Fated Hearts: Reborn to be His Duchess

Chapter 46: Chapter 46: Counter-Truths

The brief hesitation on Elysia’s face did not escape Vaelen.

His eyes narrowed immediately.

There it is.

Guilt.

For the first time since seeing her that day, something almost resembling satisfaction stirred inside him.

"So it is true."

A smug smile appeared.

"You speak endlessly about choosing my uncle, about admiring him and willingly becoming Duchess of Draevenor."

His gaze sharpened.

"And yet you’ve hidden a man who looks remarkably like me inside his manor."

The smile widened.

"Tell me, Elysia..."

His voice lowered.

"Do you regret it?"

She stared at him.

"Regret what?"

"Choosing him instead of me."

The answer came without hesitation.

"Not even slightly."

But Vaelen barely seemed to hear it.

As though he had already decided upon his own version of reality.

"You lashed out that day."

His expression grew strangely triumphant.

"You married my uncle to prove a point. And now?"

His eyes searched her face.

"You spend every night thinking about what you’ve lost."

Elysia felt physically ill.

"You cannot possibly be serious."

"Can I not?"

His confidence only grew.

"Perhaps that stable boy reminds you of me. Perhaps that’s why you keep him around."

The disgust that swept through Elysia was immediate.

Profound.

And entirely unhidden.

"Vaelen."

Her voice turned icy.

"Did your last illness permanently damage your mind?"

His smile faltered.

"Struck a nerve?"

"No."

She looked him up and down.

"I’m simply astonished."

The Crown Prince’s expression darkened.

Elysia continued mercilessly.

"If I truly missed you so desperately, wouldn’t I treasure someone who resembled you? Wouldn’t I dress him in silk? Feed him well? Keep him surrounded by every comfort imaginable?"

"Instead," she folded her arms, "the man spends his days shoveling manure."

Vaelen froze.

The image immediately resurfaced.

The stable.

The mud.

The filth.

The exhausted expression.

The man had looked miserable.

Not cherished.

Not protected.

Certainly not hidden as some treasured substitute.

The realization landed with uncomfortable force.

Elysia stared at him.

"You’re a grown man. The Crown Prince."

Her voice was flat.

"How are you this foolish?"

"You—"

His face darkened instantly.

But Elysia wasn’t finished.

"And another thing."

She took a deliberate step forward.

"My admiration for the Duke of Draevenor is genuine."

Every word landed cleanly.

"Marrying him was a considered choice. Never a whim. I do not regret it. I do not dream about you. I rarely even think about you at all."

A pause.

"Today is a celebration. I have recently eaten. So spare me the nauseating fantasy."

The insult struck home.

Vaelen’s jaw clenched.

Hard.

Then Elysia tilted her head.

Studying him.

"Actually..."

Something dangerous entered her smile.

"I’ve been wondering something."

His eyes narrowed.

"What?"

"You keep asking whether I regret marrying Cassiel. Whether I still care about you. Whether I miss you."

She took another step forward.

"Why?"

For the first time, uncertainty flickered across his face.

Elysia smiled.

Slowly.

"Could it be that you’re the one regretting things?"

Silence.

"Could it be that you’re the one who cannot let go?"

The color drained from Vaelen’s face.

Then returned all at once.

Because her words struck far closer to the truth than she knew.

The dreams had returned.

Again.

And again.

And again.

Some were memories.

The two of them laughing together as children.

Others were stranger.

Fragmented glimpses of a future that felt both familiar and impossible.

A different life.

A different palace.

A different marriage.

One where Elysia stood beside him instead of Cassiel.

The images never stayed long.

But they lingered.

And lately they had been appearing more frequently.

Now she stood directly before him.

Close enough for the faint fragrance of her hair to reach him.

Close enough to stir every uncomfortable emotion he had spent weeks suppressing.

Irritation.

Restlessness.

Possessiveness.

Something darker.

Without thinking, he shoved her.

Hard.

"Nonsense!"

His voice cracked through the corridor.

"The sight of you disgusts me!"

"Why would I regret anything?"

"You should be grateful you’re no longer embarrassing yourself by chasing after me!"

The force caught Elysia completely off guard.

Her back slammed into the stone wall.

Pain shot across her shoulder.

The impact stole her breath.

For a moment, neither of them moved.

Vaelen’s anger vanished instantly.

Realization flashed across his face.

His hand lifted reflexively.

As though to help her.

As though to apologize.

Then—

"What exactly is happening here?"

A deep voice echoed through the corridor.

Both froze.

King Zephyrus approached from the far end of the passage.

Vaelen’s arm immediately dropped.

"Father."

The King looked between them.

His gaze lingered briefly on his son’s expression.

Then shifted to Elysia.

Her posture.

The faint tension in her shoulders.

The hand still pressed against her back.

"Elysia."

Concern entered his voice.

"Are you injured?"

Before she could answer—

"She’s fine."

Vaelen spoke too quickly.

King Zephyrus’ eyes immediately sharpened.

"I was speaking to Elysia."

The rebuke landed heavily.

Vaelen fell silent.

A familiar memory surfaced in Elysia’s mind.

Years ago.

Another question.

Another lie.

King Zephyrus had once asked why she and Vaelen had never consummated their marriage.

Before she could answer, Vaelen had spoken for her.

"Elysia has been unwell."

"I’ve delayed things out of consideration."

And when King Zephyrus turned to verify it—

Vaelen had given her a look.

A warning.

Cold.

Sharp.

Unmistakable.

So she had lied for him.

Protected him.

Covered for him.

Just as she always had.

Not this time.

Elysia slowly straightened.

Then she looked directly at the King.

"In truth, Your Majesty, I am injured."

King Zephyrus’ expression darkened immediately.

"What happened?"

Beside him, Vaelen went rigid.

Elysia answered calmly.

"His Highness pushed me."

Silence.

The corridor seemed to freeze.

Even the servants nearby stopped breathing.

King Zephyrus blinked.

Vaelen stared.

Clearly neither had expected such a direct answer.

The King’s voice dropped.

"Vaelen pushed you? Why?"

Elysia sighed softly.

"I cannot claim to understand his reasoning. He stopped me while I was on my way to meet you. He repeatedly demanded to know whether I regretted marrying the Duke of Draevenor."

King Zephyrus’ expression became increasingly unpleasant.

"I told him I did not."

Her voice remained mild.

"That answer appears to have upset him."

Then she touched her shoulder.

"And so he pushed me."

The silence that followed was far more frightening than any shout.

Slowly—

Very slowly—

The King turned toward his son.

And Vaelen suddenly realized that being caught in a lie was not the worst outcome.

Being caught telling the truth might be much worse.

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