Princess's Revenge: Slave to the Soulbound King Chapter 134

Adelaide

"Slowly now, quietly," I whispered to the twins, gently holding their small hands as we approached the chaise lounge where Thalia rested. "Remember what we discussed—Mama needs her rest."

Nova nodded solemnly while Pax nervously gripped the fabric of my dress. The children moved toward their mother with the careful grace of young deer, their voices soft as morning birdsong. "Mama, we've come to see you."

Thalia's eyes fluttered open—those deep blue depths that had once blazed with prophetic power now held only infinite love for her children. "My precious little ones," she breathed, her voice light but filled with joy as she reached out with trembling fingers to caress each face.

Pax stepped forward first, his small chest puffed with pride. "Mama, look what I picked for you!" He thrust forward a slightly disheveled bouquet of colorful wildflowers, some stems bent from his enthusiastic gathering. "I climbed the big oak tree in the palace gardens to get the yellow ones at the top!"

Nova approached more shyly, her bouquet more carefully arranged. "I chose these for their healing properties, Mama," she said softly, then closed her eyes in concentration. "Floribus vitalis," she whispered, her small hands glowing with gentle silver light.

The flowers in both bouquets began to shimmer, their petals brightening as if touched by starlight. Wilted edges straightened, and the blooms seemed to pulse with renewed vitality.

"Oh, my precious ones," Thalia breathed, accepting both bouquets with trembling hands. "Pax, what an adventure you had! And Nova, your magic grows stronger every day. These are the most beautiful flowers I've ever received." Then she lifted her gaze to mine. "Adelaide, thank you for bringing them again. Seeing them here always fills me with such strength."

I settled into a chair beside her daybed, taking her cool hand in mine. "How could I not? They miss you even more than I do."

Her attendant approached with refreshments for the children—honey cakes and fresh fruit arranged on a small table by the window. With their mother's permission, Nova and Pax moved to the sunny alcove, leaving us alone in the softly lit chamber.

The moment they were out of earshot, my expression grew grave. "You look thinner than last week, Thalia. What do the physicians say?"

She shook her head weakly, using her elbow to prop herself more upright. "Thanks to Father's ancient healing magic these past four years, and the constant stream of remedies you've provided, I've managed to hold on this long." Her voice carried a note of profound sadness. "But we both know the five-year mark approaches. I can feel it—my life force, like these flower petals, quietly withering away."

Tears sprang to my eyes as I gripped her hand tighter. "No, there must be another way. I've sent for the finest healers, even reached out to the elven territories. I won't give up, Thalia."

"Adelaide," her voice held unexpected firmness as she touched my hand with her free one. "I've long since accepted this reality. I'm grateful to have two such wonderful children—I love them more than my own life." Her voice grew sad. "My only regret is... never seeing Draven again. I pray he hates me still, for it might make his life easier... but my heart still foolishly hopes he remembers me with something other than anger."

A tear traced down my cheek. "He has always loved you, and he always will."

Thalia drew a deep breath, her expression becoming resolute. "Adelaide, I need you to promise me something." Her voice grew urgent. "When I'm gone, please take Nova and Pax to Draven."

I started to protest, but she continued. "They carry werewolf blood—you've seen the signs. Nova's heightened senses, Pax's emotional transformations. They need to learn control, and..." She glanced toward where the children sat by the window. "It's not entirely safe for them here. Despite your efforts, prejudice against werewolf heritage still runs deep in Eldoria."

I sighed, knowing she was right.

"I know it's cruel, but they belong there. Their father needs them as much as they need him." Thalia's gaze drifted toward the window, toward the distant mountains where Silverhowl lay.

Slowly, I nodded. "I promise you, Thalia. I'll personally escort them to Silverhowl and ensure they reach Draven safely."

Relief flickered across her features. "Speaking of which, Adelaide—you've buried yourself in state affairs these past four years. Eldoria prospers, the people are happy. It's time you considered your own happiness." Her voice softened. "You still can't let him go, can you? Lycanthar?"

My expression grew complex as I rose and walked to the tall window overlooking the palace gardens. "I've tried to let go, Thalia. Truly. But every time I see the moon, I remember his eyes... those eyes that looked into my soul."

Thalia studied me meaningfully. "But life must continue, mustn't it? We all have our paths and responsibilities to follow."

---

Moonlight cascaded like a silver waterfall through the palace's marble corridors as I returned to my chambers, exhausted from the day's affairs and the emotional toll of visiting Thalia. But as I crossed the threshold, my chief attendant hurried forward.

"Your Highness, His Majesty requests an audience. He awaits you in his study."

Mild surprise flickered across my face. "At this hour? Has something happened?"

"His Majesty gave no explanation, Your Highness, but it doesn't appear to be urgent business."

I nodded, straightening my attire before making my way to Father's study. The corridor portraits watched my passage—ancestral faces including my mother, the queen who died shortly after my birth. I often wondered if life would have been different had she lived.

After a gentle knock, I heard Father's deep voice: "Enter."

King Edmund Valendria sat behind his oak desk, reviewing documents. At my entrance, he set down his quill, removed his spectacles, and smiled warmly despite the weariness in his features.

"Adelaide, my child, please sit." He gestured to the chair across from him. "I know it's late, but there are matters I wish to discuss."

I settled gracefully into the offered seat. "What's troubling you, Father?"

He shook his head. "Nothing troubling—quite the contrary, I wish to speak of pleasant things." His eyes sparkled with pride. "The ministers praise your exceptional governance these past four years. Your contributions to the kingdom are evident to all."

I inclined my head modestly. "Thank you, Father. It's my duty."

He cleared his throat, his expression growing slightly uncomfortable. "Speaking of duty, Adelaide, I must raise another topic." He paused, choosing his words carefully. "You've reached an age where marriage should be considered."

My expression immediately grew guarded, though I maintained composure. "Father, we've discussed this before."

"I know, I know," he raised a hand. "I fully understand the pain your experiences four years ago brought you. But Adelaide, as a member of the royal family—particularly as a potential heir—marriage and children are also responsibilities and obligations. You must consider the kingdom's future."

He continued gently: "The Spring Festival approaches in two weeks. Many noble families' finest young men will attend. I'm not asking for immediate decisions—merely hoping you might open your heart and give yourself a chance to meet some people."

I sat in silence, remembering Thalia's words from earlier. Looking up at Father's concerned eyes, I saw the lines and silver threads that marked years of responsibility and care.

"Very well, Father," I said quietly at last. "I'll attend the Spring Festival and try to... keep an open mind."

Joy bloomed across his face like a child's. "Really? That's wonderful! I promise no pressure—just hope you'll enjoy the festivities and perhaps... perhaps find someone with whom you share common interests."

He began discussing the festival arrangements enthusiastically while I smiled and listened, though my thoughts drifted elsewhere.

After leaving the study, instead of returning directly to my chambers, I climbed the winding stairs to the castle's highest tower. The platform offered a view of the entire royal city under the night sky.

Father's words echoed in my mind. The Spring Festival. Noble suitors. A chance to "open my heart." Perhaps he was right—perhaps it was time to consider the future rather than dwelling in the past.

I touched the stone railing, uncertainty stirring within me. Could I truly give someone else a chance? Was it fair to any potential suitor when my heart still carried such shadows?

"Perhaps," I whispered to the night air. "Perhaps it's possible to build something new."

I straightened my shoulders with tentative resolve, then turned to descend the tower toward my chambers, carrying both hope and hesitation in equal measure.