Rebecca's POV
“This… smells like a love potion!”
A gasp rippled through the crowd. People recoiled, pressing closer to glimpse the scandal.
Lady Kalali thrust a jeweled finger toward me, her voice slicing the silence.
“Her. Rebecca Rosewyn. Isabelle Rosewyn’s daughter—the Crown’s old potion maker. She runs her own shop now, doesn’t she? Of course she’d know how to brew something forbidden.”
Heat prickled under my skin. My entire body felt like it might collapse.
Gideon said nothing. He merely watched me, his glacial eyes narrowed, like he was deciding whether to crush me or protect me.
Maddie, breathless, elbowed her way through the crowd. “Hey! Leave her alone, Lady Kalali! It was just—”
Lady Kalali spun on her, lips curling. “Silence. You’re nothing but her accomplice!”
Maddie faltered under the weight of noble eyes, her voice dying. She tried again, softer. “She didn’t mean any harm. It’s just… Becca’s—”
Lady Kalali slapped the air dismissively. “Save your lies. The Queen must hear of this at once.”
Before I could blink, Lady Kalali grabbed my wrist in a clawlike grip and dragged me toward the dais.
Lady Kalali bent close to the Queen’s ear, whispering furiously. The Queen’s sharp eyes flicked past her to me—and went razor-sharp with fury.
A chill swept the room.
The Queen lifted her arms and called out in a voice that carried over the entire ballroom:
“My beloved guests, I must attend to a private matter of state. Please continue your revelry. Drink and dance in honor of our knights. I shall return shortly.”
She turned, robes swishing, and disappeared behind the velvet curtains at the rear of the dais.
Lady Kalali yanked me along. Maddie scrambled to follow, trembling. Gideon strode after us in silence, his boots echoing against the marble floor.
The moment the curtains fell closed behind us, royal guards sealed the entrance.
We were ushered into a private chamber—walls hung with banners, a long wooden table at the center. The Queen took the seat at its head, her presence crackling like a live wire.
Maddie tried to speak, but a guard blocked her with an armored arm.
“Quiet,” the Queen commanded. Her voice was soft—but deadly. She fixed her glare on me. “Rebecca Rosewyn. Daughter of Isabelle Rosewyn. I remember your mother well. She was a potion master who served the Crown.”
I swallowed hard. “Yes, Your Majesty.”
Lady Kalali slammed her palms on the table. “Your Majesty, this is treason! She brewed a love potion—and intended it for your own knight commander! The law is clear. Death for such witchcraft!”
My vision blurred. I tried to speak—but every time I opened my mouth, Lady Kalali cut me off.
“She must be executed!” Lady Kalali cried. “This is no petty crime. She was plotting to manipulate a royal knight!”
The Queen looked at me with ice in her stare. “Do you deny it?”
I opened my mouth again. “I—I didn’t mean—”
Lady Kalali screeched, “She admits it!”
My knees nearly buckled. I felt myself sinking into hopeless silence. It was useless. Every word I tried to say was torn apart before it could even leave my lips.
The Queen sighed. “Lady Kalali speaks the truth. The penalty for creating and administering a love potion is death. Especially when it targets one of my own knights.”
My mouth was dry as dust. I tried one last time. “Please, Your Majesty, I didn’t mean for—”
“Enough,” the Queen snapped. She turned to Gideon. “Commander Malik. You drank the potion. Are you… under its effects?”
Gideon finally stepped forward, calm as ever. His voice was low, but carried through the chamber like thunder. “No, Your Majesty. I am not affected. It seems the potion was either too weak… or poorly brewed. Perhaps Miss Rosewyn’s skills do not match those of her mother.”
Lady Kalali practically hissed. “So what? She meant to enchant you—she should hang for it!”
But Gideon continued, undeterred. “If I may, Your Majesty… I propose a solution.”
Everyone fell silent. Even Lady Kalali froze, her mouth half-open.
Gideon’s jaw tensed. “Rather than executing her, Rebecca Rosewyn… I will marry her.”
My ears roared. The room tilted. I blinked rapidly, convinced I must have misheard him.
