Page 13 of Revert (The Royal Chronicles #4)

Confusion gave way to wariness, wariness turned to terror.

This had never happened before in either timeline.

I tried to remember the last time I’d even been in the king’s presence and could only recall Princess Lisette’s farewell dinner months prior before she departed to marry the prince of the kingdom plagued with a vanishing curse, an event that had felt more like a last meal than a celebratory feast.

I’d always done my best to stay out of His Majesty’s way, and other than the veiled threats to remind me who held the power, he’d seemed content to ignore me in return, leaving his son to manage me while he retreated in his world of gold, secrets, and relentless ambitions, like a dragon guarding its hoard.

All the previous subtle deviations in this timeline were nothing to this.

What accounted for his unwanted notice? The only possibility I could conjure was that that Prince Castiel had informed him about my forbidden wanderings, or that yesterday he’d deliberately led me to a book I wasn’t meant to see.

No amount of time would have been sufficient to prepare me for what awaited behind those doors—a meeting that began on ceremony could end on an execution.

The throne room was empty of courtiers and councilors, save for the rows of guards lining the vast chamber like statues carved from shadow.

A single throne sat raised on its dais beneath a vault of arched stone, an executioner’s seat disguised in polished wood and velvet.

Darkness pooled like waiting predators, columns loomed along the walls like watchful sentinels, and narrow windows—more slit than glass—filtered in blades of grey light, too thin to offer warmth or welcome, leaving only the torchlight’s ominous dance.

The king’s formidable presence saturated the chamber, thick as smoke, coiling through the air with the slow menace of panther circling its prey.

Gilded light caught the sharp lines of his hardened countenance, the edge of his smile too controlled to be kind.

His stillness was deliberate, rehearsed, a lion waiting for the perfect moment it chose to strike… with me as the quarry.

Each step I took echoed sharply in the suffocating silence, a countdown I could neither stop nor escape. I lowered my eyes in a deferential nod.

Only when I drew closer did I notice Prince Castiel, standing just behind his father’s throne.

Gone was the guarded softness I thought I’d glimpsed during tea, the fleeting intimacy exchanged in the hidden library.

Here he was every inch the crown prince— cloaked in regal authority, armored in indifference, standing as if steeled for battle, though no blade had yet been drawn.

I froze beneath the weight of his silence. Whatever answers I had hoped to find in his gaze were denied me; he stared straight ahead, his eyes fixed above me, as if I weren’t there at all. His indifference hurt more than I expected, almost as much as the dagger once pressed to my heart.

He offered no help, his face unreadable, cold and distant, leaving me to drown.

Yet I saw the cracks—the rigid tension in his shoulders, the way his gaze never quite settled on mine.

A rush of hatred surged, but I forced the emotion down, locking it behind a facade of calm I couldn’t afford to let crack, composure my only key to survival.

It would be premature to assume the prince had orchestrated this unexpected summons.

Though I had no reason to trust him, blaming him too hastily would only blind me to the greater danger.

The king had eyes everywhere—any whisper of suspicion or disobedience, any flicker of deviation from the expected script, would have been enough to drawn his scrutiny.

In the end, it didn’t matter who had reported me—only that despite my best efforts to avoid detection, the king had noticed an alteration to my behavior… and was now probing.

“My dear future daughter,” the king greeted, each syllable of his silken voice steeped in false civility. No amount of unsettling warmth could disguise the venom coiled beneath his words. “What a pleasure to see you again. I trust you are enjoying your time in our grand kingdom.”

I curtsied, spine rigid, barely suppressing my tremors. “Your Majesty is most gracious.”

“Forgive the sudden summons,” he said. “I thought it long overdue that we spoke properly. I’ve found it wise to…periodically touch base with those soon to carry Thorndale’s future.”

The thought of any alignment with his throne turned my stomach, but I kept my expression neutral.

“I am humbled by your generosity. It is my greatest honor to join the kingdom of Thorndale.” I bowed my head in a show of respect, as well as to hide any unwanted expression of faltering emotion as the words tasted like poison on my tongue.

The flicker of a smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth, but it never reached his eyes. “Let us dispense with pleasantries. I imagine you’re curious why I’ve summoned you.”

My pulse thundered in my ears. “Of course, Your Majesty,” I said, careful to keep my tone even.

He rose with slow, practiced grace, each movement a controlled display of dominance.

“I brought you here to ensure you understand what happens to those who reach beyond their station. It’s come to my attention that you’ve taken an.

.. interest in certain parts of the castle and its history.

” His gaze sharpened. “Archival records. Old halls. Forgotten murals.”

My breath caught. I didn’t flinch, but the faintest tremor betrayed me, a flicker he surely caught. I didn’t dare glance at Prince Castiel, who stood silent behind the throne, unreadable.

The king stepped down from the dais, advancing one intimidating step at a time as if closing in for the kill. Though my body screamed to retreat, I held my ground. “Thorndale holds many secrets. Some meant to be discovered, while others…are not.”

Every instinct screamed for me for me to run…but I remained frozen as he closed the distance.

“Curiosity can be a noble trait,” he continued. “In a queen, it can even be useful. But curiosity must be carefully directed, lest it become a danger.” His smile tightened. “After all, even the most beautiful pieces can be broken if they no longer fit the board.”

The threat behind his civility rang clear. I kept my voice steady. “Of course, Your Majesty. I only sought to better understand the kingdom I will soon serve.”

