Sold To The Cruel Pr Chapter 78: A Hard Truth To Swallow

Chapter 78: A Hard Truth To Swallow

Theron staggered back.

To buy herself back.

The words struck deeper than anything else she had said that morning.

He had wanted to convince her to go with him. He had expected resistance, of course, but not this—not that she would look at him as though he had truly reduced her to sothing that could be owned, priced, and repaid.

He wanted to tell her once more that she was not a slave.

He wanted to tell her that he had never seen her that way.

But the truth was, she believed otherwise. She believed he had looked at her, judged her, and decided she was worth no more than a thousand ducats.

And in that instant, Theron felt sothing inside him go still.

He had lost her. Really lost her.

Aveline waited, her eyes wide and searching his face for an answer.

Theron forced himself to nod.

The mont he did, her whole face changed.

A brilliant, disbelieving happiness lit her features, so sudden and so unguarded that it nearly undid him. She bounced on her feet and let out a tiny squeal of delight, flinging her hands into the air.

"I’ll pay you back no matter how long it takes!" she exclaid.

Theron only watched her.

She was happy.

Under other circumstances, seeing her like this would have made him happy too. But now, the smile that ca to his face felt brittle, as if he were putting it on with shaking hands.

"You better," he said softly.

Now that everything was settled, Aveline’s attention drifted to Hamilton.

"Are pets allowed there?" she asked.

Theron looked from her to the creature at her side.

Then he reached into his pocket, drew out several small pills, and rolled them together into one larger one. He traced a rune in the air with two fingers, and a bluish-green glow blood at the tip of his finger. When he pressed it against the pill, it changed, turning white.

"Give it to him," he said. "He won’t be this big after that."

Aveline stared at the pill for a mont.

"Do you not trust ?" Theron asked, a wry note in his voice as he watched the suspicion in her face. She was looking at it as though it might be poison.

Aveline frowned, still not understanding his expression. "No. It is just... how co you never used this magic when we were back in Aurelmont?"

"For so reason, it does not work in Aurelmont," he said. "People there believe it has sothing to do with the mountains, but no one knows for certain. The Aurelmont King is not pleased with our requests to study that mountain."

That had been what he had wanted to ask her before—about the strange colors she had seen, and whether they might have anything to do with the Aetherstones there. He had his own theory, but without proof, it was only that. A theory.

Still, Aveline was no longer looking at him with open distrust. She was thinking now.

Bowing her head slightly, she seed to turn the idea over in her mind. If the mountain held so many Aetherstones, then perhaps there truly was a connection between them and the ability to use magic.

"Does everyone in Greenvale do magic?" she asked after a mont.

If they did, then perhaps she would not be the odd one out there.

"It can be learned," Theron said. "But not everyone succeeds. Most people give up once they learn about the stones, because they cannot bend."

Aveline tightened her fingers around the pill, and stood there, thinking.

"Do you have any more questions?" he asked.

Aveline looked at him.

She had a thousand. A thousand tangled thoughts crowded her mind, but the one she truly wanted to ask felt too dangerous to let out. Too personal. Too foolish.

Still, the question slipped through before she could stop it.

"What is your wife’s na?" she asked. Then, after a brief hesitation, "Do you have children?"

Theron’s heart dropped. "I do not have a wife," he said.

Aveline’s eyes widened.

For one stunned second, hope flashed through her so brightly it almost hurt to look at. Her lips curved, not into the polite smile she often wore, but into sothing more open, more radiant—a smile Theron had not seen in far too long.

"Really?" she breathed.

Then, before she could think better of it, before fear could catch up to hope, she blurted, "Then will you marry ?"

The mont the words left her mouth, she froze.

Her hands flew to her lips, and her face turned crimson so quickly it was almost comical. Beneath her fingers, her eyes widened in horror as she stared at him, mortified by her own honesty.

Theron felt his heart seize.

To marry her.

The thought crashed over him so suddenly that for one impossible mont, the rest of the world disappeared. His mind filled with the life he would have chosen without hesitation if there were no duties, no bloodlines, no obligations waiting like chains around his throat.

He saw her waking up beside him in a quiet ho bathed in morning light. He saw a house with worn wooden floors, a small garden of roses that would always bloom because she loved them, children running barefoot through the grass, her laughter drifting through every room like music. He saw her standing among the flowers with a child on her hip, turning toward him with that soft, brilliant smile as if he were the only thing she had ever wanted.

It lasted only a few heartbeats.

Then reality returned, cold and relentless.

His mother. His duties. The life that was already chosen for him.

"Aveline, I—"

He saw the color drain from his own face and realized, too late, that he had answered her before he even spoke.

Aveline noticed it too.

The brightness in her expression faded at once. Her heart, which had been beating wildly, seed to settle too quickly, as though sothing inside her had shut down to protect itself.

"I was only jesting," she said, and turned away. "Why would I want to marry you?"

But her voice did not hold.

Before she could compose herself, tears gathered in her eyes. She lowered her head quickly, as though ashad of even that much, but the tears slipped free and traced hot paths down her cheeks.

She hurried to squat in front of Hamilton, as if that small act could hide the fact that her entire body was trembling.

"Hamilton," she said, trying to sound steady and failing, "have this."

The creature looked up at her with round, uncertain eyes.

He sniffed at the pill, then stared at her as if he were not entirely convinced it was safe.

Theron watched from behind, and even without seeing her face, he knew she was crying. He could hear it in the careful break of her breathing, in the way she was trying and failing to hold herself together.

"I- I have a... betrothed," he said.

The words tasted bitter.

But perhaps, if he told her the truth, it would hurt her less.

Aveline heard him.

And that was worse.

The last of her restraint gave way. She curled in on herself, knees drawn to her chest, and bit down hard on them to keep the sob from escaping. Her shoulders shook once, then again.

So he was not married. He had soone waiting for him. Soone beloved back ho.

Then what was she to him?

What had all of it ant—the kisses, the laughter, the heat between them, the way he looked at her as though she were sothing precious and impossible?

Why was he asking her to go with him if there was already another woman in his life?

With a trembling hand, she pushed the pill toward Hamilton’s mouth.

"Just swallow," she whispered.

And the words felt ant for herself too.

Just swallow it, Aveline.

Swallow the truth.

He does not love you.

You are only sothing he is passing the ti with.

A pleasant little thing to hold until he returns to the woman who truly belongs to him.

Theron clenched his fists so hard that his nails dug into his palm, and blood spread.