Chapter 51: Just a Man

Hecate POV

The breakfast table was a picture of warmth and ease.

Aileen chattered between bites of toast, telling her father about the birds she had seen outside her window that morning. Emrich listened with exaggerated seriousness, nodding along as if the migration patterns of sparrows were matters of grave importance.

Ysabella moved between the table and the kitchen, refilling cups and pressing more food onto plates, her smile soft and unguarded.

I sat beside Maddox, close enough that our knees brushed beneath the table. No one commented. No one even seemed to notice. Or perhaps they noticed and chose not to speak. Either way, the silence around us was comfortable, not tense.

"This is good," Maddox said, leaning back in his chair, a cup of coffee cradled in his hands. "Being here. With all of you."

Emrich raised an eyebrow. "Do not get used to it, my king. We cannot serve you breakfast every day."

"I am not talking about the food." Maddox's gaze swept across the table, lingering on Aileen, on Ysabella, on Emrich, and finally on me. "I am talking about this. The company. The feeling of being just a man, not a king. No crown. No throne. No weight."

Ysabella set down the pitcher of juice and took her seat beside Emrich. "You are always just a man, Maddox. You just forget sometimes."

He smiled at that, a genuine smile, the kind that softened the hard lines of his face. "Perhaps I do."

Aileen climbed onto her father's lap and demanded more jam for her bread. Emrich obliged, spreading it thickly while she supervised. The little girl caught me watching and grinned, showing the gap where her front tooth had fallen out.

"Healer, do you like jam?" she asked.

"I do," I said.

"I like jam too. Fenris likes jam."

"Fenris has excellent taste."

Aileen nodded solemnly and returned to her breakfast.

Maddox's hand found mine beneath the table. His fingers intertwined with mine, warm and steady. I did not pull away.

The morning stretched on, unhurried. Emrich told a story about his journey, about a bridge that had washed out and a river they had to cross in the dark. Ysabella laughed at his dramatics, and even Aileen gasped at the perilous parts, though she had heard the story twice already.

Then Emrich's tone shifted, becoming more practical.

"The spring festival is approaching," he said. "I will be busy over the next few days with preparations. The decorations, the guest lists, the security arrangements. It is the first large gathering since the king's curse began to stabilize. Everyone will be watching."

Ysabella's eyes lit up. "I love the spring festival. The flowers, the music, the dancing. And the mate bonds." She clasped her hands together. "I cannot wait to see which couples the Moon Goddess brings together this season. There is nothing more beautiful than watching two souls recognize each other for the first time."

I kept my face neutral, though her words stirred something in my chest.

Maddox looked at me then. A quick glance, hopeful and uncertain, as if he was silently asking the same question. Would the Goddess be kind? Would she bind him to the woman he wanted?

He did not know she already had.

Three years ago, in a dungeon beneath this very castle, the bond had snapped into place between us. It had never broken. It had only dimmed, waiting, patient, for us to find our way back.

I looked away first, reaching for my coffee cup.

"The festival," I said, keeping my voice light. "They are always the same. Crowds. Noise. People drinking too much wine and making promises they will not keep by morning."

Ysabella swatted my arm. "You are impossible. When did you become so cynical?"

"A while ago," I said, and the truth of it hung in the air for a moment before I covered it with a smile. "But do not let me spoil your excitement. I am sure the festival will be wonderful."

Aileen had abandoned her toast and was now trying to balance a spoon on her nose. Emrich pretended not to notice, though his eyes kept drifting to her, soft with love.

Maddox leaned closer to me, his shoulder pressing against mine.

"Do you believe in the mate bond?" he asked quietly, so only I could hear.

I turned to look at him. His golden eyes were searching, earnest.

"I believe the Goddess has a plan for everyone," I said carefully. "Whether we are wise enough to follow it is another matter."

He held my gaze for a long moment. His hand tightened on mine beneath the table.

"I hope her plan includes me," he said. "With someone who makes me feel like this."

My heart ached. I wanted to tell him the truth. I wanted to tear off the mask of Hecate and let Samantha stand before him, to say look, it is me, it has always been me.

But the time was not right. The secrets between us were too many, the wounds too fresh.

So I only smiled and squeezed his hand.

---

The morning ended too quickly.

Emrich had duties to attend to, and Ysabella needed to prepare for the day. Aileen was already yawning, her energy spent, and the maids arrived to take her to the nursery.

Maddox rose from the table and stretched, his shirt pulling across his shoulders. I watched him, memorizing the lines of him, the way the morning light caught the gold in his eyes.

At the door, he turned and pulled me into an embrace.

His arms wrapped around me, strong and warm, and he held me against his chest as if he did not want to let go. I buried my face in his neck, breathing him in. His scent surrounded me, dark pine and storm winds, and I felt the bond pulse between us, alive and insistent.

"I will miss you," he said against my hair. "Even if I see you before sunset, I will still miss you."

I laughed softly. "You are being dramatic."

"I am being honest." He pulled back just enough to look at my face. His thumb traced my cheekbone, featherlight. "There is something about you, Hecate. Something I cannot name. Something I cannot shake."

My throat tightened. "Perhaps you are not meant to shake it."

He tilted his head, considering. Then he smiled, slow and warm, and kissed my forehead.

"Until tonight," he said.

"Until tonight."

He left.

I stood in the doorway, watching him walk down the corridor, his boots echoing on the stone. He did not look back. But I felt him through the bond, a warmth that lingered even as he disappeared around the corner.

Ysabella appeared at my elbow, her expression knowing.

"You have it bad," she said.

I turned to look at her. "I do not know what you mean."

"You are falling for him again."

I opened my mouth to deny it. Closed it. There was no point in lying to her.

"I never stopped," I admitted quietly. "That is the problem."

Ysabella sighed and slipped her arm through mine. "Come. Let me walk you to your studio. You can tell me all about how you are not falling for him while I watch you not fall."

I laughed despite myself. "You are impossible."

"I learned from the best."

We walked together through the corridors, the morning light streaming through the tall windows. The castle was waking up around us, servants hurrying to their tasks, guards changing shifts. Life went on, ordinary and unremarkable.

And I let myself enjoy it. The warmth of Ysabella's arm in mine. The memory of Maddox's embrace. The simple pleasure of a morning spent among people who accepted me as I was, or at least as they thought I was.

I had reservations. Doubts. Fears. The secrets between Maddox and me were a chasm that would eventually need to be crossed. But for now, for this moment, I allowed myself to simply live.

No thinking. No planning. No worrying about what came next.

Just this. Just now. Just the quiet joy of being.