CHAPTER 114: FRACTURED RELATIONSHIP

Zara’s venom still clung to her. For a fleeting instant, Lorraine wondered if it might be better if she simply disappeared.

Her father had never wanted her. Her mother, the only person who had loved her, was dead, killed by his hand. She had lived an existence worth less than an insect. Who would miss her?

But no!

She shook her head. She couldn’t. She had promised someone she would live for him.

Her husband.

Even this morning, he had kissed her as though she were his entire world. He had seen her scars and accepted them. He had held her like a man in love.

Maybe... just maybe... he would miss her if she vanished.

Gathering what little strength remained, she descended the stairs. She couldn’t even summon a smile, not with the staff whispering behind their hands, their eyes flickering to her as if she already carried some unseen guilt.

That was when Leroy stormed out of the drawing room. Emma trailed after him, her voice breaking as she shouted about Zara.

Lorraine froze.

Leroy’s fury burned like a torch, his steps sharp, his jaw clenched. And when his gaze crashed into hers... she knew. He was angry. At her.

The way he looked at her... it was the same way her father once had. Disappointment. Rage. Condemnation.

Her breath caught, and her hands shook. Why? What had she done?

Her eyes darted to Emma, who stared back with tears of apology. Aldric sighed, weary. Elias remained silent. Cedric smirked, smug with some private knowledge.

Ah... so she was the one on trial. But for what crime?

She tried to lower her gaze, to flee the weight of his fury, but his voice struck first. "Give it to me."

Her heart stuttered.

"The antidote for Zara," he said.

The world tilted. Lorraine’s eyes widened, then darted once more to Emma, who covered her sobs with trembling hands. Sylvia stepped forward, shielding her instinctively, but Lorraine touched her arm, stopping her.

So... the truth was out. And by the looks of it, Emma had betrayed her.

Leroy’s rage...his disappointment... was not for her, but for Zara. He would protect her. Always her.

Lorraine felt the thought strike, hollowing her chest. She didn’t even feel fear. Not anger. Not grief. Nothing at all. She was gone already, her body standing where her soul had retreated.

She turned toward the staircase.

Behind her, Sylvia’s brow furrowed in disbelief. Why wasn’t Lorraine defending herself? Was she truly going to give him what he asked for?

And behind Leroy, Aldric pressed his hand to his forehead. Even after everything... Leroy chose Zara.

Leroy followed Lorraine into her bedchambers, shutting the door with a quiet finality that felt louder than a slam. She didn’t look at him. She was already too numb, too hollow. There was nothing left in her he could hurt.

She sat at her desk, her hands shaking only slightly as she wrote. No tears, no trembling voice, just cold, jagged letters scratched onto parchment. When she handed it to him, his mask was gone. His face was bare, furious, raw; it was the first thing she had seen of him after he survived death.

He snatched the note, eyes flicking over the words:

I poisoned Zara. My maids and staff are not culpable. I forced their obedience. I will provide the antidote if you swear to let them go unpunished. The burden is mine alone.

Leroy’s lips twisted. With a low, humorless laugh, he crumpled the parchment and let it fall between them.

"This?" His voice broke into a scoff. "This is what you think of me? That I’d let your people suffer for you? That I’d... what—? Parade my mistress under your roof, and then punish your staff for her sake?" His teeth ground, his fury sparking like flint. Then, coldly: "Fine. They’ll be spared. Now give me the antidote."

Lorraine didn’t argue. She didn’t beg. She didn’t even breathe. She simply moved to her dresser, retrieved the vial, and scribbled the instructions with mechanical precision.

When she placed it in his hand, she thought only: If my husband wants her alive, let him have her. Why should it matter to me?

He turned for the door. Lorraine clutched her hands against her belly, the silence ringing like a bell in her ears. He was running to Zara. To her. To save her.

But then he stopped. Slowly, he turned back. His face was bare, stripped of all pretense. Tired. Enraged. Broken.

"You don’t know me at all," he said, voice low, jagged. "You’re such a—" His words faltered. His hand rose to hold her.

And that was all it took.

She recoiled so violently it startled even him, stumbling back until her spine struck the wall. His face blurred into another—a face from her nightmares, her father’s face twisted in merciless rage, belt in hand, the look he wore before the pain ripped her open.

She slid down the wall, gasping, her breath hitching in sharp, humiliating sobs she couldn’t control. Her body trembled like a child awaiting the blow.

But no blow came.

Instead, she heard... a sound. A breath caught, a quiet sniff.

When she forced herself to look up, Leroy was standing frozen. A single tear traced down his cheek.

"You’re that scared of me?" His voice cracked. "Do you think I’m a beast?"

The fury drained from him as if it had been ripped away, leaving only raw despair. "No matter what I do... you’ll never trust me, will you?"

His eyes, which were red, wet, and hollow, burned with an anguish he couldn’t put into words.

With a harsh swipe across his face, he tore the weakness away, snatched up his mask, and turned. "I’ll go."

The door opened. He stepped through.

And Lorraine who was silent, numb until that moment, splintered seeing the hurt on his face. Her body lurched forward before thought could follow. She reached, desperate, but the door shut between them.

Her fingers brushed cold wood instead of him. And then she broke.

She sank against the door, sliding down as the tears she had caged burst free. Her heart felt ground to pulp in a mortar, each breath another strike of the pestle.

I did this. I hurt him. I made him sad. He hates me now. He despises me. And it’s my fault.

Her thoughts spun in a spiral, darker and darker. Of course he hates me. Everyone does. Everyone always will. That’s what I deserve.

Her sobs echoed in the chamber like the cries of something breaking, not a woman, not a wife, but something more fragile. Something that might never be put back together.

-----

Sylvia threw herself at the door, pounding once before Aldric caught her wrist.

"Are you just going to stand there?" she cried, tears streaking down her face. "Do nothing—while she’s in there with him?"

She had seen Lorraine’s hollow eyes. She had seen the prince’s rage. Nothing good could come of that.

Emma stepped forward, fists trembling. "I won’t keep silent. If it means saving her, I’ll use what I know." She had a great secret now. She would use any means to protect the princess.

Aldric’s gaze snapped to her, sharp enough to cut. "Is it not your loose tongue that dragged us here? Keep it shut."

His voice was low, dangerous. The menace in it startled even Sylvia. Emma paled and retreated a step, half-hidden behind Elias.

"If you think he’ll harm her, you’re wrong," Aldric said, tone flat, cold. "He wouldn’t. He’s hurt, but that’s it."

Sylvia scoffed bitterly. Hurt? After doubting her? After dragging Zara into their lives again and again? After breaking Lorraine piece by piece? Was Aldric blind, or did he simply not care?

She raised her hand to strike the door again... when it flew open.

The prince strode out. His mask was back in place, his expression unreadable. He walked past them without a glance, toward Zara, now collapsed in Cedric’s arms.

Cedric’s smirk was sharp as a blade. Vindicated.

"Poisoned? I was poisoned? She poisoned me?" Zara sobbed, reaching toward Leroy. "Leroy..."

Leroy went to her without hesitation.

Sylvia’s chest heaved. No. No more. If poison could not take Zara from them, she would.

She rushed after him, pulling out her hairpin.