chapter 5 - The Mysterious Woman

Damon’s POV

The convoy came to a halt outside the gates of Averelle Palace.

Having visited countless castles across three kingdoms, there was something distinctly unsettling about this place. Perhaps it was the fact that I wasn’t arriving as a wanderer or a prince on a diplomatic appointment.

This time, I was stepping into a trap.

The engagement.

The weight of expectations.

The unspoken promise that I hadn’t actually made but somehow felt compelled to uphold.

I emerged from the car, adjusting the cuffs of my formal black suit. The royal emblem of Velmere glinted on my left sleeve, a silver crescent intersected by a dark blade.

Guards stood at attention along the staircase.

The atmosphere was thick with the taste of iron and ancient stone.

Chilly.

Uninviting.

Fitting.

Averelle had always been a realm defined by sharp edges and sharper words.

An official from the palace approached and bowed respectfully. “Your Highness, welcome to Averelle. Queen Celene is expecting you in the grand hall.”

“Good,” I replied, my tone curt.

I was skilled at being curt.

Skilled at being distant.

Skilled at presenting myself as if I were chiseled from stone.

What I wasn’t skilled at…

What I had no experience with…

Was letting go of her.

The woman from the night ago.

The one who vanished before dawn.

The one who left behind a trace of whiskey on my skin and a gold earring in my hand.

The one who kissed as if she were drowning, holding on to me as if she were fighting for breath one last time.

“No names,” she had said.

“Just tonight.

No strings attached.”

Yet I had woken up with her bracelet clutched tightly in my fist, and the weight of consequences etched into my heart.

“Your Highness?” the official prompted, breaking into my thoughts.

I forced my face back to a neutral expression and followed him through the towering doors.

Inside, the palace felt like an icy cathedral, every surface immaculate, every detail polished to perfection. Yet the air was thick, almost stifling, as if emotions had recently spilled over here. Someone's life had shifted dramatically, and I couldn’t understand why that sensation affected me.

But the pressure still bore down on my chest.

We entered a more intimate reception hall, populated with a few advisors and diplomats. Queen Celene was not present, and that was a relief.

I needed a moment to collect myself.

As I filled a glass with water from a nearby table, my guard, Kade, leaned closer.

“Still thinking about her?” he asked softly.

I didn’t meet his gaze. “No.”

“Lying,” he asserted.

I kept silent.

His voice dropped further. “The club manager said he checked the security footage. She left on her own at 3:12 a.m. No name given, no tab, nothing to trace.”

Just like her.

She had slipped away like a shadow.

“She didn’t want to be found,” Rowan added.

“It’s irrelevant,” I stated coolly. “We agreed on just one night.”

“And yet, here you are, carrying her bracelet in your pocket.”

My jaw clenched.

Slowly.

With effort.

I reached into my jacket, feeling the warm, small metal between my fingers.

I realized I had been gripping it unconsciously all day.

Clearing my throat, I asked, “Did the manager mention anything else?”

Kade paused. “Uh, he mentioned she appeared to be crying before she came in.”

My heart tightened at that.

Crying?

Why?

I had sensed something fractured within her, not vulnerability, but a quivering, a fresh wound.

Something that felt all too familiar.

I exhaled slowly. “Thanks. That will be all.”

Kade nodded and stepped back.

I turned my attention to the tall window overlooking the courtyard.

The sky was deepening into a dark blue.

Carriages were arriving.

Servants bustled about.

Guards kept watch.

And then....

There she was.

A woman crossing the courtyard.

With dark hair, a slender figure, and hurried steps, she moved as if trying to escape her own thoughts.

As if desperate to ignore her own feelings.

My body reacted involuntarily.

The cup in my hand froze.

My breath caught in my chest.

It wasn’t her.

It couldn’t be her.

The universe wasn’t that cruel.

She glanced away just before I could see her face clearly.

A servant rushed to her side, bowing deeply.

A princess then.

Someone significant.

Someone tied to this world of crowns and rulers.

My World

Not the woman in black, with whiskey on her breath and a rebellious spark in her voice.

Not the woman who kissed me as if she had nothing left to lose.

