Chapter III : Ashes and Confessions

Rebecca’s POV

I was dragged into the Queen’s private court chamber, the marble floor cold against my knees as the guards forced me to kneel. 

Queen Omara stared down at me from her throne, diamonds glittering at her throat, her face carved from ice. Gideon stood at her right, arms folded, silent and unreadable. 

Lady Kalali swept forward, skirts rustling like silk blades. “Your Majesty, this woman attempted to bewitch Commander Malik with a love potion. She must be executed for treason!” 

Queen Omara lifted one elegant brow. “Rebecca Rosewyn. Speak," 

My breath came in ragged gasps. Panic clawed at my chest, squeezing my ribs tight. 

“Your Majesty, please, it was an accident—I swear, I never meant harm—” 

Lady Kalali let out a sharp laugh. “Lies! You brewed a weapon to ensnare royal knights. To control the palace. Just like your mother tried to control the Crown with her spells!”

Queen Omara’s eyes narrowed, cold and cutting. “Why bring a potion to a royal banquet?” 

My mouth opened—and no words came. The truth felt like a knife in my throat. 

Lady Kalali sneered, voice rising. “Because she’s her mother’s spawn—a witch’s spawn. It’s in her blood to twist men’s hearts and threaten the throne!”

Gideon’s head snapped toward her. 

“Enough," 

Lady Kalali blinked, startled. 

“Commander—” 

Gideon stepped forward, his voice low and dangerous.

“This woman is not a traitor. She is a potion maker. And the potion does not create love—it merely exposes it," 

Queen Omara tilted her head, studying him as though weighing a sword. “Why defend her, Commander?” 

Gideon’s jaw flexed. For a heartbeat, something raw flickered in his eyes—something almost vulnerable—before his voice turned to cold steel. 

“Because I wish to marry her, Your Majesty. Let me take responsibility for her actions," 

Gasps rippled through the chamber. 

Silence hung thick as marble dust. 

Lady Kalali staggered back, white as her pearls. “You can’t!” 

Gideon ignored her, his eyes locked on the Queen. “Marry me to Rebecca Rosewyn. That will settle this matter. I’ll take responsibility for her actions. And the Crown loses nothing," 

Lady Kalali choked on a furious sob. “Your Majesty, he can’t—” 

But Queen Omara raised a hand, silencing the room. She studied me for a long, glacial moment. Then her lips curved into a small, dangerous smile. “Very well. It is decided. In two weeks, you will marry. The court is dismissed," 

Lady Kalali shrieked. “NO!” 

Gideon glanced at me, his expression unreadable. 

“It’s settled," 

I stared at him, the edges of the world blurring. Marry me? I couldn’t breathe. 

“Are you out of your mind?” 

His voice was quiet, pitched for my ears alone. “You’ll be safer as my wife," 

My heart thundered so hard it hurt. “But—I—”

Lady Kalali’s furious wail echoed off the marble. “Your Majesty! He belongs to me!”

Queen Omara gave her a cool, dismissive glance. “You presume too much, Lady Kalali.” 

Lady Kalali collapsed against a pillar, sobbing. 

Queen Omara’s voice snapped me back to reality. “Rebecca Rosewyn. Until the wedding, you will remain under Commander Malik’s protection. Do not mistake my leniency for mercy," She rose, crimson silk flowing around her. “Let preparations begin," 

The guards released me. I struggled to stand, my legs trembling. 

“Yes, Your Majesty.” I croaked. 

Queen Omara flicked her fingers in dismissal. “Go. Both of you. And keep this matter from escalating further," 

Gideon inclined his head in a crisp bow.

“As you command, Majesty.” 

He seized my elbow—not roughly, but firmly—and steered me out of the room. His touch was solid, steady… and entirely too warm through the thin silk of my sleeve. 

The giant doors slammed shut behind us, cutting off the echo of Kalali’s sobs and the Queen’s watchful eyes. Only then did I breathe. 

Gideon guided me through the marble corridors, his long strides forcing me to half-jog to keep up. His hand stayed on my elbow, firm and unyielding.

My head spun. My entire life had just detonated—and this man walked beside me like nothing had happened.

“Slow down,” I hissed. “I’m not your prisoner—”

“You are now the Commander’s fiancée,” Gideon said flatly. “You’re not walking out of here alone.”

Heat flared in my chest. “I didn’t ask you to—”

“Nevertheless.” His voice was granite. “You will stay with me. And you will keep your head down until I figure out how to contain this.”

I opened my mouth to snap back—

“Becca!”

The sound of his voice nearly dropped me to my knees.

Rhys came running around the corner, breathless, still in his crimson dress uniform. He skidded to a stop when he saw Gideon’s hand on my arm. His golden hair was tousled, eyes sharp with confusion and worry.

“Gods, Becca—are you all right? What happened? The guards said you’d been dragged to the Queen—”

He reached for me. But Gideon shifted subtly between us, blocking Rhys’s hand.

“Sir Ashford.” Gideon’s voice was pure ice. “Now is not the time.”

Rhys glared at him. “Back off, Commander.”

My throat tightened. “Rhys, it’s—it’s complicated.”

“Complicated?” His gaze flicked between us, fury starting to burn through his sunny expression. “Why were the guards talking about love potions and treason?”

I winced. “Rhys—”

“And why the hell is he touching you?”

Gideon’s jaw tensed. “Because she’s under my protection.”