Lady Kalali shrieked, “What?!”
Even the Queen seemed momentarily stunned. “Explain yourself, Commander.”
Gideon spoke with measured calm. “Executing her will cause scandal. The people will talk of corruption in the palace and secrets hidden behind executions. But if I marry her, we can frame this as a long-awaited union—an engagement kept secret until my return from border. The people will rejoice rather than question us. And there will be no reason to investigate further.”
The Queen studied him, brows drawn tight.
Lady Kalali let out a strangled cry. “This is absurd! How can you choose her—a lowly potion maker in a dusty shop—over me? I have waited years for you, Commander!”
Gideon barely spared her a glance. “My decision is final.”
Lady Kalali’s face twisted with rage. “How dare you throw me aside for this… this nothing girl!”
But the Queen leaned back slowly in her chair. “A political marriage would indeed keep the matter quiet.” She considered me, eyes sharp as knives. “So be it. The marriage shall take place in two weeks. We will announce your engagement as a joyful union long desired. The kingdom will believe it was planned all along.”
Lady Kalali reeled back like she’d been slapped. “No! Your Majesty, you can’t—”
The Queen raised a single finger. “Enough, Lady Kalali.” She stood. “Prepare yourselves. The announcement will be made before the people tonight.” She swept from the chamber, silk hissing against the floor.
Gideon didn’t move at first. He stood rooted, like stone.
Then, without a word, he turned and followed her. His jaw was tight, his back stiff—like every step away from me cost him something.
He didn’t look back.
Not even once.
I stood there, frozen, my pulse pounding in my ears.
Lady Kalali’s laugh slithered through the silence, low and sharp. “Well,” She said, circling me like a vulture, “you must be proud of yourself, little shop rat. One love potion and you’ve snared the most powerful man in the kingdom. Truly, your mother would be ashamed.”
“Leave her alone!" Maddie snapped. She stepped in front of me again, trembling with rage.
Lady Kalali sneered. “Oh, look — the pet mouse squeaks. Is that loyalty or stupidity, I wonder?”
Maddie’s hands curled into fists. “At least I don’t claw at men who’ve already made their choice.”
Lady Kalali’s expression twisted. “He didn’t choose her. He sacrificed himself. Can’t you see it? This marriage is pity. It’s damage control. No one with real power would ever want a girl who plays with kitchen herbs and illegal spells.”
The words hit like stones. I tried not to flinch.
Maddie’s voice cracked. “You don’t know anything about her.”
Lady Kalali leaned in, eyes glittering. “I know she’s nothing but her mother’s faded shadow. And now she’ll spend the rest of her life locked in a palace she doesn’t belong in, married to a man who looks at her like a risk, not a wife.”
That landed. Hard.
Because deep down… a part of me wondered if it was true.
But Maddie stepped closer, her voice barely above a whisper. “Say whatever you want. You lost. And that’s what really burns, isn’t it?”
Lady Kalali’s smile sharpened. “Oh, darling.” She stepped back, smoothing her gown. “This isn’t over. Not even close. You think palace nobles will welcome a potion-making nobody as their Commander’s bride? There are games you haven’t even begun to understand.”
She turned to me, her voice like poisoned silk. “You’ll choke on every flower in your wedding bouquet.”
Then she swept from the chamber with a flourish of violet silk, the guards parting to let her pass.
Silence fell.
Maddie slumped beside me, breathing hard. “Gods,” She whispered. “She’s a demon.”
I didn’t answer. I couldn’t.
Everything felt far away. Unbelievable.
“I’m sorry, Becca,” Maddie said, softer now, her voice tight with guilt. “This wasn’t how it was supposed to go.”
I shook my head numbly. “It’s not your fault.”
“It is,” Maddie said, fiercely. “I pushed you. And now—now you’re going to be trapped with him.”
My breath caught.
Trapped.
The guards moved like shadows, silent and firm. One of them stepped toward Maddie. “By order of the Queen,” He said, “you are to be escorted from the palace grounds immediately. You are not to return unless summoned.”
Maddie flinched. “But she’s—”
“I’ll be fine,” I said, voice barely a whisper.
