Chapter 68: Chapter 68: An Instinctive Doubt

Lillian’s eyes immediately filled with grateful tears.

"Thank you, Your Grace."

She clasped Elysia’s hands earnestly.

"When we return, I’ll embroider the finest baby bonnet for you. So that when your child is born, they’ll have the prettiest one in all the capital."

Elysia blinked in surprise.

Her child?

Hers...

and Cassiel’s?

The thought had never crossed her mind before.

For a brief moment, an image surfaced unbidden—a little boy or girl with bright eyes, sitting on Cassiel’s lap while he patiently taught them to read.

Heat crept into her cheeks.

She quickly pushed the thought aside.

The remainder of the verse salon passed peacefully.

Several noble ladies displayed remarkable literary talent, each presenting poems worthy of praise.

Yet by the end of the gathering, it was obvious where Queen Ilara’s and Vaelen’s favour rested.

Deborah.

Barring any unforeseen change, she would still become part of the Crown Prince’s Wing in this lifetime.

---

On the walk back toward the palace entrance, Elysia quietly reflected on everything that had happened.

Certain details of this life had already begun diverging from her previous one.

Yet the larger course of events seemed determined to return to its original path.

As for her stolen pen name...

She discovered she wasn’t particularly upset.

A name was only a name.

Someone could steal the title...

but never the talent behind it.

If necessary, she would simply choose another pen name and work with a more discreet publisher.

When she reached the Draevenor carriage, she found its door already open.

Cassiel sat inside.

A book rested comfortably in his hands as he leisurely turned another page.

"You’re back already?"

Elysia asked in surprise.

"I thought you’d spend longer speaking with His Majesty."

"Not particularly."

Without looking up, Cassiel calmly turned another page.

Curiosity stirred within her.

"What are you reading?"

She assumed it must be a military treatise...

or perhaps a volume of classical philosophy.

Unable to resist, she stepped into the carriage and leaned over to peek at the open page before he could close it.

Her eyes landed on a familiar passage.

"Cassiopeia pretended to leave in annoyance, but before she could take more than a step, he caught her wrist and drew her into his embrace.

Unable to resist any longer, she lifted her face to meet his kiss. Locked together, the two fell back onto the bed..."

Elysia froze.

Her entire face turned scarlet.

It was Legends of Cassiopeia.

Her own novel.

"It’s rather popular."

Cassiel finally closed the book.

"My brother gave it to me. It’s supposedly written by Alhena."

Elysia sat there in stunned silence.

His Majesty... actually read this?

A tiny crack appeared in her understanding of the world.

Then relief washed over her.

Fortunately... today’s events had kept her true identity hidden.

The first half of Legends of Cassiopeia was harmless enough.

The latter half...

She wished she could erase certain scenes from existence.

If King Zephyrus ever discovered she had written them, he would either praise her openly...

Or worse— ask how an unmarried young lady had managed to imagine such intimate encounters.

The humiliation alone would be enough to bury her alive.

Thankfully... that embarrassment now belonged entirely to Deborah.

Seeing Elysia sitting silently with flushed cheeks, Cassiel misunderstood completely.

She must think poorly of him for reading romantic fiction.

After a brief pause, he explained,

"I don’t usually read stories like this. It was simply a gift from my brother. I was only browsing through it."

Elysia hurriedly nodded.

"I see..."

Cassiel set the book aside.

"How was the salon?"

"It went fairly smoothly."

"And? Who caught the Queen’s attention?"

Elysia thought briefly.

"Deborah. She claimed to be Alhena."

Cassiel frowned almost immediately.

"And everyone believed her?"

Elysia looked at him in surprise.

"You don’t?"

He shook his head.

"I’ve only finished half the novel. But from what I’ve read..."

"The author’s temperament doesn’t resemble Deborah’s."

He paused before adding quietly,

"If anything... It reminds me more of you."

Elysia stared at him.

Neither Queen Ilara...

Nor Vaelen...

Nor anyone else had questioned Deborah’s claim.

Only Cassiel had instinctively doubted it.

Was his intuition truly that sharp?

For some reason... the realization pleased her.

A genuine smile bloomed across her face.

As the carriage rolled steadily toward Draevenor Manor, Elysia recounted everything that had happened with Lillian.

She finished by saying,

"...I questioned her afterward. She admitted she never wanted to compete for the position of Crown Princess. It was entirely Lady Melissa’s idea."

She sighed softly.

"But after today’s incident, our Draevenor Manor’s reputation will probably suffer once the rumours spread."

Cassiel listened quietly.

Most of her explanation barely registered.

Only one phrase lingered in his mind.

Our Draevenor Manor.

A faint smile tugged at the corner of his lips.

He liked the way it sounded.

Very much.

"As for everything else... It doesn’t matter."

He spoke casually.

"Reputation is the easiest thing in the world for others to discuss."

Elysia blinked.

"It doesn’t?"

He looked at her.

"No. People gossip behind closed doors. We live our own lives. We won’t hear most of it. And if someone is foolish enough to repeat those rumours in front of you..."

His voice remained calm.

"You may scold them, punish them or simply tell me. I’ll deal with it."

Elysia fell silent.

In her previous life, after marrying Vaelen, Queen Ilara had constantly reminded her that she represented the dignity of the Crown Prince’s Wing.

Every word...

Every action...

Every mistake...

Would reflect upon the royal family.

When she failed to bear an heir, she had been told she had disgraced the Crown Prince’s household.

She had spent years carrying that invisible burden.

Yet now...

Cassiel simply said,

"Tell me. I’ll deal with it."

For the second time in her life...

Elysia understood a truth that seemed almost painfully obvious.

Who you marry... really does matter.

A lot.

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