Chapter 5 Aug 18, 2025 Celeste Four days. I'd avoided him for four days. Hidden in my rooms, made excuses, sent regrets through servants. But I couldn't hide forever. Now I sat across from him at the royal table, and all I could think about was what I'd seen. Him with his head thrown back. Her between his legs. The sound he made when he said her name. He hadn't sent for me once. I should have been relieved. Instead, I felt like my skin was too thin, like everyone could see the secret burning behind my eyes. The knowledge sat in my chest like a weapon I didn't know how to use. I'd replayed that night over and over. Not just the scene-though God knew I couldn't stop seeing it-but what it meant. The King, who lectured me about duty and failure, taking his pleasure from a woman who wasn't his wife. A woman who despised me. And he'd seen me watching. Seen me and didn't look away. What did that mean? I sat in silence, barely touching my food, hands trembling slightly as I lifted my wine. Everyone else chatted like nothing had changed. But everything had changed. At least for me. I kept stealing glances at him, trying to read his face. Did he remember? Was he thinking about it too? Part of me wanted to catch his eye, to see that dangerous look again. The other part wanted to disappear entirely. Then he spoke. "You've been quiet lately," he said, cutting through the dinner conversation. His voice was casual, almost bored. "Lost your fire?" A few nobles chuckled. My fork froze halfway to my mouth. Heat rushed to my cheeks, but I forced myself to smile-controlled, perfect. He wants to play games? Fine. I had ammunition now. "Maybe I've learned there's no point talking to someone who doesn't listen," I said. My voice was steady despite the way my heart was racing. The laughter died. Silence fell over the table like a heavy curtain. I could feel everyone staring, holding their breath. His eyes lifted to mine-sharp, cutting. "Careful. You're speaking to your King." "And you're speaking to your son's wife," I replied quietly. There it was. The challenge hanging between us. I saw something flicker in his expression-surprise? Interest? I couldn't tell. But I felt powerful. For the first time in months, I felt like I had something he wanted to keep hidden. "You forget your place," he said, but his voice was softer now. Almost curious. "Do I?" I met his gaze directly. "Or do I finally understand it?" The silence stretched. His jaw tightened. I could see him calculating, trying to figure out what had changed. What I knew. I know exactly what you are, I thought. A hypocrite. Just like your son. I stood before the meal ended, my chair scraping against marble. Left without asking permission, my heels clicking down the corridor like tiny victories. Then- "Céleste." I stopped. The sound of my name in his voice made my spine straighten, made something flutter in my chest. I turned slowly, every inch the princess I'd been trained to be. "Your Majesty." He walked toward me, each step deliberate. I didn't back away. Couldn't. The knowledge of what I'd seen gave me strength I hadn't expected. "You're different," he said when he stopped in front of me. "Am I?" I tilted my head slightly. His eyes narrowed. "What's that supposed to mean?" I almost smiled. He's worried. Good. "Nothing at all," I said innocently. "Just that people aren't always what they seem." Understanding dawned in his expression. His face went very still. "Careful," he said quietly. "You're playing a dangerous game." "I'm not playing anything," I replied. "I'm just… learning. About how things really work here." We stared at each other. I could see him weighing his options, trying to decide how much I knew, what I might do with it. Let him wonder, I thought. Let him worry for once. "You think you're clever," he said finally. "I think I'm awake," I answered. "For the first time since I got here." His jaw shifted. Something changed in his expression-not quite respect, but close to it. "And what do you plan to do with this… awakening?" he asked. I let the question hang between us for a moment. Let him see that I was considering it, that I had choices now. "I suppose that depends," I said softly, "on whether you plan to keep treating me like a failure." He stepped closer. Too close. I could smell his scent-cedar and leather and something darker. My breath caught, but I didn't step back. "You have no idea what you're asking for," he said, his voice low and warning. "Don't I?" I whispered. For a moment, neither of us moved. The corridor was empty, silent except for our breathing. I could feel the heat radiating from his body, could see the pulse at his throat. This is power, I realized. This tension, this fear in his eyes. This is what I've been missing. Finally, he stepped back. I turned and walked away, leaving him standing there. And for once, I didn't look back. Behind me, I could feel his eyes following me down the corridor. The weight of his attention felt different now. Not dismissive or cruel. Hungry. Good, I thought. Let him want what he can't have. Just like I had been doing for months.