CHAPTER 130: BROKEN TRUST

"Do you not trust me?" Aldric asked, his voice soft, laced with hurt.

Sylvia’s throat tightened. For a heartbeat, she almost apologized. Almost. But Lorraine mattered more than anything, more than him and his hurt feelings. "If you have nothing to hide, you won’t mind if I inform the Prince about your little meetings with the Dowager’s moles, right?" she asked firmly.

She was shocked when she saw it. She wanted to trust him and that was why she confronted him about it.

Aldric bowed his head and exhaled. "When have I ever hurt the Princess?"

Sylvia pressed her lips together. His voice carried such wounded sincerity that it almost swayed her. Almost. But the lavender haze lifted almost immediately as her rationality kicked in. He wasn’t even addressing her claims. He was just talking about trust. "That’s not an answer."

Aldric stepped closer, pressing his forehead to hers. "Then all I can ask is to trust me."

His breath brushed against her cheek, his scent familiar, protective. A comfort she craved. But she held her ground. "Do you know where the Princess is?"

He froze. His eyes widened. "You don’t trust me..."

Her chest tightened painfully. She hardened her heart, turned, and began to walk away.

His hand shot out, gripping her arm. "You still haven’t answered me about my proposal."

Sylvia couldn’t even face him. She wanted to say yes. She wanted him. But her silence was answer enough.

"You really don’t trust me, do you?" His voice cracked with something raw.

She avoided his eyes, pulled free, and stepped away.

"Why? Even if you don’t trust me, trust your Princess. Trust her to kill me if I ever hurt you, just as she killed your husband."

Sylvia froze. Slowly, she turned back, her face pale, eyes wide. That secret... only she and Lorraine knew.

Her body trembled with memory of the bruises, the fear on the night Lorraine walked past without interfering. She had only seen Lorraine, who was fifteen then, hiding and avoiding anyone and everyone in the Arvand mansion. That night, she saw something in that young girl’s eyes. But she did nothing.

The morning after, however, she watched Lorraine deliberately poison her abusive husband’s clothes. No words. No explanations. She looked at her and then left. A silent choice left to her. He had died that night, and she was free. Since then, Sylvia had pledged her loyalty forever. Lorraine was her savior.

And Aldric... she didn’t know what his plans were.

"You..." Her voice broke. "Don’t you dare—don’t you dare use that against me."

"Syl—" He reached for her.

"Don’t touch me!" she shouted, her face twisted with rage. How could he ask her to trust him after this?

He stopped. His hand hovered, then fell. She turned and stormed away, leaving him in the shadows.

Aldric bowed his head. His fists clenched, and when they struck the wall, skin tore against wood, pain blossoming like fire, but he didn’t care. He stood there, breathing in measured rhythm, forcing the chaos in his chest to fall into order. Every instinct screamed to chase her, to seize her wrist again, to plead, to explain, to command.

But he knew better. If he pressed her now, she would slip from his grasp forever.

So, he let her go.

His eyes narrowed, shadowed with something unreadable. He would wait, as he always had. Wait until the board shifted, until Sylvia no longer had the strength or the will to question where his loyalties lay.

He hoped that day would come by her trust and not by her ruin, for he had a lot of plans for her.

-----

Leroy had first thought she might be hiding in the abandoned building by the walls. He searched every shadowed corner, but she was not there.

Afterward, he ordered the gate rolls, the ledgers where every departure from the city was recorded by the watchmen, to be brought to him. Her name was not written. But that meant little. If she had slipped past, she would not have used her name, nor left openly.

My dearest... where are you?

For a moment, his knees nearly gave way beneath him. Yet he remained standing. He was too well-known, too easily recognized. He could not risk breaking here, not where eyes might see what he wished hidden.

So he forced his spine straight, his jaw tight. If he could not find her, then at least he would pursue what was left before him. He turned his attention back to the investigation, to the accident in the arena. Whatever the truth of it, the Emperor had given his orders. And Leroy, prince or prisoner, could not disobey.

-----

Screams of Elyse echoed through the dungeon stone. Every time the iron door groaned open, her body shook violently, her throat straining though no sound was left in it.

Lorraine watched her unravel, expression calm, almost curious.

When Elyse’s trembling steps carried her toward the noose swaying in the stale air, Lorraine tilted her head. Will she? Won’t she?

Hadrian had already fainted, his hoarse pleading had finally sputtered into silence. Good. His voice had grated on her nerves. Now, nothing distracted her from the spectacle. She wanted to see what Elyse would choose.

But Elyse faltered, curling up on the ground instead.

"What a coward," Lorraine murmured.

The hinges screeched again. As her man entered, Elyse startled like a hunted animal, then bolted for the stool, her shriek tearing her raw throat.

"Hadrian!" Lorraine kicked off her slipper and flung it at her father’s head, jolting him awake. Things were finally getting interesting. She sank her teeth into a fresh apple, juice running down her lip as she bit hungrily.

"NO! Elyse, don’t—!" Hadrian rasped when he realized. His chains rattled as he struggled up, panic lending him strength. "Don’t do it!"

Lorraine’s laughter chimed over his plea. How quickly the highborn princess was breaking. Six years she had endured gilded torment, yet here in a few days the pampered daughter was unraveling, thread by thread.

Elyse’s sapphire eyes were vacant now, void of reason, hollow with terror. She climbed onto the stool, noose clutched in shaking hands.

"Think of your sons!" Hadrian begged. "Think of your mother. Think of me! Do not leave me like this. Please, Lazira, stop her. Be merciful... do not make me watch her die."

Lorraine didn’t even glance at him. Scream, Hadrian. Scream until your lungs burst. This is how I screamed in silence all those years you broke me. Only I never had the luxury of sound. You should be grateful I allow you to wail.

The rope scraped against Elyse’s pale throat as she pulled it tight and stepped off the stool.