Page 42 of Revert (The Royal Chronicles #4)

Castiel’s voice dropped, bitter with remembered pain. “You don’t need to remind me, since you saw fit to do it in front of me.”

“Ah yes, that was a good time.” The king sounded sickeningly amused, as if speaking of a lively theatrical performance rather than the execution of his son’s fiancée.

“No real harm done, considering she’s alive and well now…

though I hoped it would break you, and for so long you pretended it did.

‘I loathe that woman with every fiber of my being. ’” He mocked the hurtful words I had overheard from Castiel days ago.

“Hatred indeed. You have an interesting way of expressing it.”

“I…don’t know what you mean.” But Castiel’s voice wavered, evidence of his unraveling composure.

The king gave a soft, undignified snort of disgust. “Still feigning ignorance, I see. I know about the kiss, Castiel. Did you truly think I wouldn’t find out?

That with all my eyes and ears, you could lie to me , the master of deception?

Ever since that girl stepped into court, she’s wrapped you around her finger…

and I refuse to stand for it any longer. ”

“She hasn’t,” Castiel insisted. “I’m loyal to this kingdom, this crown, our cause.” I heard his struggle to keep his tone low and even, a control undoubtedly not lost on the king.

“No matter how much you claim that in words, your actions repeatedly prove otherwise.” The king’s tone dropped, suddenly quiet and razor-sharp. “Then be honest. Do you love her?”

Castiel didn’t answer, but the silence spoke for him. I felt the weight of it in every beat of that unanswered question…as did the king.

“Wise of you not to speak,” he murmured. “You know how I despise that pathetic emotion that results in nothing but weakness. But you forget you cannot hide the truth, not when the emotion in your eyes betrays you.”

Still, Castiel said nothing, but the absence of denial was enough. Even through the shadows and my growing dread, something fragile and fierce bloomed inside me.

He loved me —not as a ploy or a performance, but in the tender emotions that had filled the kiss we’d shared and the memories I had once forgotten.

“Please,” Castiel said, his voice breaking on the word. “Don’t kill her again. I’ll do anything.”

The king exhaled a long, disappointed breath. “Except for what you already promised. How fickle your word is. You gave me your will, but your heart? That still wanders. You claim loyalty, but your affection for her makes you just as dangerous.”

Castiel didn’t reply, but one wasn’t necessary, for the king wasn’t finished.

The king’s voice sharpened. “She is a spy. A threat—as you are fully aware. And yet in my mercy, I allowed her to live because of her potential to be an asset, if she were molded to serve us. But even the most prized piece becomes a liability when it starts to influence the wrong king.“

His voice sharpened, curling with disgust.

“Your obsession with her sickens me. You’ve let your devotion cloud your vision, obscuring your purpose and duty. You think I don’t see it? You put on a convincing performance, I give you that. Yet even when you kept your distance, your longing for her bleeds through.”

The silence that followed was damning. I clenched my jaw, trying to still my tremors, impossible when I knew with dreaded certainty that the king would not allow this to continue—not the love, not the rebellion…

and not me. Castiel seemed to sense it too—I could feel his despair, filling every rapid beat of both of our frantic heartbeats.

“Please…have mercy upon her,” Castiel finally pleaded, his pretense of cool control vanished.

The king’s voice dropped, a whisper of velvet and venom.

“You don’t give me commands. Let me remind you, my son, that normally traitors are not allowed to live, and yet you mock my generous mercy.

People—including your precious queen—are merely tools, kept only as long as they remain useful to secure the future of Thorndale.

I will not have sentiment unravel what I’ve built. ”

“If you truly wished her gone, you wouldn’t have allowed her to return.

” Castiel said, his voice low but steady once more.

“You kept her here because she’s useful to your vision of the future, making her not merely a disposable tool, but a valuable asset, one who is intelligent and strategic.

Thorndale needs every advantage. I won’t discard someone essential just to satisfy your need for control. ”

His voice dropped, firm as iron.

“You don’t fear her because she’s disloyal—you can’t stand the thought of anything in this kingdom being loved for its own sake. She was never a threat to you—only to what you can’t control.”

The words struck like a bell of defiance—treasonous, clear.

The king was silent a tense, breathless moment before his laugh came again, but this time there was no amusement in it, only steel.

“Ah, so it is attachment, which is much worse than rebellion. How deeply you’ve strayed.

” His boots moved closer, each step a deliberate echo against the stone.

“Such a shame. You were always my sharpest piece. My fiercest shadow. And now you’ve dulled yourself on a girl’s tears. ”

“I only act in our kingdom’s best interests,” Castiel said, voice strained but steady.

“You confuse their need with your own foolish whims.” The king sounded almost musing.

“She’s cleverer than I gave her credit for.

Even if you’re attached to her, do you think she could ever care for a man whose hands are stained with the blood of dozens?

She’s manipulating your affections to gain control over the power that has made our kingdom what it is.

” He sighed, sounding weary. “How many times now have we been forced to turn back the clock because of her interference? I have lost count. Things would be far simpler if you were betrothed to a stupid woman. Her potential is the only reason she still draws breath, but even that has limits.”