Maddie turned to me, eyes wide and wet, lip trembling like she might protest anyway.
“I mean it,” I said. “It’s better if you go before they drag you.”
Maddie threw her arms around me. Her voice was muffled against my shoulder. “I’ll find a way to fix this, Becca. Somehow. Just hold on, okay?”
I nodded, even though I didn’t believe it. Her warmth was the last real thing I felt before the guard peeled her away.
Silence returned. Cold and suffocating.
I stepped back into the ballroom, heart thudding like a war drum. The music had resumed, nobles laughing like nothing had happened—as if the world hadn’t just shifted beneath my feet.
And there she was. The Queen stood tall and terrible at the edge of the dais, crimson robes glowing in the light, a goblet raised high.
The guards didn’t let me hesitate. I was escorted forward, toward the dais, where I was meant to stand beside—
A hand reached out. Caught mine.
Gideon.
His grip was steady. Warm. Infuriatingly warm.
I looked up at him, startled. He didn’t glance at me, didn’t smile or frown. He just held my hand like it was a formality.
Like he didn’t know it had just become the most confusing moment of my life.
Then the Queen's voice soared above the murmurs of the crowd. “Noble guests,” She declared, her tone honeyed but cold beneath it, “tonight we celebrate more than a victory. We rejoice in love long hidden and at last revealed.”
A murmur rippled through the crowd.
“The Knight Commander of the Crown, Gideon Malik,” the Queen said, “has returned from the border victorious. And with him… a long-awaited secret.”
She gestured toward us.
“Tonight, I am honored to announce the betrothal of Commander Malik to Rebecca Rosewyn, daughter of Isabelle Rosewyn. Their union, forged in devotion and years of silence, shall bring strength and unity to the realm.”
A wave of applause rose—hesitant, confused, some forced. But I didn’t hear any of it.
Because someone had just walked through the ballroom doors.
Rhys.
He stood frozen mid-step on the marble floor, like the air had turned to glass around him. His gaze found mine through the crush of silk and whispers—shocked. Then unreadable. Then something deeper… a flicker of pain, gone before I could name it.
He didn’t say a word. Just turned. Shoulders drawn tight, head high. And walked away like the sight of me burned.
I felt something split in my chest.
I didn’t even realize I was shaking until Gideon tightened his grip. Just a little. Just enough to steady me.
The Queen lifted her goblet again, and the crowd resumed their polite clapping, none the wiser to the mess unraveling beneath their feet.
Then it was over. The Queen stepped down from the dais with a rustle of silk and a smirk like she’d won.
“Commander,” the Queen said smoothly, “Since you're so eager to protect her... then protect her well. She’ll be moved into your quarters. As of this moment, she answers to you.”
I couldn’t breathe. His quarters?
Gideon bowed his head. “As you command.”
Then without waiting for permission, he led me away, our hands still joined.
And still—his was warm.
Even if the rest of him was ice.
Chapter Two: Where “oops” becomes “royal wedding.”
Gideon’s POV — Ten Years Ago The halls still smelled of steel and wax polish. Too clean. Too polished. Too foreign. My father had been buried a fortnight ago, and still I walked as though his shadow were at my back, as though his voice were waiting around the next corner to cut me down. But there was only silence. I was seventeen, armored but unsteady. A knight, they called me now. The blade on my hip was too large, too heavy, yet I carried it as though it could disguise the hollow in me. My father had wanted this, had carved me into this shape, and then left me to bear it alone. And that was when I saw her. A woman striding through the palace corridors like she belonged there, though she wore no crown. Her hair bound tight, her robes dusted with ash and herbs, her hands ink-stained. Isabelle Rosewyn. Mistress Rosewyn, they called her—the potion master who even the Queen begrudged needing. She carried the air of someone who bent the world to her pace, not the other way around.