“A noble sentiment and commendable goal.” His presence pressed in, stopping directly in front of me, close and intimidating; my legs trembled with the effort to remain still rather than instinctively stepping back.

“And one I hope is true. But history is not always kind to clever women. Some become queens, others...traitors. History has decided both.” His gaze darkened as it swept over me like a judgment.

“Your usefulness is… conditional, girl. Thorndale has no patience for broken pieces.”

“You needn’t worry.” Prince Castiel interjected suddenly. His voice was controlled, but I caught a flicker of some raw emotion in his otherwise impassive gaze. “She’s clever enough to know where not to step.”

I dared a glance towards him. His tone had been deliberate and carefully chosen, so that the line could be read as either a caution…or defense.

The king’s attention returned to me, contemplative. “I’ve noticed changes in the court. Subtle ones, almost as if someone has begun to shift pieces without understanding the board they’re playing on.” His eyes gleamed with veiled menace. “You wouldn't know anything about that…would you, Princess?”

My heart pounded as I evenly met his gaze, willing my expression to remain placid. ”I’m afraid I don't understand the question.” A lie. I heard his unspoken threat, but had no escape.

“Don’t you?” The king’s smile reappeared, more grimace as he turned towards the prince. “And what of you, Son? Have you noticed anything…unusual?”

I stiffened, bracing myself for him to placate the king. “Nothing of concern, Father.” His voice was flat, dutiful…but there was a subtle edge beneath it, almost defensive. Surely I’d imagined it.

“Good.” The king’s tone chilled further. “Because if there were…you would tell me. Immediately.”

“Of course.” Prince Castiel inclined his head in a deferential nod, but his jaw pulsed with a strain that spoke louder than his words.

The king’s attention returned to me, his final move yet to be played. He began to circle, slow and deliberate, stopping directly in front of me so I couldn’t escape the full force of his hate-filled eyes. He reached out, not a strike, but something far worse.

His gloved fingers brushed beneath my chin, tilting it upward in a mockery of gentleness. Not painful, but possessive, like inspecting an object already in his collection. I couldn’t help but compare his cruel touch to the gentle fingers of his son.

“Tell me, Princess Bernice,” he mused. “Do you believe in fate? Or have you deluded yourself into thinking you can rewrite it?”

I yearned to say a word in defense but I couldn’t speak; I wasn’t sure I remembered how.

Still Prince Castiel didn’t look at me, but I caught the slight movement—a brief dip of his head, almost a warning—subtle, almost imperceptible, but unmistakable, as if he sensed the burning retorts I ached to speak but didn’t dare.

Yet the defiant part of me, blind to reason, couldn’t stay silent once I shook myself free from silence’s unyielding grip.

“Your Majesty’s concern for my loyalty is…

touching. I’ve always believed loyalty should be earned, not demanded.

I hadn’t realized my actions—or your rule—warranted such scrutiny. ”

The moment the words slipped free I regretted my rash boldness. Though the words appeared innocent on the surface, no polished turn of phrase could disguise I had just spoken back to the sole authority who ruled this kingdom with an iron hand veiled in courtly silk.

The air immediately shifted. The king’s sinister smile didn’t falter—but something colder slipped into his eyes, a flicker of amusement edged with warning. “Careful, my dear,” he said softly. “Even truths, when spoken too freely, can sound dangerously close to treason.”

Prince Castiel’s posture had gone rigid, his gaze fixed on the stone wall ahead but his jaw clenched tightly—one small betrayal of the tension coiled beneath his controlled exterior, a silence that screamed louder than any warning.

A flicker of motion stirred the corner of my vision—one of the king’s guards stepped forward, hand hovering over the hilt of his sword. Fear seized me in its cold grip, but before I could react, Prince Castiel moved.

A subtle half-step to the side, just enough to place himself slightly between me and the guard, a silent barrier between me and danger.

For a breath, our eyes almost met before he looked away, his impenetrable indifference returning before I could decipher anything beneath.

The memory of his sword raised against me in another life made this small shield even more difficult to comprehend, leaving me uncertain what to do with the contradiction.

The king’s gaze followed the movement. His smile thinned, sharp as a blade’s edge.

“I’m pleased to see the two of you growing.

..closer. Let’s hope that closeness doesn’t breed recklessness.

Never forget the real reason for this engagement…

and that I only keep what is essential for Thorndale’s posterity.

” He returned his attention fully to me.

“I only wish to ensure harmony in my court. You understand, don’t you, Princess? ”

I swallowed, feigning a composure I didn’t feel. “Perfectly, Your Majesty.”

He held my gaze for a heartbeat too long—as if waiting for me to crack beneath the pressure.

When I didn’t, he released me with a flick of his fingers, as though I wasn’t worth any further attention.

Without another word, he turned and strode from the room as deliberately as a blade being sheathed, his guards gliding after him like shadows drawn to blood.

Silence fell, heavy and consuming. I remained frozen, lungs aching from the breath I’d been too afraid to take. My fingers pressed to my chest, trying to still my racing heart and gather the scattered remains of my composure.

Prince Castiel remained behind, his body an unwavering shield between me and the danger.

Only when the echo of the king’s footsteps had faded did he finally stir.

Something flickered behind his gaze as he looked at me, just for a moment.

Regret? Warning? Whatever the emotion was, it passed too quickly to name.

He followed the king into the shadows beyond the throne room, leaving me alone with the ghost of his protection still lingering in the space between us like a question I didn’t know how to ask.