What’s that supposed to an?"
"Well... you tend to do what you like most tis," Jasper muttered under his breath, but he straightened quickly under Damian’s sharp glare. "I’ll keep an eye on her," he assured with a bow.
Satisfied, Damian nodded and strode out of the infirmary, his jaw set as he prepared to face his father.
*************
The large wooden doors of the throne room opened, revealing grand chamber filled with bright sunlight from the stained glass windows. Damian walked in confidently, his silver eyes catching Selene before settling on his father on the throne.
"Father," Damian greeted curtly, stopping in the middle of the room.
"Damian," the King’s voice was cold, his sharp eyes narrowing as his son approached. "Do you care to explain why I’ve been inford you intend to break off your engagent with Selene?"
Damian squared his shoulders, his silver eyes holding the King’s piercing gaze. "Because it’s the right thing to do. I will not marry her."
The King’s nostrils flared, his aura darkening. "You an to throw away an alliance vital to Arcadia’s stability for what? A fleeting infatuation with a stranger?"
"It’s not infatuation, Father. And she is not a stranger," Damian shot back. "She is my mate."
Lucian’s expression shifted from disbelief to fury. "Your mate?" His voice bood, echoing through the chamber. "This woman—this Evelina—has bewitched you! You would choose her over duty? Over the future of this kingdom?"
Damian’s fists clenched at his sides. "I would choose her over a lifeti of lies and manipulation. A kingdom built on alliances without trust will crumble, Father."
Lucian stepped down from his throne, speaking in a low but venomous tone. "You’re a prince, Damian. You don’t get to choose."
Damian opened his mouth to reply, but the sound of hurried footsteps interrupted him.
A guard entered and bowed deeply. "Your Majesty, a visitor has arrived. They claim it is a matter of great importance."
Lucian waved the guard off with a growl. "Not now."
"Father," Damian interjected. "You can try to control everything else in this kingdom, but you will not control my choice of a mate."
Before the King could respond, Damian turned on his heel and stord out of the throne room, leaving Lucian seething behind him.
The guard shifted nervously, glancing between the fuming King and the doors through which Damian had exited. Lucian’s glare sharpened. "Show this visitor," he barked.
Then turning to Selene, he dismissed her. "Go, my dear. Relax; so long as I’m King, you’ll marry Damian."
"But Your Majesty... you..." Selene started but was cut off by the King.
"Don’t worry, Selene... I have a plan."
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