Chapter 54: Chapter 54

KAMORA

Kamora took a step back, eyes wide in disbelief.

“My lord…you don’t have to…but—why?” she stammered, struggling to find her footing in the whirlwind of emotions blazing through her.

Lord Maroke’s gaze didn’t waver.

“Am I wrong to believe you feel something for me…just as I do for you?”

She inhaled sharply, the breath catching in her throat.

“I’ve been watching you, Kamora,” he continued, his voice low, steady. “You are the first person in a very long time to make me feel…pain. And if that’s not fate, I don’t know what is.”

“Pain?” Kamora echoed, fear flickering in her eyes. “What do you mean? How did I hurt you?”

He offered a small, wistful smile.

“Not physical pain, dear. Pain of the heart.”

Kamora’s lips parted, but no words came.

“Perhaps you’ve heard the whispers in the manor,” he said gently. “It’s no secret, after all. Everyone bearing the Maroke bloodline is cursed. Once we reach the age of twenty, we lose the ability to feel anything.”

He paused, his eyes locked on hers.

“I have spent most of my life searching for a cure, but nothing worked. For years, I’ve lived in that stillness. Until you.”

Kamora swallowed hard, her voice failing her.

She couldn’t speak. Couldn’t breathe.

“I know this feels sudden,” he continued, brushing a loose tendril of hair from her face.

His fingertips lingered against her cheek, warm and trembling.

“You expect courtship, time…normalcy. But I don’t have that luxury. I don’t know how long I have before the curse consumes me again. Before I go numb once more.”

He cupped her face with both hands now, his thumbs gently stroking her cheeks.

“I want to spend whatever time I have left truly feeling—with you. Please, Kamora…” His voice broke into a whisper, raw and full of longing.

“Marry me.”

Kamora looked down.

Though she was hesitating, this was the best thing to ever happen to her.

Never in a million years would she have imagined that Lord Maroke would confess his feelings to her.

But hidden deep within that happiness was fear.

Fear that he’d abandon her once he found out her true identity.

Will he throw her out? Will he still love her as he claimed to?

“We can take each day slowly when we marry,” Lord Maroke continued. “Get to know ourselves more. Spend time together, like it’s our last.”

Kamora sighed, then faced him, her mind made up.

She was going to agree.

It was such a strange proposal, a sudden one, but he was right.

She loved him.

So she would bury herself in that love until he threw her out.

And it would hurt, but at least she’d have the memories.

“I accept, my lord,” Kamora said.

***

The wedding was a small one.

The people working in the manor were the only invited guests, and from their faces, one could tell that they were surprised by the news.

Even Claudia was surprised, probably wondering when Kamora and Lord Maroke had found time to fall in love, or why he had done so with her.

They spent their wedding night in each other’s arms.

Lord Maroke didn’t rush her.

He instead spent the whole night telling Kamora about his childhood, and about the curse.

It was not much.

But Kamora couldn’t believe her luck.

She was happy, so happy, and because of that, she feared when it all would be ripped away from her.

The princess arrived at their manor a month after their wedding.

Word hadn’t gone out about their marriage, so aside from the people living in the manor, no one knew about it.

The princess was in the study, and Kamora gave her and Lord Maroke privacy, waiting for them by the side of the door.

“Lord Maroke, I come bearing good news,” she heard the princess say.

“Do tell.”

“I’ve finally convinced my father to give you my hand in marriage,” the princess said, her voice tinged with triumph. “You’ll need to court me properly, of course, but at least now, we can become husband and wife in the end.”

A heavy silence settled between them.

Kamora stood frozen in place, her heart pounding violently in her chest.

Lord Maroke’s expression didn’t change.

He met the princess’s expectant gaze, his tone calm but firm. “I’m grateful for your favor, Your Highness…but I cannot marry you.”

The words landed like a hammer to the ground.

“What?” the princess breathed, her smile faltering. “Why not?”

“Because I’m already married.”

Kamora’s breath hitched. She felt her heart plummet straight to the pit of her stomach.

The princess’s eyes narrowed. “You don’t have to lie to push me away.”

“I have never lied to you, nor do I see any reason to start now,” he said, his voice unwavering. “Ask anyone in the manor. They were all witnesses to my wedding.”