Rebecca's POV The music swelled, strings sharp against the pounding in my chest. His words still hung between us, unanswered, like a thorn lodged in my throat. Then, as if the world had chosen to save me, the song ended. The final notes stretched thin before fading into the heavy air like smoke. Applause rose. Courtiers drifted forward, eager to offer their congratulations to the Commander. Their eyes skimmed over me, detached, before settling where they truly wanted to look—on him. My pulse raced. I couldn’t—wouldn’t—be part of their show. I let my hand slip from his, stepping back, every muscle taut, every step careful and deliberate. Gideon didn’t reach for me. He couldn’t—not with the courtiers crowding in, their praises and smiles pulling at him from every side. Still, I felt it—the sharp heat of his stare, as if he were fighting the urge to break free and come after me. And Saints help me, a part of me almost wished he would. I edged toward the shadowed periphery of the ha
Rebecca's POV I finally stood before him, heart hammering in a rhythm I couldn’t control. Gideon stood perfectly still, as he always did, the Knight Commander in full regalia. The armor gleamed faintly under the hall’s light, silver against black, but it did nothing to soften the sharp line of his jaw, the rigid set of his shoulders. To anyone else, he looked untouchable. To me… he looked like the man who had just shattered my world. I couldn’t breathe when I thought of it. Couldn’t look at him without seeing the flames. And yet—gods help me—I still loved him. That was the cruelest part of it all. I kept my eyes low, not daring to meet his. If I looked too long, I would see everything I didn’t want to see. But I could feel him. I could feel the way his eyes lingered, sharp and searching, as if he knew something I couldn’t say. When I lifted my gaze at last, it wasn’t to him—it was to her. The Queen. The woman who had ordered it all. She sat watching, her smile sharp and patie
Rebecca’s POV Morning came too quickly. It always does on the days you wish you had just a little more time to prepare yourself. I woke to Maddie’s hand shaking my shoulder and her face hovering over me like a very excited crow. “Up, Becca. It’s time. You’re getting married today!” The words sent my stomach into a spiral. I wanted to groan and bury myself back under the blankets, but Maddie had backup—two palace attendants who descended like a storm. One tugged me upright while the other laid out shimmering fabrics that caught the light like frost. Combs, ribbons, powders, and pins appeared in quick succession, their hands moving so fast I barely had time to breathe, much less panic properly. “You’re beautiful,” Maddie said finally, clasping her hands dramatically when the last pin slid into my hair. “I look like a dressed-up mannequin,” I muttered, tugging at the sleeves. “You look like a bride,” Maddie corrected, beaming. “Which is better.” The attendants swept out in a rus
Rebecca's POV Days slipped by almost unnoticed, carried on the rhythm of clashing swords, marching drills, and Gideon’s ever-watchful presence. The border remained tense but quiet, the threat of war hanging like a dark cloud just beyond the horizon. The Queen, distracted by reports and strategies, left us to our routines, though her scrutiny never fully vanished. Training became both my refuge and my torment. Each day, Gideon pushed me harder than I thought I could endure, alternating between that cold, inflexible commander and the man who lingered just long enough in my presence to make my chest ache. Some mornings, Gideon barely spoke a word, issuing commands in clipped tones, eyes sharp and unrelenting. Other times, he would lean just close enough to adjust my stance, his hand brushing mine, his voice low and private: reminders, small and careful, that in the chaos of the palace and the drills, he was still here. Still mine. And all the while, my heart raced with the memory of
Rebecca’s POV By the time Gideon finally let me catch my breath, my arms were trembling too much to lift the practice sword again. The guards had long since melted back into their posts, leaving us alone in the yard, though I could still feel their eyes on us from the walls. Gideon didn’t seem to notice—or maybe he just didn’t care. “You lasted longer than most recruits your first day,” Gideon said, his tone softer than the words themselves. “High praise, Commander.” I flopped down onto the bench along the wall, fanning myself with my hands. “Do you tell all your recruits that, or just the ones you drag out of their beds after three hours of sleep?” Gideon quirked a brow, the faintest glimmer of humor brushing across his face. “You think I drag anyone.” “I know you do,” I countered, grinning through the ache in my muscles. “Seems like your favorite morning ritual—terrifying the new recruits before breakfast.” “Only when necessary.” Gideon leaned against the wall, arms folded, th