But for a fleeting moment.....

For a heart-wrenchingly reckless moment....

I held onto hope.

A door creaked open behind me.

Before I even turned, my back straightened.

Celene stepped into the room, poised and elegant in a silver gown that shimmered in the torchlight like finely polished steel. She was undeniably beautiful, undoubtedly regal. But there was nothing soft, nothing warm, nothing alive about her, unlike the stranger who had captivated me earlier.

Celene offered a subtle nod. “Prince Damon.”

“Princess Celene.”

Our gazes locked in a display of pure formality.

A cool acknowledgment.

A calculated exchange of intentions.

Two future rulers meeting as if signing a treaty.

“Thank you for arriving ahead of schedule,” she said. “It gives us more time to go over our expectations.”

Of course it did.

I nodded. “We should talk in private.”

“Agreed.”

She motioned to a smaller room. As we walked, her tone quieted.

“Averelle is in transition. My brother’s abdication has left many anxious. The engagement announcement must be perfect.”

I didn’t reply immediately.

My thoughts lingered by the window, still caught up in the image of the girl with dark hair racing across the courtyard, as if fleeing her own thoughts.

Celene interpreted my silence as contemplation.

“Damon,” she said, halting in the hallway. “Is something wrong?”

I met her gaze.

The woman I was meant to marry.

The princess who fit every expectation like a glove.

“No,” I said softly. “Nothing’s wrong.”

But everything was wrong.

We entered the cozy sitting room, and two guards closed the doors behind us.

Celene intertwined her fingers delicately. “We have a lot to cover, political alliances, ceremonial duties, statements for the press, our first public appearance together…”

I listened, nodded, and answered when it was necessary.

But my mind wandered.

To the earring I kept in my pocket.

To the stranger who had slipped away before dawn.

To the flash of dark hair in the courtyard.

Celene soon picked up on my distraction. “You seem… distant.”

“I’m just tired,” I replied.

She scrutinized me. “You don’t want to be here, do you?”

The truth danced on my lips for a moment.

But I swallowed it down.

“I’m here to fulfill my duty.”

“Then let’s do it well.”

Her impeccable posture, her flawless voice.

A woman crafted for royalty.

The stark contrast to the whirlwind who had drunkenly fallen into my arms.

Celene continued detailing the political necessities, ceremonial traditions, and the timeline for the engagement announcement.

I attempted to keep up.

Yet something kept drawing my mind elsewhere…

That shadow in the courtyard.

That familiar outline.

That hope I didn’t dare to entertain.

When our meeting concluded, Celene smiled politely. “We’ll dine shortly. Until then, rest. You seem… preoccupied.”

I inclined my head slightly. “Thank you.”

I stepped into the corridor, but instead of heading to my assigned room…

…I meandered.

Down the hall.

Toward the courtyard windows.

Pulled by something I couldn’t quite name.

Perhaps I was mistaken.

Perhaps the woman I saw wasn’t her.

Perhaps I was chasing a mirage.

The corridors buzzed with the sound of hurried footsteps.

Staff hurried past, laden with coronation gowns, trays of gold-dipped silverware, and papers that needed signatures.

I paused near a balcony, listening.

Waiting.

Hoping...

And hating myself for it.

Then....

A soft voice.

A laugh, both short and bitter. Real.

A woman strolled into view below.

Dark hair.

No makeup.

Simple clothing.

An aura of frustration and weariness enveloped her like a cloud.

She glanced up for an instant.

Our eyes didn’t connect.

She didn’t see me.

But I saw her.

My heart stopped.

The cold railing pressed against my palms.

It was her.

No....

It had to be her.

The way she moved.

The tension in her shoulders.

The inner fire hidden beneath her fatigue.

The woman who had barged into my life unannounced…

…and slipped away without a word.

The woman I had tried to forget.

The one I had searched for.

The one I wouldn’t let myself need.

There she was, here,In Avarelle, a princess

A Royal

A lie,A truth,a problem,a possibility

The breath left my chest slowly, painfully

"Found you," I whispered

Not loud

Not triumphant

Just inevitable