I Reborn to Save Her, She Loved Him

Chapter 7

"Cedric and I have never had anything improper between us, ever."

Rowena's firm, earnest promise was still ringing in Alistair's ears, but the scene unfolding before his eyes hit like a bolt out of the blue, shredding her words to pieces in an instant.

Alistair froze stock-still where he stood, every drop of blood in his veins turning to ice.

Just then, Cedric noticed he was there. All color drained from his face in a heartbeat, and he dropped to his knees in a panic, begging for mercy.

"Your Highness, please spare me!"

Rowena spun around sharply, her gaze locking with Alistair's, and a jolt of unaccountable panic flared in her chest.

The next second, Cedric slammed both knees fully to the ground, his voice cracking with suppressed sobs as he pleaded, "Your Highness! I had lost control of myself just now, I couldn't help how I felt! Don't take your anger out on the Marshal, please! If you're furious, I'll give my life to earn your forgiveness!"

Before Alistair could even get a single word out, Cedric had already jumped straight to offering up his own life as atonement.

Alistair's fingers curled so tight into his palms that his nails dug into the flesh, his voice low and icy. "I haven't said a single thing yet, and here you are covering every base first. Makes it look like if I don't hold you accountable, I'm the one being unreasonable and cold-hearted."

Cedric went deathly pale on the spot, his whole body shaking uncontrollably.

Rowena glanced at Cedric with a complicated mix of emotions in her eyes, hesitated for a split second, then stepped forward and shielded him behind her back.

She lowered her eyes and gave Alistair a small, respectful bow, her tone steady and unflinching. "If Your Highness intends to hand out punishment, I will take full responsibility for every bit of it."

An ice-cold, iron fist seemed to close around Alistair's heart and squeeze hard. He stared at Rowena for a long, heavy moment, and finally spoke, his voice rough and hoarse. "All I want is for you to explain this to me."

Rowena froze slightly. She lifted her eyes and caught sight of Alistair's already reddened rims, and finally let out a soft sigh. "Your Highness is of noble birth. You ought to marry a well-born young lady you truly care for. I am far beneath you. I have been aiming far above my station to be matched to you.

"If the royal house hadn't arranged this marriage alliance, you and I would probably never have crossed paths in this lifetime. This noble engagement was never a good fit to begin with..."

Her tone was even, but every word that fell from her lips was a fine, sharp needle, driving straight into Alistair's heart, leaving him gasping for air through the searing pain.

'Rowena, do you actually think we're not right for each other, or have you had someone else in your heart this whole time?'

"Enough! Stop talking!" He couldn't stomach another word.

Turning on his heel, Alistair fled the scene as fast as his legs could carry him, every move dripping with unvarnished humiliation.

As the night deepened, Rowena finally headed back to the royal bedchamber to rest.

But she didn't climb onto the soft, plush mattress. Instead, she laid out a bedding set on the cold floor and slept there, just like she'd done before.

The chamber was so quiet you could hear a pin drop.

Alistair lay at his side, gazing at the shadowed figure on the floor not far away, lit only by the cool, pale moonlight streaming in through the window.

After who knew how long, a low, rough voice cut slowly through the stillness of the room.

"Rowena, I really do want to make this work between us. And I mean it when I say I'll help you get back to the battlefield, get your command back. Can't you trust me just this once? Just one time..."

There was no mistaking the desperate plea in those final words. But Rowena's breathing on the floor stayed slow and even. The woman who was normally hyper-vigilant to even the smallest shift in her surroundings gave no sign she'd heard a thing.

Still, Alistair couldn't force another word out. His eyes burned bright red, stinging so bad he could barely hold back tears.

In the weeks that followed, Rowena never once slept in bed.

After all that back and forth between them, their frigid relationship had finally circled right back to how it was at the very start.

One day, in a private second-floor booth by the window of a European-style tavern on the busiest avenue in the heart of the royal city, Percival stared at Alistair in complete confusion, his tone sharp with frustrated disappointment, the kind you use when someone you care about keeps making the same stupid mistake.

"Alistair! Have you lost your mind? Why are you moping around, all broken up over some headstrong woman?"

Alistair's gaze went dark. All he could manage was a faint, bitter smile.

When Percival saw that look, he realized his friend was actually dead serious about her. He went quiet for a beat, at a total loss for words.

After a long moment, he poured himself a cup of fruit wine and sighed softly. "Love's the most unpredictable thing there is. If someone's heart's already set on another person, no matter how much time and effort you pour into them, it's all for nothing.

"And let's not forget, you got publicly dressed down by the king for her last time, and she still treats you like that. That's more than enough proof she doesn't care about you at all."

At that, Alistair couldn't help but defend himself in a low murmur. "Last time wasn't for her. I was speaking to Father from the heart when I offered that counsel. If the kingdom keeps letting the border barbarians raid and plunder as they please, the whole country will fall to ruin sooner or later."

Percival fell silent again at those words.

After a long beat, he stared out the window at the bustling royal city streets, his gaze distant. "Even if you care about every last person in this kingdom, right now all the court power is in your brother's hands. You don't have the sway to change a single thing about it."

Alistair jolted, shock flooding his chest. He'd never guessed that Percival, who was always so carefree and casual, laid-back and scatterbrained on the surface, could see the court's power dynamics so clearly.

Percival flashed a quick, easy grin right after, laid-back as ever. "So c'mon, Ninth Prince. Why don't you take a page out of my book? Stop overthinking all this future and gain and loss garbage. Just live in the moment and enjoy yourself while you can!"

Alistair could only give a bitter, hollow smile in response.

He remembered all too clearly the horrific fate that would befall the kingdom three years later: the empire would fall, and every last member of the royal clan would be slaughtered. How could he possibly turn a blind eye to all that and stop caring about what came next?

Just then, a sharp, urgent cry from a messenger rider cut through the noisy hum of the street outside the tavern.

"Urgent report! Critical urgent report! The border fortress has fallen! Barbarian forces are invading in full force! We've lost six cities in a row along the national border defense line!"

Clink!

The silver wine cup in Alistair's hand slammed to the floor, shattering into countless shards. His face drained of all color in an instant, and an icy chill flooded his entire body.