Chapter 7- The News
932 Words
The messenger lifted a sealed parchment. The Avernal royal seal was cracked, broken—meaning it had been opened on the road, too urgent to wait.
Delvin tore it open.
Read.
Read again, slower.
His lips trembled.
Violet stepped closer, but he didn’t see her yet.
His world had narrowed.
Finally, he turned, his voice hollow. “My father… he’s dying.”
The courtyard fell silent around them. Even the breeze seemed to hold its breath.
Violet reached out, fingers brushing his arm. “Delvin… I’m so sorry.”
At her touch he closed his eyes.
For a moment, the prince disappeared—and the son remained.
A son afraid of losing the one person he had left.
When he opened his eyes again, they glistened with something raw. “I have to leave, Violet.”
A knife turned in her chest, slow and deliberate.
Of course he did.
Of course he had to go.
But the selfish part of her—the terrified part—whispered Don’t leave me here. Not alone. Not with King Alden’s plans tightening around my neck.
She swallowed hard. “When do you depart?”
Delvin looked around the courtyard at his soldiers, at the restless horses, at the messenger holding the reins of his black stallion.
“Now.”
One word.
That was all it took for everything inside her to drop.
But he wasn’t done.
He turned fully to her. The world seemed to fall away. His hands cupped her cheeks—something bold, something intimate, something a prince should never do in front of others, but he didn’t care.
His forehead leaned against hers.
“Violet,” he breathed.
Her chest tightened painfully.
“I will return for you.”
Her throat closed.
“Delvin…”
“No.” His voice was firm, urgent. “Listen to me. Whatever happens here—whatever Celestia demands of you, whatever rumors they spread, whatever danger rises—I will come back. I swear it by my crown… and by my heart.”
Her breath stuttered.
And for a moment… she let herself believe it.
Because when he looked at her like that, she felt like something more than a maid. More than a pawn. More than a fragile soul tangled in two kings’ shadows.
She felt like someone worth fighting for.
She whispered, “Then I’ll wait.”
But even as she said it, fear dug claws into her.
Waiting wasn’t the problem.
Surviving Celestia in his absence was.
Delvin brushed his thumb along her jaw. “I will send word the moment I reach Avernal. And when my father stabilizes, I will return.”
“Stabilizes?” Violet echoed, heart sinking.
His silence was answer enough.
The messenger stepped forward again. “Prince Delvin, we must ride. Every hour counts.”
Delvin nodded once.
Then he did something that made the entire courtyard gasp.
He pulled Violet into his arms.
Held her.
Tightly.
Desperately.
As though she were the only anchor keeping him from breaking.
She clutched his tunic, breath shaking. “Please… be safe.”
He didn’t let go. “I should be the one saying that.”
He finally stepped back—but kept her hand for a long moment, as though the act of leaving physically hurt him.
“Violet…” he whispered. “Don’t disappear on me.”
Her heart jerked. “I won’t.”
Even though, deep inside, she feared disappearing wouldn’t be her choice at all.
At last he released her.
Mounted his stallion.
And with a final look—one filled with a thousand unspoken words—Prince Delvin of Avernal thundered out of Celestia, leading his men back home.
Violet remained frozen long after the gates closed behind him.
Her chest ached.
Her fingers trembled.
Her world felt suddenly colder.
And then—
A soft clink of jewelry behind her.
A slow, venom-sweet voice.
“I must say… that was quite the dramatic farewell.”
Violet stiffened.
Princess Elara stood several steps away, arms crossed, a cruel smile playing on her lips.
Of course.
Of course she would appear now.
“Touching,” Elara continued. “Almost made me tear up. But you really do fall perfectly into place, don’t you?”
Violet swallowed. “I don’t know what you mean.”
“Oh, darling… you don’t need to pretend.” The princess stepped closer, her perfume a sharp floral mix that made Violet’s stomach curl. “The prince is gone. Which means your usefulness to Celestia is suddenly much more… interesting.”
Violet’s pulse spiked. “I don’t understand.”
Elara leaned in.
Her whisper was sugar-coated poison.
“My father isn’t the only one who knows how to use pawns.”
The courtyard seemed to tilt.
Violet stepped back. “I—”
But Elara hand curled around her wrist, deceptively gentle, her nails brushing Violet’s skin like tiny blades.
“Do be careful while Delvin is gone,” she murmured. “Accidents happen when important eyes stop watching.”
Violet’s breath strangled her.
Elara released her and glided away, leaving the air colder than frost.
Violet exhaled shakily.
The king wanted her for his schemes.
The princess wanted her removed.
And the prince—the only person who protected her—was now miles away, racing toward a father who might already be dead.
Her knees weakened, and she pressed a hand to the nearest pillar to steady herself.
She inhaled.
Exhaled.
Then turned to return to her duties—or whatever version of duties a girl under royal suspicion still had—
- Writer
