Fated Hearts: Reborn to be His Duchess

Chapter 47: Chapter 47: The Snapped Spring

Vaelen’s face turned deathly pale.

King Zephyrus’ expression darkened immediately.

The warmth that had colored his features when speaking to Elysia vanished without a trace.

Only the King remained.

Cold.

Authoritative.

And deeply displeased.

His gaze settled upon his son.

"Is what Elysia says true?"

Vaelen opened his mouth.

Nothing came out.

The silence was answer enough.

King Zephyrus’ eyes narrowed.

Slowly, he turned toward the attendant standing several steps behind the Crown Prince.

"You."

The man nearly collapsed under the King’s attention.

"Speak."

King Zephyrus’ voice was calm.

Which somehow made it more terrifying.

"If you conceal the truth, you will answer to me personally."

The attendant immediately dropped to his knees.

"Your Majesty!"

His forehead struck the floor.

"It is true."

His voice trembled violently.

"His Highness pushed the Duchess."

The corridor became silent.

Painfully silent.

King Zephyrus stared at his son for several long moments.

Then disappointment settled across his face.

A disappointment that cut deeper than anger.

"Have my recent warnings meant nothing?"

His voice was low.

Controlled.

"I told you to comport yourself as the Crown Prince. I told you to think before acting. And yet here you are harassing Elysia over childish nonsense."

The King’s expression hardened.

"Need I remind you that she is now your aunt by marriage?"

Vaelen lowered his head.

For once, he offered no defense.

No excuses.

No argument.

After several moments, King Zephyrus finally turned away from him.

His gaze softened slightly when it landed on Elysia.

"The fault is mine."

His voice carried genuine regret.

"I have failed to discipline my son properly."

Elysia blinked.

The apology surprised even her.

"Your Majesty—"

"No."

King Zephyrus raised a hand.

"You deserve an apology."

His expression remained grave.

"How badly are you hurt? Should I summon the royal physician? We cannot risk a lasting injury."

For a brief moment, Elysia felt something bitter twist inside her chest.

In her previous life, no one had stood beside her.

Not when Sylrienne ruined her reputation.

Not when the rumors spread.

Not when she cried herself to sleep wondering why no one believed her.

Back then she had been alone.

Her father was gone.

General Calen Hartwell was gone.

Her brothers were gone.

Vaelen had abandoned her.

And no one considered an orphan girl’s dignity worth protecting.

Now everything was different.

Not because the world had become kinder.

But because she was Duchess of Draevenor.

Because she was Cassiel Drakemont’s wife.

Status changed everything.

It was a cruel lesson.

One she had learned far too late.

Suppressing the thought, Elysia inclined her head.

"Thank you for your concern, Your Majesty."

"My injury is minor."

Then her expression became serious.

"However... there is a far more urgent matter."

---

Meanwhile, inside the Gilded Hall, Princess Sylrienne’s attention had long since drifted from her own birthday celebration.

The musicians played.

The guests chatted.

The servants moved through the hall carrying refreshments.

Sylrienne noticed none of it.

Her thoughts remained fixed upon one thing.

Elysia.

The wine had been prepared weeks ago.

Long before her birthday.

Long before today’s banquet.

At first, the aphrodisiac had not even been intended for Elysia.

It had been meant for someone else.

A young nobleman.

The youngest son of a distinguished general.

Handsome.

Well-born.

Accomplished.

Most importantly—

Suitable.

At least in Sylrienne’s opinion.

Her parents had other ideas.

They wished her to marry one of the newly elevated nobles who had risen through merit rather than birth.

The suggestion offended her.

A princess deserved greatness.

Not practicality.

She had considered using the wine on the young lord herself.

If circumstances forced them into scandal, her parents would have no choice but to approve the marriage.

Unfortunately, he had not attended the banquet.

Still.

The wine had not gone to waste.

Using it on Elysia was almost as satisfying.

Perhaps even more so.

Sylrienne checked the time again.

Enough time had passed.

The effects should already be overwhelming.

A thrill raced through her.

Would Elysia be disheveled?

Crying?

Begging?

What expression would she wear when everyone discovered her surrounded by men?

The anticipation became unbearable.

It was time.

Sylrienne stood abruptly.

Across the hall, Deborah immediately noticed.

Their eyes met.

Understanding flashed between them.

Deborah smiled.

"Your Highness, would you care for some fresh air?"

Several young ladies nearby eagerly agreed.

Within moments, a small group had formed.

Sylrienne, Deborah, and several noble daughters eager for entertainment.

Together they left the hall.

---

The corridor leading toward the guest chambers was unusually quiet.

Sylrienne had arranged that herself.

She had dismissed the guards earlier under various pretexts.

No interruptions.

No witnesses.

No complications.

Only the perfect scandal.

The closer they came to the chamber door, the faster her pulse became.

Then—

Voices.

A man.

And a woman.

The words were indistinct.

Muffled through thick wood.

But unmistakably intimate.

"How did things end up like this?"

A man’s voice.

Then—

"I don’t know..."

A woman sounded breathless.

"I feel terrible..."

A pause.

Then softly—

"Please..."

The rest blurred together.

Sylrienne’s eyes widened.

Heat rushed to her face.

Even she hadn’t expected things to progress this quickly.

Beside her, several noble ladies exchanged scandalized looks.

Deborah covered her mouth dramatically.

"Oh my."

Sylrienne’s excitement reached its peak.

This was it.

The moment she had been waiting for.

Without hesitation, she shoved the door open.

The heavy wood slammed against the wall.

"Who dares behave so shamelessly inside the royal palace?!"

A startled gasp echoed through the chamber.

The voice sounded oddly familiar.

But Sylrienne was already looking ahead.

And then—

Everything stopped.

The man standing inside was not one of the guards.

He wore dark royal robes.

The royal signet.

The royal diadem.

Authority radiated from him like a living thing.

King Zephyrus.

Her father.

The blood drained from Sylrienne’s face.

"...Father?"

The word escaped as a broken whisper.

Her mind simply refused to process what she was seeing.

No.

No.

This wasn’t possible.

Where were the guards?

Why was her father here?

Panic surged through her.

Then her gaze shifted.

And landed on the disheveled woman in King Zephyrus’ arms.

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