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129. CAELAN
Huling Na-update:
2025-07-19 12:42:15The King had returned just before nightfall—cloaked in the scent of blood, ash, and victory he wore like a twisted crown. His boots were still caked with mud from the southern ridge, the battlefields where men died so he could claim his throne. He moved through the castle halls like a force of nature, relentless and unforgiving. His presence swallowed the light and hope from the corridors.
He didn’t glance at me when he passed. Not a nod. Not a word. Not even a flicker of recognition. This was expected. I was but a soldier, a guard tasked to watch and listen. Not interfere.
But what came next was not expected.
I took my post outside the Queen’s chamber as the lamps in the corridor flickered to life, the warm flames throwing long shadows on the cold stone walls. The castle was thick with unease&mdas
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His Rejected Mate 132. CAELAN
The next morning came slow, dragging the gray sun behind it like a burden too heavy to rise. The palace halls were still quiet — that eerie kind of silence that settled only after long nights of pain. But for the first time in what felt like eternity, I woke up with something more than dread clinging to my chest.Hope. Fragile, stupid, but real.I reported early to my post, before the guards changed shift. My feet carried me faster than usual through the south wing, past the arching stained-glass windows, until I reached her chamber door. My usual position. My cursed privilege.The fruit bowl I’d left yesterday — just a quiet offering — was gone. In its place sat an empty tray, polished and clean, with nothing but a folded cloth laid gently over it.It wasn
His Rejected Mate 131. CAELAN
The garden had always been a place of silence, but tonight it felt sacred.The sun had dipped below the palace spires, casting the hedges and creeping ivy in long, slanted shadows. A soft breeze whispered through the leaves, stirring the scent of rain-soaked earth and fading jasmine. It was quiet — not the empty kind of quiet that gnawed at the bones, but something gentler. Waiting. Breathing.And there she was.She sat beneath the same ancient oak as before, back straight, hands resting loosely in her lap. She wore a pale green gown that blended almost seamlessly with the grass around her. For a moment, she looked like she belonged to the earth itself — carved from sorrow, but rooted deep in resilience.I hesitated a few feet away, clearing my throat softly
His Rejected Mate 130. CAELAN
A week had passed, but there was no sign of her.All I knew was that she was inside. Alone. Miserable.For eight long days and nights, I had stood my post outside her chamber, steadfast and silent, watching over a ghost more than a Queen. No one came in or went out. No footsteps disturbed the cold corridors but mine. The palace felt emptier than ever, as if the very walls were holding their breath in mourning.Every shift, I waited patiently, hoping for the smallest glimpse of her — a shadow passing by, the faintest sound of her voice, a sign that she was still fighting against the darkness that threatened to consume her. But there was nothing. It was as if she had simply faded away from the world.The silence was suffocating.
His Rejected Mate 129. CAELAN
The King had returned just before nightfall—cloaked in the scent of blood, ash, and victory he wore like a twisted crown. His boots were still caked with mud from the southern ridge, the battlefields where men died so he could claim his throne. He moved through the castle halls like a force of nature, relentless and unforgiving. His presence swallowed the light and hope from the corridors.He didn’t glance at me when he passed. Not a nod. Not a word. Not even a flicker of recognition. This was expected. I was but a soldier, a guard tasked to watch and listen. Not interfere.But what came next was not expected.I took my post outside the Queen’s chamber as the lamps in the corridor flickered to life, the warm flames throwing long shadows on the cold stone walls. The castle was thick with unease&mdas
His Rejected Mate 128. CAELAN
It wasn’t until she shifted slightly — just an inch, enough to step away from the hearth — that I saw it.Blood.A small, dark stain blooming near the hem of her pale robe. Crimson against ivory silk, nearly missed by anyone who didn’t know where to look.But I had been watching her too long. I noticed everything now.My eyes dropped instantly. The faintest trail traced down from beneath her gown to her bare foot, curling along her heel, thin as a whisper. Fresh.“Your Majesty,” I said, trying to keep my voice even. “You’re bleeding.”She froze.Her posture stiffened as if I had yan
His Rejected Mate 127. CAELAN
The knock came just after dawn — sharp, impatient, and too early for anything good.I straightened from where I had been leaning against the cold stone wall, my muscles stiff from standing through the night. My shift hadn’t yet ended, but I hadn’t dared leave my post — not since the last time the Queen collapsed alone inside this very room. That image still clung to the back of my eyes: her crumpled body on marble, her nightdress soaked in blood, whispering apologies to gods who never answered.Elias came rushing down the corridor, face pale, hair sticking to his forehead with sweat. He clutched a tightly sealed scroll in one trembling hand.“It’s from the southern battalion,” he whispered when he reached me, barely catching his breath. “Marked for the Queen. But I… I was told His Majesty’s already inside.”
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