CHAPTER 271: MY PEACE

Draven.

The study door clicked shut behind Dennis, leaving the fire’s glow to burn against silence.

My thoughts lingered on Wanda for a moment longer—her pleading, her tears, her betrayal—but I was finished wasting breath on her. She was already a shadow to me.

What I needed now was something that steadied me. Someone... And there was no perfect presence that my wife’s.

So, I pushed away from the desk and strode out into the corridor, the weight in my chest easing with every step I took toward the third floor.

The hallways were quieter now, servants moving like whispers as they tidied up from breakfast.

A few bowed as I passed, but my mind was already ahead—imagining silver hair spilling over pale shoulders, soft eyes lifting when I entered.

By the time I reached my chambers, I could hear the faint rustle of fabric and the clink of porcelain.

I opened the door and there she was—curled on the settee by the window with a teacup in her hands, sunlight spilling across her face like it belonged there.

She looked up the instant she heard me, and that small, warm smile of hers disarmed the last remnants of anger Wanda had left festering in me.

"You took a while," she said softly, setting the cup down. "Was it important?"

It was necessary," I admitted. "But I would rather be here."

I closed the distance between us, every step unhurried—deliberate, and gathered her against me. She leaned in naturally, as though she had been waiting for me all along.

The scent of her, soft and clean, sank into my lungs, soothing the storm inside. For a while, I only held her, letting the silence speak.

"You smell like firewood," she teased against my chest.

"And you smell like peace," I murmured into her hair.

Her chuckle was low, warm, and I felt it vibrate against me. For a moment, we simply stood there, breathing each other in, the world outside the chamber door fading to irrelevance.

I leaned back just enough to study her face, brushing my thumb along her cheek. "You have no idea how much I missed this," I confessed, my voice rougher than I intended.

Her eyes softened, silver irises catching the light. "Then don’t leave me waiting so long next time."

I lowered my forehead to hers, letting the quiet between us say what words couldn’t. Here, in her presence, there was nothing like a storm brewing in my heart or my mind.

A few moments later, I released her from my arms. And she tilted her head, studying me with that quiet, knowing look that had begun to undo me in ways nothing else could.

But there was something I needed to tell her—something she deserved to know.

"Meredith," I said quietly, pulling back enough to meet her eyes. "I’ve decided to send Wanda back to Stormveil. She will be leaving first thing tomorrow morning."

I felt her body still, just slightly. Her brows furrowed as she searched my face.

"Why so suddenly?" she asked, her voice gentle but tinged with curiosity.

I didn’t hesitate outwardly, though inside, the truth clawed at me.

"Because," I said evenly, "she revealed classified information to her father. Information that found its way to the council, and was used to query me during the meetings back in Stormveil."

Her lips parted in surprise, her purple eyes sharpening. "She... did that?"

I nodded once. "Yes."

What I didn’t say pressed against my tongue—that the information had also been about her, about my former plan to use her as a pawn in the political game. Shame stirred deep in me.

I could still hear the council’s voices, the accusations, the way Reginald twisted Wanda’s betrayal into a weapon.

But this wasn’t the right time. I had just returned to her, and she had greeted me with nothing but warmth, with love.

I wasn’t ready to risk shattering it with an ugly truth that belonged to a past version of me—a man I no longer was.

’Soon,’ I told myself. ’I will come clean soon.’

Meredith’s gaze lingered on me, searching, weighing. For a moment, I feared she saw through my omission. But then she exhaled softly, her hand lifting to rest against my chest.

"If that’s what she did... then she deserves to leave," she said.

I covered her hand with mine, squeezing it gently. "She does," I murmured, though inside, my promise echoed again:

Soon, Meredith. You will know everything soon.

For now, I pulled her closer, burying my jaw against her hair, holding tight to the one truth I couldn’t deny—this woman in my arms was no pawn. She was my peace.

---

~**Meredith**~

When Draven mentioned that he had brought back some of our local foods from Stormveil and left to retrieve them, I let out a long breath and sank into the couch.

The silence of the room wrapped around me like a heavy cloak, and for the first time that evening, I allowed my thoughts to wander.

Wanda...

Her name itself carried a bitter taste on my tongue. Even though I should have been rejoicing that Draven had finally decided to send her away, I couldn’t stop replaying it all in my mind.

"She loved him," I thought, unsettled. "Anyone with eyes could see it. Her devotion, her possessiveness... all of it screamed love. So why betray him?"

"Love is not always as steady as it looks," Valmora’s voice whispered in the depths of my mind, rich and calm. "Sometimes it twists into envy, into resentment. Sometimes, it corrodes instead of strengthens."

I frowned, tugging absentmindedly at the sleeve of my gown. "But... to betray him like that? To give information to her father, knowing it could ruin him? That doesn’t sound like someone who loves."

Valmora hummed. "Perhaps she thought she had no choice and wanted to please her father. Perhaps anger clouded her. Or perhaps she wanted to hurt him for not choosing her."

The idea settled uneasily in me. I shook my head. "Still... Wanda never seemed like the type to give up on her love for him. Not so easily. She endured watching me at his side, she endured his coldness toward her—so why snap now?"