Chapter 22. The Weight of Misconception

Alina couldn't escape the unease settling in her chest. The whispers in the hallways, the conflicting accounts of Prince Sheen's actions, the way his cold commands contrasted with the fleeting moments of something almost vulnerable—none of it made sense.

She had spent her life trusting what she saw with her own eyes. Yet, here, in the tangled web of palace politics, truth was nothing more than a fragmented illusion, shifting with every tongue that spoke it.

She found herself wandering the outer courtyards, where the moon cast silver light upon the stone pathways. The air was cool, crisp, but it did little to ease her restless mind.

Had she truly misjudged him?

She thought of the courtyard orders, the cold way he had uttered the words: See it done.

The rumours had only solidified what she already feared — Prince Sheen was ruthless. A man who did not hesitate to wield his power against those who opposed him.

And yet…

She remembered the way his fingers had curled against the balcony railing as though holding something back. The way his voice had softened—not in kindness, but in something heavier, something that spoke of battles not yet seen.

You mistake power for cruelty, and mercy for weakness.

Which was the lie? The man the court feared? Or the one who had let her walk away when she had heard far too much?

Alina exhaled sharply, dragging a hand through her hair. Perhaps it didn't matter. Perhaps she was foolish to dwell on this at all. Whether he was a monster or not, he was still a prince, and she was a nobody.

She was not meant to be tangled in his world.

Yet, she couldn't shake the feeling that, somehow, she already was.

By the time she returned to the servant quarters, the halls had grown quiet, save for the flickering of torches lining the walls. But as she approached, hushed voices reached her ears.

"—should not have been spared."

Alina slowed her steps.

"His Highness was too lenient," another voice murmured. "Minister Yuan's son still breathes. A dangerous move."

A third voice scoffed. "Too lenient? We've seen what happens when the prince is merciless. The court calls him a tyrant. But when he shows restraint, they call him weak."

A heavy pause followed.

Alina's stomach twisted.

Had she only been listening to the parts she wanted to hear? The parts that made it easier to believe he was a villain?

She stepped away before she could hear more. Her heart pounded as she walked, but this time, it wasn't just out of uncertainty.

It was out of realization.

Perhaps she was wrong about him.

Or worse—perhaps everyone else was.