เข้าสู่ระบบRichard’s POV“If she goes to him,” I said, each word low and deliberate, “it will be because you pushed her there. Not because she chose him over me, but because she could breathe around him. Because he shielded her from the storms you created. Because he made her feel seen. Valued. Safe.”My throat tightened.“Things I should have done,” I whispered. “Things you made impossible. Things I let you destroy.”“You are hurting me,” she breathed, hand trembling near her throat like a wounded actress.“I don’t care.”And I meant it.For the first time in my life, I truly didn’t care.“I am ashamed,” I said softly, the confession scraping through my chest. “Ashamed to call you my mother. And do not ever speak Cassandra’s name again. Do not meddle in her life. Do not speak of her in court. Do not approach her. If you do… you will lose me forever.”Her breath hitched sharply, the sound slicing the air between us.But before she could speak, before she could twist herself into another performa
Richard’s POVThe moment Sandra’s words registered, that James was in the hospital, that he had aplastic anaemia, that he needed me, something inside me violently tore loose.I didn’t feel my feet move. I didn’t feel the air. I didn’t feel the ground beneath me.I only moved.People parted for me like a tide breaking around a single rock. I heard nothing, none of the murmurs erupting in the hallway, none of the reporters barking questions, not even my mother calling after me in that shrill, commanding tone she thought the world owed obedience to.Nothing reached me.I sprinted through the corridor, taking the stairs two, three at a time. Out of the courthouse. Into the blinding, merciless daylight.The driver had already been alerted somehow, perhaps through the palace network, perhaps from the chaos building behind me. The car screeched up to the front steps, and before the tyres fully stilled, my mother slipped in beside me, still adjusting her shawl, still trembling in that drama
Cassandra’s POVMy throat tightened. My vision pulsed at the edges. For a moment, just one devastating moment, I felt fourteen again. Standing in a political banquet hall filled with my father’s enemies. Every face turned toward me with contempt. Every voice whispering blame. Every accusation directed at my existence rather than my actions.But this time… I was not a girl.And I refused, absolutely refused, to fold.I lifted my chin, letting the weight of the cameras, the murmuring crowd, the sneering queen settle like dust around me.“You can spew whatever lies you like, Your Majesty,” I said, voice steady as carved stone, “but we both know the truth.”The courtyard stilled. Flashbulbs paused mid-burst. Even the guards stiffened.Ivanna froze mid-sob, hand still dramatically pressed to her chest.“You want to entertain the world?” I continued. “Fine. But let us not forget that you destroyed your son’s marriage long before anyone else came into the picture.”A crack split
Cassandra’s POVThe second I stepped out of the palace gates, urgency pushed me harder than fear ever could. The guards shouted after me, my name, my title, commands, but their voices were nothing more than distant echoes bouncing off stone. I did not look back. I couldn’t. There was no time to waste on rules meant to cage me.The driver must have sensed the danger radiating from me, because the moment I shouted for him to bring the car around, he reacted instantly. The vehicle rolled forward in a rush, the tyres barely meeting the gravel before he accelerated toward me.I yanked the door open and flung myself into the back seat. “Take me to the courthouse,” I said, breathless.“Yes, Your Highness.”He didn’t hesitate. The car lunged forward, swallowing the road in powerful strides. The city blurred past the windows, the wind howling against the frame as though urging us on. Good. Let it howl. Every second mattered. James’s life hung in the balance. A DNA test. An HLA match. A father
Cassandra’s POVI walked back to my room slowly, every step heavy, as though grief itself had wrapped chains around my ankles. The palace corridors felt longer than usual, darker somehow, the walls echoing with the residue of Rachel’s screams. Each footstep landed with a hollow thud, and my heart matched the rhythm, slow, anxious, waiting for news that refused to come.Inside my room, I sat on the edge of the bed and stared at the wall until the floral patterns in the wallpaper blurred into meaningless swirls. My hands rested limply in my lap. My mind felt suspended between dread and helplessness, both tightening around me like invisible cords.Time passed. Minutes. Hours. Enough for the sunlight to crawl across the floor, shifting from bright gold to a muted, fading amber. Enough for the weight in my chest to deepen until breathing required effort.Each second sharpened the fear inside me.A knock at my door jolted me upright, my pulse kicking painfully. For a moment I simply stare
Cassandra’s POVFor a heartbeat, I could only stare at Diana, hair dishevelled, cheeks flushed, chest heaving as though she’d sprinted across the palace grounds. Her panic rattled through the room like loose windows in a storm, vibrating through my nerves before I could fully process her words. Something was wrong, terribly wrong, and the fear in her eyes told me this wasn’t one of the palace’s usual inconveniences.I stepped toward her. “Diana, what emergency?”She swallowed hard, pressing a hand to her chest as though willing her heartbeat to slow. “Rachel. She’s in the great room, crying, wailing. She says her son is sick. Very sick. And she’s demanding that you come. Usually, the Queen Consort would handle such domestic matters but… Ivana isn’t home.”Of course. Of course the moment Ivana vanished, chaos would come knocking, screaming, tearing through the palace walls as if waiting for the slightest opportunity to spill out. The universe had a twisted sense of timing.I didn’t wa







