Lahat ng Kabanata ng The Heir's Secret Child: A Royal Scandal: Kabanata 41 - Kabanata 50

**MYRKON**It was one of those rare days where both Catherine and her mother had an off-day on the same day. So, they made plans to go to the market.Stalls pressed close along the narrow street, a jumble of canvas awnings and wooden crates. Fish glistened on beds of crushed ice; spices turned the air sharp and warm by turns.Voices rose and fell around them—vendors calling, women laughing, children darting in and out of gaps like small, determined birds.“Not that one,” Elizabeth muttered, eyeing a basket of tomatoes. “They’re soft.”Catherine leaned in, fingers brushing the fruit. “These are better,” she said, selecting a few firmer ones and passing them to the seller.A man with a tray of sweet buns walked past, the scent of honey and cinnamon trailing behind him. Catherine’s stomach twisted with sudden craving.Elizabeth noticed. “Oh no,” she said, laughing. “Now, we have to get it.”“Is that a rule?” Catherine asked, amused.“Yes,” Elizabeth said. “What the baby wants, we have to

**ELDORIA**The article landed in Eldoria’s Palace early the next morning. By midafternoon, the King’s temper had had time to simmer.“Send for my son!” He ordered, his voice sharp with anger. “Immediately!”Queen Charlotte sat by her husband’s side, holding the papers tightly as she read it again.As soon as he stepped into the throne room, George knew something was terribly wrong. “Your Majesties,” he bowed. “You sent for me.”“How many times do I have to tell you, boy?” Arthur started, wasting no time. “You are no longer a child. You need to commit fully to Katarina. Why do you want to jeorpadize things kingdom with your stubbornness?”George’s temper, kept under careful lock for weeks, shifted against its restraints.“I don’t understand what you mean,” he said, the words clipped. “I attend every engagement with her. I am doing what you want. Is that not enough?”“Not if it’s undone by your past,” Arthur shot back. “Not if some foolish entanglement from before you remembered who yo

**MYRKON**After a few breaths, she stood. The broadside flapped in the breeze behind her as she turned away and walked the way home slowly.When she arrived at the tavern, it was quieter than usual. Elizabeth was sitting near the end of the bar just as she was about to climb the stairs to their room.“Ma?” She called as she walked up to her. “What are you doing downstairs?”Elizabeth, who was mending a shirt, looked up. “Just finishing some things for the innkeeper,” she said. “You’re late. Is Lena keeping you?”“I took the long way,” Catherine said.Elizabeth’s gaze moved over her face. “Come,” she said, patting the bench beside her. “Sit before you fall.”Catherine sank down. For a moment, she stared at the grain of the table, tracing a knot with her fingertip.“What happened?” Elizabeth asked quietly.Catherine swallowed. The words felt thick. “At the harbor,” she said. “There was a broadside. From Eldoria. About George and the Drakonhelm princess.”Elizabeth’s hand stilled on the

**ELDORIA**Isla softly on the door of Katarina’s chamber.“Come in,” Katarina called.Isla walked in carrying a stack of neatly ordered papers and a sealed letter.“Good morning, Your Highness,” she said. “The latest papers are here. And this letter came with the Drakonhelm seal from home.”Katarina set aside the jeweled hair comb she’d been pretending to examine and straightened in her chair by the window.“Thank you,” she said. “Put them here.”Isla crossed the room and laid the bundle gently on the small writing table.Her movements were as composed as always, but Katarina, who knew her better than most, saw the tiny tension at the corner of her mouth.She picked up the letter first. The seal was her mother’s—Margaret’s crest pressed into dark wax, the impression slightly smudged as if applied in haste.Why is Mother sending me a private letter? she thought to herself.She broke the seal and opened the letter.My dearest Katarina,Your father and I have received your last letter a

**ELDORIA**Seren had met Rafe to help him disguise as a guard so he could blend easily with them while asking unsuspecting questions.He adjusted the borrowed uniform coat on his shoulders as he followed Rafe into the guardroom. It smelled of sweat, metal oil, and the sour tang of old ale soaked into wood.“It’s their break time,” Rafe murmured under his breath. “You’ve got until the bell.”“I won’t need that long,” Seren replied.He let Rafe go ahead, letting his friend’s easy familiarity lead the way. He was a part of them afterall.Men greeted him with nods, a clap to the shoulder.“Rafe!” one called from a bench near the back. “Come to teach us how to sleep with our eyes open again?”“Trade secret,” Rafe shot back. “You lot couldn’t afford my rates.”Laughter rolled through the room, loose and unselfconscious. Mugs clinked. Someone tossed a crust of bread at Rafe; he caught it one‑handed and took a bite.Seren scanned faces. He’d done his homework. The men he needed were on this