My mind reeled. Turn back the clock? He spoke not just of the timeline I’d died in…but others. Multiple. My head spun. I didn’t remember any others. And yet…there were those strange memories, the ones that didn’t belong to any life I knew yet had been haunting me like ghosts just beyond the veil.

“In the end, you too remember how much we need her,” Castiel said.

“Perhaps,” the king allowed after a beat of silence.

“But I also remember the cost, and it’s growing higher than I care to pay.

” A pause, then a sigh laced with contempt.

“You do realize how weary I’ve grown of this little game?

You’re fortunate her survival isn’t solely because of you—else I’d have ended her permanently by now. ”

A sharp sound followed—steel unsheathing. I tensed, biting my lip hard enough to draw blood. Every muscle taut, I shifted just enough, straining to see through the narrow slit at the edge of the tapestry concealing my hiding place.

“However…” The king’s tone shifted again—colder now, calculated.

“I am a man of my word. You pleaded for her life when I struck her down after sensing your dangerous devotion to her. Claimed she would make you a better king, that if she lived you would give me your will in return. A bold promise from an heir I had shaped to serve me.”

My breath hitched.

“Because of your oath—and the nuisance her death would have caused with her kingdom—I spared her. I had no intention of being troubled with war or consequence at the time. Besides, I knew that if I had made the wrong choice, I could always undo it. After all, we have infinite time, do we not? But now?” His voice turned lethal.

“Now I see how thoroughly I’ve wasted it. ”

Castiel’s voice broke through the silence, ragged with desperation. “Please, don’t revert time again, not for this.”

The king arched a brow. “Is that why you think I’ve summoned you here?” He gave a long, theatrical sigh, pacing slowly before the pedestal as if lecturing a tiresome pupil.

“The people are so terribly particular. Always squawking about liberty, justice, free will—as if they know what’s best. They don’t. Resistance festers in their hearts like mold. No matter how clean we make the slate, they find a way to ruin it again.”

He touched the edge of the hourglass, and its suspended sands shimmered with a dull pulse.

“How many times have we had to redo everything? How many revolts crushed, how many traitors dealt with, only to find new ones rising in their place? Best to act now—go back far enough to catch the roots before they have a chance to sprout into something deadly. Identify the key players. Eliminate them early. Before they even have the chance to speak treason.” He smiled thinly.

“A few public executions. A scroll of fabricated charges. Plant a dagger or two. They’ll fall like dominos… just as they always have.”

My blood ran cold. So this was the cause of the whispered rumors—of people who had vanished in the night, accused of crimes no one could prove, convicted not for what they’d done but what they might one day do.

Each had been executed for crimes that had taken place in another timeline, a way for the king to use infinite redos in order to exert his perfect yet devastating control.

Just like I almost had with Castiel.

The king turned, robes whispering over stone.

“You will see to it. Prove your loyalty. Spill the blood of those who stand in our way, and I will grant her one final reprieve. One last chance to exist. Perhaps, once you’ve carried out your orders, the weight of their lives will harden your heart—temper it against this foolish attachment.

” He stepped closer. “But hear me, Castiel. If I even suspect hesitation—I will erase her as if she never breathed. Do not defy me again.”

A breathless moment passed before Castiel bowed his head. “It will be done, Your Majesty. I’ll…take care of them all.”

The anguish in his voice wrenched my heart. I pressed a fist to my chest, blinking back the tears that blurred my vision. I ached to go to him, to hold him, to whisper that he wasn’t alone in his suffering. But I didn’t dare move.

“Excellent,” the king purred, rubbing his hands together in a villainous mimic of glee. “Then let us proceed.”

I dared to shift the tapestry just a sliver to better peer through the crack. The king stood before the pedestal bearing the hourglass, holding up the same sigil Castiel had used to open the door. Magic bloomed from his palms—crimson, gold, and shadow—writhing like smoke made of memory.

The hourglass responded instantly. Its suspended sands began to glow brighter, pulling into a spiraling storm that churned within the glass. I stared in confusion, wondering how the king planned to use the artifact of healing. Was he suffering from a mysterious, hidden illness?

He began to chant, words in a tongue older than the kingdom itself. The runes carved into the walls flared to life, spinning and shifting, creating new constellations in the stone. Time itself groaned beneath the magic’s weight, like a great beast being roused from slumber.

The light grew blinding. My ears rang. The ground shuddered beneath my knees. Then came the sensation…like the world around us was being unstitched—hours, minutes, seconds all unraveling.

As though I were a tapestry slowly coming undone, threads scattering across a sea of moments.

Past, present, and future collided in dizzying succession.

Faces I hadn’t met flickered through my mind.

Names I didn’t recognize curled on my tongue.

My own memories blurred—twisting, doubling back, branching into paths I couldn’t follow.

I clung to one image—Castiel’s face, the pain in his eyes, the quiet plea in his voice.

The world blurred. Sound vanished. Color inverted. My body felt both weightless and crushed…and once again, time reversed .