Just For Tonight

Chapter 10

The Hybrid's Secret: Protecting the Crowned Enemy

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One Week Later

"Cater!"

Alric's voice echoed through the castle halls, loud enough to make several servants stop in their tracks. Cater hurried toward the sound, a folded cloak draped neatly over his arm. He found the prince pacing anxiously in his chambers, his brow furrowed and his hands clenched into fists.

"My party is about to start, and there's a hall full of guests arriving," Alric said sharply. "Where's my cloak? Why isn't it ready?"

Cater remained calm, walking over to the bed and laying the cloak down gently. "It's ready now, Your Highness," he said evenly. "Do you need anything else?"

Alric sighed, rubbing his temples as though trying to ease a headache. "Yes. I need you by my side all day. It's my birthday, which means everyone will want a moment with me. I can't keep track of it all."

He paused, picking up a folded piece of parchment from the desk. "But first, I need you to deliver this." He handed the note to Cater. "Take it to the new healer in town. My father says the man is gifted with herbs and remedies. I don't know what's written here, but he will."

Cater nodded, slipping the letter into his pocket. As he turned to leave, Alric's voice stopped him.

"And Cater," Alric said, his tone softer, "don't be late. I need you back before the party begins."

Cater gave him a small, reassuring smile. "I won't be."

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The healer's hut stood on the outskirts of town, a small wooden structure surrounded by thick forest. Cater approached it warily, an unshakable sense of unease settling over him. The air felt heavy, and the faint smell of herbs and smoke wafted from the open windows.

He knocked lightly on the door, but before his hand could fall a second time, it creaked open.

An elderly man with clouded, unseeing eyes appeared in the doorway. His movements were slow but deliberate, his presence unsettling.

"Hello, sir," Cater greeted, stepping inside hesitantly.

The man said nothing, turning silently toward a cluttered table filled with jars, dried plants, and open books. Cater followed cautiously.

"I'm Cater," he said, pulling the letter from his pocket. "The king asked me to deliver this to you."

The healer turned suddenly, his milky-white eyes locking onto Cater with unnerving precision. "I know who you are," he said, his voice low and steady.

Cater stiffened, caught off guard. "Oh… well, that makes this easier." He held out the letter, but instead of taking it, the man grabbed Cater's wrist with a grip far stronger than his frail appearance suggested.

"What is the son of the Dark Lord doing in a place as dangerous as Avalor?" the healer asked, his tone sharp.

Cater yanked his arm away, his heart pounding. "I don't know what you're talking about," he said, keeping his voice steady.

The healer chuckled, settling into a worn chair and gesturing for Cater to sit. Cater ignored the invitation, his body tense.

"You can hide it from others," the healer continued, "but not from me. I may be blind, but I see far more than most." He leaned forward, his voice dropping to a whisper. "You think the prophecy makes you a savior, don't you? That protecting the prince will bring peace. But you don't understand the cost of your mission."

Cater's jaw tightened. "What are you talking about?"

The healer reached into a leather bag, pulling out a tattered book. He flipped through its pages before handing it to Cater. "You've read the prophecy, haven't you? The part that says you'll protect the prince from danger?"

Cater nodded stiffly.

"Then you missed the rest," the healer said grimly. "Read this."

Cater's eyes scanned the page, and his stomach dropped as he read the words: 'The protector's actions will awaken a fate that could lead the chosen heir to ruin.'

"What kind of nonsense is this?" Cater demanded, slamming the book shut. "How would you even know what's written here? You're blind!"

The healer smirked. "Blind, but not powerless. I have more than one way to see, boy. But don't take my word for it. Keep going down this path, and you'll see for yourself what the prophecy truly means."

Cater's hands curled into fists, his anger bubbling beneath the surface. Without another word, he turned and stormed out of the hut, the healer's chilling words echoing in his mind.

Could protecting Alric really lead to his destruction?

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By the time Cater returned to the castle, the grand hall was alive with music and laughter. He found Alric waiting for him near the entrance, his impatience evident.

"There you are!" Alric exclaimed, grabbing Cater's arm. "What took you so long? Come on—the party is about to start, and I need you with me."

Cater forced the healer's warnings to the back of his mind, focusing on the present. "Apologies, Your Highness. I'm ready."

The hall was packed with nobles and knights, their festive attire glittering under the warm glow of chandeliers. Cater stayed close to Alric, quietly assisting him as the prince mingled with guests.

For a moment, Cater allowed himself to relax. Watching Alric laugh and smile, so full of life, made the healer's warnings seem distant and irrelevant. How could protecting someone like Alric ever lead to ruin?

But the thought lingered, refusing to fully leave him.

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As the night wore on, the party began to wind down. Alric, however, had indulged in far more wine than usual. He slumped into a chair, laughing loudly at something Cater couldn't hear.

"Alright, Your Highness," Cater said gently, helping him to his feet. "Let's get you to bed."

Alric mumbled something incoherent, leaning heavily on Cater as they made their way to his chambers. Once inside, Cater guided him to the bed and eased him down carefully.

As Cater turned to leave, Alric's hand shot out, grabbing his wrist. "Don't go," Alric murmured, his voice softer than Cater had ever heard it.

Cater hesitated, glancing down at the prince. "You've had too much to drink," he said lightly. "Rest now. You'll feel better in the morning."

But Alric didn't let go. Instead, he pulled Cater forward, catching him off guard. Cater stumbled slightly, finding himself pressed against Alric's chest.

The prince wrapped his arms around him in a loose embrace, his breath warm against Cater's ear. "Stay," he whispered.

For a moment, Cater froze, unsure of what to do. Then, slowly, he relaxed, allowing himself to lean into the hug.

He looked up at Alric, who was already half-asleep, and a small smile tugged at his lips. For once, Cater let himself forget the weight of the prophecy, the warnings, and his own dark secrets.

Maybe, just for tonight, he could let his guard down.

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