The princess’s voice rose with disbelief. “Then bring her here. Let me see this wife of yours.”

Another pause.

Then—

“Kamora,” Lord Maroke called softly, “come here, please.”

Kamora hesitated, then moved.

She walked boldly to her husband’s side, enough to show her respect to the princess but also to boast that Lord Maroke was her husband.

“Your assistant? Her?” the princess snapped, her voice sharp with disbelief. “But how? How could this happen?”

Lord Maroke raised a brow, his tone calm. “Would you prefer I describe the details of our marriage, Your Highness?”

The princess flinched, her lips parting as if to retort, but no words came.

Instead, her eyes locked onto Kamora with such intensity it felt like they might burn straight through her.

Kamora stood still under the weight of that stare, her heart pounding, but she refused to look away.

A tense silence filled the room.

Then the princess straightened her spine, adjusting her robes with forced dignity.

“It’s fine,” she said tightly, though her voice betrayed the sting behind her pride. “I’ll take my leave.”

She stood up and, without another word, walked out of the door.

Kamora silently followed her from behind to walk her out.

Upon reaching the entrance of the manor, the princess paused, then turned back to face Kamora.

“Congratulations,” she simply said, then walked away.

Kamora watched as the princess headed to her carriage. As she stood there, she had a dark feeling that the day marked the beginning of her end.

Another year passed.

***

“It’s okay, my love, it’s okay,” Lord Maroke said as he patted Kamora’s back while she threw up in a bowl.

The whole day had been strange for her, a series of misfortunes happening one after another.

First, she woke up late, which was unlike her. Then she was unable to eat anything without feeling the urge to barf.

Now, for the remainder of her day, she had spent it throwing up the contents of her empty stomach.

A knock sounded, and Lord Maroke called for the person to come in.

“My lord, the healer is here,” Claudia said from the entrance.

Kamora stretched out on the bed, her eyes moving to the guest who had just walked in. The man who Lord Maroke introduced as his personal healer walked quietly over to them, then bowed.

“Please come and find out what’s wrong with my wife,” Lord Maroke said.

The healer nodded, then walked toward her.

“Apologies, my lady, but I will have to hold your hand,” he said.

Kamora gave him a weak nod to go on.

The healer then leaned down and pressed two fingers against Kamora’s wrist, the one lying by the edge of the bed next to him. He frowned, then straightened.

“My lady, may I ask to please take a sample of your urine?” he asked.

“What for?” Lord Maroke blasted out.

“I’m so sorry, my lord, I mean no insult. But I have a suspicion that I want to test out,” the healer replied.

“It’s okay,” Kamora muttered. “I’ll do it.” She sat up.

“Where do you want me to…do it?” she asked.

The healer quickly reached into the bag he had hanging around his shoulder and brought out a tiny ceramic bottle.

“In here, my lady,” he said.

Kamora nodded and took the bottle, standing up from the bed to go to the adjoining bath in the room.

A few minutes later, she walked out and handed the bottle to the man.

“Please give me a few minutes, my lady,” he said.

She nodded and laid back down on the bed, her eyes heavy with drowsiness.

A few minutes later, the healer returned. “Congratulations, my lord,” the healer said, startling Kamora from her semi-sleep. “She is pregnant.”

Lord Maroke stared at her, eyes wide with disbelief. For a moment, he was completely still.

Then suddenly—he moved. In a heartbeat, he was in front of her, sweeping her into a tight embrace.

He rained kisses across her cheeks, forehead, and jaw, his joy spilling over in every movement.

“We’re going to be parents!” he exclaimed, his voice full of wonder and excitement.

Kamora smiled softly, her hand resting protectively over her stomach. “Congratulations, my lord,” she whispered.

He leaned down to hug her again, this time more gently, his arms cradling her as though she were the most precious thing in the world.

Kamora closed her eyes briefly, melting into his warmth, her heart full.

As she turned her head slightly, she caught the healer’s gaze. His expression was unreadable, but a small frown tugged at his brow as he looked at Lord Maroke.

Before she could ask anything, he quickly lowered his eyes and bowed.

“I’ll take my leave, my lord,” he said.

“Thank you for your help,” Lord Maroke answered.