Chapter 18: "Oaths Inked in Silence(1)"

"You really had to go that far? Everything was smooth—then you go and scare her half to death," Prince grumbled inside me.

I took a breath, steady and slow. "It was necessary. The slave she came with—he's not just a bodyguard. He's in love with her. I've seen that kind of loyalty before. And if we'd let that run unchecked, it might've grown. She could've ended up loving him back. That kind of love leads to rash decisions. He'd kill the Count to free her. You know what that would mean."

"Losing her," Prince finished with a tired sigh.

"A pawn we can't afford to lose."

"Exactly. She's too important. She'll be part of a major deal with the protagonist in the future. If she breaks free now, that advantage goes to him. But now... she's tied to us. And more importantly, she knows the cost of betrayal."

Prince gave a careless chuckle. "You're overthinking. She signed the contract, didn't she? She can't cross you. That's how these things work."

I smirked. "For now, yes. But for how long? Contracts hold the body. They don't bind the heart. She's still half-human. And humans… they follow their hearts. If she falls for someone else—anyone—then that loyalty will shift. One year? Two? She'd resent me. Maybe even betray me. That's why I'm not just binding her with words—I have to win her over. Truly."

Prince chuckled again, this time with mock affection. "Ah, I knew it. You're just like me. Pretending you're above it all."

"No," I said firmly. "I'm not like you. You'd have killed that slave the moment you saw the threat. Taken her by force. Shackled her with fear. But I don't need fear to bind someone. I gave her trust. I let her know I didn't like interference, sure—but I didn't restrict her. That's not weakness, it's clarity. I told her I don't love her, but maybe one day I might. That gives her hope. I told her I wouldn't lie, which gives her stability. Hope, trust, truth. That's all anyone really needs."

Prince was silent.

The next morning, I departed for the desert.

Adriana's POV

By the time I returned home, the night had cloaked everything in silence. Shadows clung to the walls, and not a soul stirred. I slipped into my room, undressed, and laid still on my bed, feigning sleep—but my thoughts wouldn't let me rest.

My day had begun with a tremble.

A servant handed me a folded note before sunrise. Plain paper. No crest. No sender. Just a few ominous lines: "Meet me tonight or your truth will no longer remain yours."

I might've dismissed it as one of those petty extortion games, the kind you hear whispered about in noble circles. But then I turned it over.

In tiny, deliberate handwriting were the words: Transaction with Countess Dextrose.

The blood drained from my face.

I stared at the ink like it might crawl off the paper. Only a handful of people even knew about that deal. And none of them had anything to gain by revealing it. Why now? Was it Countess Dextrose herself? But she'd been complicit—why would she sabotage me?

Whoever it was, they knew too much.

I had no choice. I had to meet them.

I took Casin with me. He's not a warrior, but he's loyal to the bone. If things went south, he'd stand in front of me without hesitation. That was all I needed. And if the threat proved weak? I wouldn't hesitate to order him to strike.

The building was quiet, forgotten by time. I slipped inside, guided by instinct and fear.

When I entered the room, he was already there—waiting. I couldn't see his face. A mask covered his features. Something about the way he stood, the way he watched, made me uneasy.

Still, I didn't flinch.

"Who are you? What do you know? And why in the world do you know it?" I asked, standing tall.

He didn't answer immediately. He just tilted his head, like he was appraising me. The silence stretched too long before his lips finally moved beneath the mask.

Adriana's POV CONTINUED...

"Relax. And before I answer anything, tell me—did you come alone?" the man asked, his voice calm, almost coaxing, as if trying to settle the storm brewing within me.

The question caught me off guard. For a fleeting second, I considered lying. It would have been easy. But something inside me—an instinct sharper than reason—screamed, Don't.

If you lie to this man, you'll regret it.

My heart was pounding, but I trusted that inner voice. It had saved me before.

"...No. I brought a guard," I admitted, my voice quieter than I intended.

To my surprise, the corners of his mouth curved into a knowing smile. "Didn't think you'd be honest. I half-expected a blade to the throat."

He paused, studying me. "But I suppose you're not foolish. Good. Let's call it even."

Even? The ease with which he read me sent a shiver down my spine. I had come prepared to corner a stranger, maybe even eliminate him if needed. And yet—he already seemed three steps ahead.

Without another word, he stood and moved across the room. Calm, composed, like this was just another evening chat. Then, like a gentleman from some old noble court, he pulled out a chair and gestured for me to sit.

There was something serpentine about his grace—elegant, but dangerous. You could never be sure if he was coiled to strike or simply basking in the sun. A man like that is never without venom.

Still, I couldn't show hesitation. Instead, I narrowed my eyes and let sarcasm guide my tongue.

"Charming. First, you blackmail a woman to meet you in the dead of night. Then you act like some perfect host. Should I be grateful you didn't bring wine and roses?"

My words were sharp, meant to provoke. If I rattled him, maybe I'd get the truth out of him faster—and get out of here.

But his face remained unreadable. He didn't flinch.

"Adriana, if you're done tossing daggers, we should talk. I don't have all night. Here's something you should know—I'm loyal to those on my side, and merciless to those who aren't. You decide which you want to be."

I stared at him, searching for an opening in that smooth, steady voice. But all I heard was a riddle I didn't care to solve.

"You say that like you're offering me a choice. You haven't even told me who you are. I don't know your name, or your face. All I've seen so far is a mask and a threat."

For a moment, I thought my challenge had broken through. But he simply nodded, agreeing.

"You're right. This isn't how alliances are normally formed. But I couldn't exactly walk into your estate uninvited, could I? My name, my identity—I'll share everything. But first, I need your word. I need you to become my ally."

He lifted his hands, placating, almost playful. "Before you storm off again, let me be clear—I'm willing to sign a magic contract. You know what that means. Binding. Unbreakable. If I betray you, I suffer the price."

The moment he said those two words—magic contract—my thoughts snapped into focus. I had my answer. At least part of it. He was serious. Serious enough to put himself at risk.

Still, I wasn't about to lower my guard. Not when Casin was outside, ready.

But then he tilted his head and said something that startled me more than anything else had tonight. "Before we continue, I suggest you ask your guard to leave. He's been trying a little too hard to listen in."

I stiffened. How did he know? I hadn't seen or heard a thing. He must've been aware of Casin's presence the entire time—and yet, he let him stay?

That meant only one thing: he was powerful. Definitely more powerful than Casin. Perhaps more powerful than me.

Even so, I hesitated. I needed some kind of reassurance.

"How do I know you won't try something once he leaves?"

Instead of calming me, he leaned forward slightly, his voice dropping to a low murmur. "I didn't drag you here to hurt you, Adriana. If I wanted to, I would've done it already. But I am the kind of man who doesn't like being doubted without reason."

It wasn't reassurance. It was a warning. And I knew I had no choice.

I gestured toward the door, dismissing Casin.

Now we were alone.

He leaned back in his chair and began to speak—this time more openly. He told me he knew about my life, about the oppression I lived under. He didn't want to use that against me, he said, but he did intend to kill my husband.

The words shouldn't have felt comforting. But somehow, they were. I had long dreamed of being free of that man.

Still, I was no fool. I asked him, bluntly, "What do you want in return?"

His answer? Marriage.

Not desire. Not control. Not a favor. He wanted to marry me.

I blinked, struggling to grasp his logic. There were many beautiful women in the kingdom. Surely some would give themselves to him willingly. So why me?

I had no influence. No wealth. I was a political pawn and a half-blood at that.

He could've easily claimed me without the formality—yet he insisted on this. Why?

Before I could voice any of this, he said gently, "You don't need to overthink it."

But how could I not?