Chapter 70: chapter 70

Rosaline had heard from her maids that Caspian had brought a village girl into the castle—someone with no name, no status—and planned to make her his queen. She had been busy with her own life and hadn't paid much attention to it until now."That damn boy is utterly unpredictable," Rosaline muttered, her voice sharp as she swept her long silk robe behind her. She stood by the window of her opulent chamber, the early afternoon sun casting golden streaks across the marbled floor. Her head maid, Elira, stood silently behind her, hands folded.“He acts on impulse." Rosaline continued, her eyes narrowing as she stared out over the castle gardens below. “Though… perhaps this can be turned in my favor. If he truly loves the girl, that means he has a weakness now.” Her lips curved into a calculating smile. “And I can use her against him.”Rosaline turned with regal grace and looked directly at her maid. “Bring that girl to me. Now.”“As you wish, Your Grace,” Elira replied with a bow, before disappearing through the chamber doors.When Amelia entered Rosaline’s chamber, the air felt different. Heavier. Every corner of the room was laced with luxury—thick velvet curtains, hand-painted walls, a scent of lavender lingering from freshly crushed petals in a porcelain bowl. But beneath the beauty, Amelia sensed thorns.Rosaline stood to greet her, a dazzling smile on her lips, but the warmth never reached her eyes.“Come in, dear. I’m so sorry I couldn’t meet you sooner,” Rosaline said, extending a hand with practiced grace. “I’ve been... devastated after what happened to the king. I hope you understand.”Amelia gave a respectful nod. “Your Grace, it’s my pleasure to meet you. And there’s no need to apologize. I completely understand.”Rosaline tilted her head and examined the girl as if she were some rare artifact. “What a sweet girl you are,” she said. “I’ve arranged for some tea—come, let’s sit.”They moved to a small round table set on the sunlit balcony, the view sweeping over the courtyard. Delicate cups of rose-scented tea were already waiting, steam curling into the breeze.Rosaline took a delicate sip, then smiled. Her voice was soft, sweet as honey. “What’s your name, sweet girl?”“Amelia Risberg.”“Risberg...” Rosaline repeated, drawing out the syllables. “So tell me, Amelia—what does your father do?”The question hung in the air, sharp despite its innocent tone. Amelia hesitated. She tried to avoid the question—she didn’t want to share anything about her family with these people.“He’s just a commoner,” she answered, her voice calm. “Nothing special. I come from a humble family.”Rosaline waved her manicured hand through the air. “If my son chose you, there must be something special about you. I do hope we get along.”Amelia offered a polite smile. “Yes, Your Grace. I hope so too.”There was a pause—brief, intentional—before Rosaline leaned forward, her voice dropping a note lower.“You know,” she said, setting her teacup down with a quiet clink, “kings are not like common men. They pick young girls when it suits them. Use them. And once they’ve had their fill, they discard them like withered flowers.”Amelia’s spine stiffened, but she didn’t respond. Rosaline's gaze pierced her.“But you mustn’t worry,” she said, reaching forward to gently pat Amelia’s hand. “Come to me, love, whenever you need advice. I’ve lived behind these walls for far too long—I know their every secret. And I can show you the right way.”Amelia understood the meaning behind her words all too well. But now was not the time for resistance. She simply nodded. “Yes, Your Grace.”Rosaline studied her, then smiled. “You’re beautiful, no doubt about that. Now I see why Caspian picked you up from the dirt. You’re a jewel—rough, but real.”Amelia said nothing. Silence, in this moment, was her only shield.Rosaline leaned back, folding her hands. “My son is like a raging storm. Few can stand in his path, let alone tame him. Even his father—the former king—couldn’t control him. You’ll need strength, girl. And patience. If you want to survive him.”Amelia lowered her gaze. “I will try my best to please him.”The words left a bitter taste in her mouth, and she hated herself for saying them. But survival demanded sacrifice.Suddenly, the chamber doors flew open.Caspian stormed in without a word of warning, his eyes blazing with fury. His cloak billowed behind him, and the room seemed to tremble under his presence.“Go to your chamber. Right now,” he ordered.Amelia’s breath caught. The warmth of the tea, the sun, the civil tones—everything had turned to ice in an instant.“But—” she started, only for Caspian to cut her off with a look.“Leave. Now.”Amelia rose to her feet, her hands trembling slightly. “Yes, Your Highness,” she whispered and quietly exited the room. Rosaline smiled and said, “It’s not her fault, son. I invited her for a cup of tea. After all, she’ll be my daughter-in-law—we need to get to know each other.” Caspian remained silent until Amelia had walked out the door.Once the door closed behind her, Caspian turned toward his mother. The rage in his eyes had not cooled.“Don’t you dare play your dirty little games with her,” he said through clenched teeth. “If you bother her again, I swear you’ll regret it.”He didn’t wait for a reply. He spun on his heel and stormed out, leaving the scent of his fury hanging in the air.Rosaline’s expression didn’t waver. A small, cruel smile appeared on her lips.“A storm indeed,” she murmured to herself. “But even the fiercest storms can be turned... if you know where to steer the wind.”