Rhys stared at him like he’d grown two heads. “Protection? From what? Becca, talk to me!”

I tried to pull free, but Gideon’s grip didn’t budge.

Rhys’s eyes dropped to my waist, noticing how close Gideon was standing. His face went pale.

“Becca… why is he saying you’re under his protection?”

Gideon spoke before I could. “Because Rebecca Rosewyn is to be my wife.”

Rhys’s face went utterly blank.

“…What?” he rasped.

“I—” I swallowed. “Rhys, it’s not what you think—”

“You’re marrying him?” Rhys’s voice cracked. “After everything? After tonight?”

“It’s not my choice!” I cried. “I—it was an accident—the potion—”

“The potion?” His eyes went wide. “Wait. That was real? Kalali was right?”

“It wasn’t supposed to go to him!” I blurted, tears stinging my eyes. “It was supposed to be for you. I just—I needed to know if you felt the same—”

Rhys reeled back like I’d struck him. “Gods, Becca…”

“Rhys, I swear—”

But he lifted his hand, cutting me off. Hurt twisted his features into something I’d never seen before.

Gideon’s voice cut in, merciless. “Sir Ashford, leave this alone.”

Rhys glared at him. “This is none of your business.”

“It became my business when she tried to ensorcel a royal knight. And when the Queen ordered our marriage.”

Rhys’s voice dropped to a dangerous whisper. “You can’t have her.”

Gideon’s eyes narrowed. “She’s already mine.”

My breath hitched.

Rhys stared at me, heartbreak shining in his eyes. “Becca… tell me this isn’t real.”

Tears slipped down my cheeks. “Rhys… I’m so sorry.”

His shoulders sagged. Then he spun on his heel and stalked away, his crimson cloak whipping behind him.

I reached after him. “Rhys—!”

Gideon’s hand tightened on mine. “Let him go.”

I turned on him, furious. “How can you say that? I loved him!”

Gideon’s expression was stone. “And yet you’re marrying me.”

My chest heaved. “I hate you.”

His eyes locked onto mine, dark and intense. “I’d rather your hate than your indifference.”

I blinked, thrown. “What—”

But Gideon was already steering me forward again, leaving Rhys’s footsteps echoing behind us like fading thunder. He said nothing else as he dragged me through endless corridors, his grip a brand on my arm. My slippers slipped on the polished floors. I stumbled to keep up.

When we finally stopped, he shoved open a door and pulled me inside.

It was a chamber bigger than my entire shop.

Tall windows let in moonlight that spilled across ivory walls and plush carpets. A massive canopy bed sat in the center, hung with sheer curtains the color of pale smoke. Silver candelabras flickered on every surface, throwing gold light across tapestries and shelves of leather-bound books.

Gideon let go of me at last. He shut the door with a solid thud and turned the lock.

I spun on him. “You can’t just lock me up like some prisoner!”

“I’m not locking you up,” he said, voice calm as ever. “I’m keeping you safe.”

Gideon crossed the room, removing the ceremonial cloak from his shoulders and tossing it over a chair. Without the heavy layers, he looked even taller, the black fabric of his undershirt pulled tight across hard muscle. He tugged off his gloves, flexing long fingers.

His gaze cut to me. “Listen carefully. Starting tomorrow, your belongings from your shop will be brought here.”

I blinked. “What?”

“All of it,” he said flatly. “Your tools, your ingredients, your books. The Queen will not tolerate you returning there unsupervised.”

I stared at him. My shop was my mother’s legacy. My entire life. “You can’t just—”

“I can,” Gideon snapped, voice edged like a blade. “And so can the Queen. Consider yourself fortunate she’s allowing you to continue your work at all.”

I clenched my fists, trying to keep from crying again. “And Maddie?”

He hesitated. “Maddie?”

“My friend. Maddie Lyn. Short, brown hair, mouth like a sailor.”

A faint crease appeared between his brows. “She’ll be notified that you’re… indisposed.”

“Indisposed?” My voice rose. “Gideon, she’s my family—”

“And she’s a liability right now,” he cut in. “Until the situation is under control, no one is to see you unless I approve it. The Queen’s orders.”

My nails dug into my palms. “So what am I now, your prisoner or your pet?”

He strode closer until he towered over me, his presence so intense it pressed the air from my lungs.

“You’re my fiancée,” he said softly. “And until the wedding, you will stay here. Under my protection.”

I glared up at him. “I don’t want your protection.”

A flicker of something—hurt?—crossed his eyes, so fleeting I almost doubted it was real.

“That’s unfortunate,” he murmured, voice low. “Because you’re going to have it, whether you want it or not.”

I tried to shove past him, but he blocked me effortlessly, one hand braced against the wall beside my head.

I swallowed hard. His face was inches from mine, close enough that I could see the faint scar along his jaw.

“I hate you,” I whispered.

He didn’t even blink. “Good. That will make this easier.”

“For who?”

“For both of us,” he said.

Then he stepped back, cool and controlled again, as though nothing had happened.

“Rest, Rebecca. Tomorrow, you’ll need your strength. The court will be watching your every move.”

He crossed to the door, pausing with his hand on the latch.

“And remember,” he added without turning. “You’re safer with me than you’ve ever been alone.”

He slipped out, closing the door behind him.

I stood there in the silent, cavernous room, trembling from head to toe.

Safer? With Gideon Malik?

Gods help me—I wasn’t sure which was worse.