Chapter 41: Chapter 41

KAMORA

Once Kamora had gone back to sleep, Lord Maroke stood from her side and walked out of the room.

“My lord,” Greyson said, coming up next to him. “I heard Kamora was found.”

“Gather everyone,” Lord Maroke said, his expression dark and resolute. “There’s something I need to announce.”

Greyson bowed and quickly went to do as ordered.

Lord Maroke walked down the grand staircase, his boots echoing against the marble steps as he strode toward the entrance hall.

The moment he appeared, the maids froze mid-task, their hands stilling as they dipped into respectful bows.

The usual hum of activity fell into hushed silence.

Claudia emerged from the kitchen, her brow faintly furrowed. “My lord, is something the matter?”

“Gather everyone,” he commanded. “I need to address the household at once.”

With a swift nod, Claudia motioned to a nearby maid, murmuring urgent instructions.

Within minutes, everyone in the Maroke Manor had assembled in the entrance hall.

The air was tense, and Lord Maroke could see that they were nervous.

~Good~, he thought. ~Let them shake.~

“It has come to my attention,” Lord Maroke began, his voice sharp as a blade, “that some of you have been sharing this household’s affairs with outsiders.”

A ripple of unease passed through the servants.

Claudia shot them a warning glance, silencing the murmurs before they could take root.

“Perhaps my leniency has made you forget the consequences of betrayal,” he said. He let the words linger, watching the color drain from a few faces.

“But that ends today.”

“My wife has returned,” he said, the declaration landing like a thunderclap. “You will act as though she is still missing. No whispers, no ~hints~ to anyone beyond these walls.”

This time, it was everyone’s turn to look at him strangely.

But he ignored their looks and continued.

“If word of her return goes outside of these walls,” he said softly, “every one of you will regret it. This is not a request. It is an order.”

He turned around and left, while Claudia shouted orders for the rest to go back to their work.

Greyson was hot on his heels, running after him. And though his expression was calm, he still exuded a state of slight confusion.

“My lord, what do you have planned?”

“The princess is with Jarosh,” he replied, his hands folding into fists. “If I want my son to return safe and sound, she needs to believe that I am yet to find Kamora.”

“How sure are you that she will bring Jarosh back today?”

“She will,” Lord Maroke said, determined. “She probably thinks that Kamora is dead. I’m sure she has a spy planted in this manor. The announcement I gave let them know that I know they are here. They will remain silent for a while in order not to get caught. When the princess doesn’t hear back from them, she will then assume that, truly, Kamora is yet to return.”

He walked up the stairs leading straight to his room where he had left Kamora to sleep.

“But I need to speed up the process,” he continued. “Kamora woke up, and the first thing she asked for was her son. I promised her that he will be by her side by the time she wakes up again, and put her to rest.”

He sighed, dragging his hand through his hair.

“My lord,” Greyson said, his voice suddenly soft. “Do you think she finally remembers?”

Lord Maroke nodded. “I think she does. She hasn’t said anything yet, but I know she remembers. And I’m so scared.”

“Why?” Greyson asked.

“I’m so scared of her reasons for leaving me. Perhaps I wasn’t a good enough husband to her.”

A burn slowly started in his chest and he winced, placing his hand atop it.

“It’s been a while since you took your medication.”

“I’m trying to lower the dosage so as not to get addicted to it,” he said. He sighed. “But I might need it now more than ever.”

“Should I call the doctor?”

“No. For now, let’s not trust anyone besides ourselves, especially those outside of the manor until we solve this problem together.”

Greyson nodded and didn’t say anything else.

Once they reached Lord Maroke’s room, they paused at the door.

“I need you to do something for me, Greyson.”

“Yes, my lord. What is it?”

“Spread a rumor,” Lord Maroke commanded, his voice low. “One strong enough to reach the princess’s ears. Tell them I’ve lost not only my wife but my son as well. Make it as tragic as possible. Let her play the hero, the one who ~saves~ Jarosh. She’ll ask for something in return, no doubt.”

“And would you give it to her?” Grayson asked.

Maroke fixed Grayson with a withering stare. “Now why would I?” Without another word, he turned and strode to his room.

The room was hushed, the air thick with the scent of soothing paste and medicine.

Kamora lay still beneath the covers, her chest rising in shallow breaths.

He sank onto the edge of the bed, taking her hand in his. His thumb traced slow circles over her knuckles, as if memorizing the shape of her.

~Gratitude~—it flooded him, fierce and aching.

She was here. She was alive.

This time, she’d escaped. But the next?

His grip tightened, just for a heartbeat, before he forced his fingers to gentleness again.

Her face was full of untold stories—the shadows under her eyes, the set of her jaw.

He longed to hear them yet dreaded the truth they might carry.

~Let it be a kidnapping~, he begged silently. ~Let her absence have been against her will.~

The alternative—that she’d left him freely, that she’d never loved him—was a wound he couldn’t bear to reopen.

“I love you,” he whispered, the words raw.

“I don’t know why I fear the worst. Why every clue leads me to the same conclusion.”

His thumb stilled, pressing lightly into her pulse.

“But if it’s true…why? We were ~perfect~. What could I have done to drive you away?”

Time passed, and he simply sat there, staring at his sleeping wife.

He didn’t know for how long he remained in that position. A hesitant knock brought him out of his musing.

“Come in,” he said. He didn’t turn.

The door creaked open behind him.

“My lord.” Claudia’s voice was uncharacteristically thin. “The princess has arrived.”

His fingers twitched against Kamora’s palm before he willed them still.

A slow, deliberate breath filled his lungs as he then asked, “Is Jarosh with her?”

“Yes, my lord.”

Something about the way she spoke seemed odd, so he turned around to face her.

“What is it?”

“It is Jarosh, my lord. He doesn’t look well at all.”