Chapter. Thirty_three.

Three years later...

The grand hall is alive with laughter, music, and lively conversations. Guests swirl across the floor in exuberant dances, while entertainers captivate the crowd with their skill and artistry.

At the head of the hall, the royal family sits in regal prominence, observing the festivities with a composed air of pride and celebration.

Former King Elias stands, his face glowing with joy as he raises a golden chalice. His warm, commanding voice cuts through the lively din of the room.

"Thank you all for joining me in celebrating my son's exceptional leadership. Arthur has proven himself to be a ruler who deeply cares for his people." He turns to Arthur, his eyes shining with pride. "Son, would you like to say a few words to your people?"

Arthur rises from his seat, his movements measured but tense. Forcing a faint smile, he speaks briefly. "Thank you all," he says, raising a hand in a quick wave.

Without waiting for applause or acknowledgment, he excuses himself and strides out of the grand hall, leaving the jubilant atmosphere behind.

Outside, the night is cloaked in darkness, the quiet an almost oppressive contrast to the boisterous celebrations inside.

Loretta follows swiftly after him, her heels clicking sharply against the marble floor. Catching up, she calls out, her voice sharp with frustration.

"Arthur! What was that? 'Thank you all'? That's all you can manage to say to the people who traveled so far to honor you? Father is so proud of you; he arranged this entire celebration for your sake!"

Arthur halts, his back still to her. His voice, low and heavy, carries a barely restrained edge. "Go back inside, Loretta. I’m losing my mind again, and I don’t want to take it out on you. Just… leave me alone."

Before Loretta can respond, a guard approaches, his head bowed respectfully. "My lord," the guard says, his voice cautious, "I found another boy. This time, I followed your instructions carefully. He bears a strong resemblance to Madin."

Arthur doesn’t look at the guard, his tone cold and detached. "Take him to my chambers. Follow the usual process."

The guard bows again and retreats, leading the young man away. Loretta’s gaze burns with disbelief as she stares at her brother.

"Arthur, you’re still doing this? I thought you stopped! How many more men will you summon to your chambers, only to discard them? No matter what you do, none of them will ever replace Madin or make you feel what he made you feel. If this is your way of coping, it’s a failure. Let him go, Arthur. Let Madin him go! It's been years."

Arthur's voice is barely above a whisper, weighed down by unspoken anguish. "It’s easy for you to say because you’re not the one living with this pain." Without another word, he turns and walks away, his figure dissolving into the shadows of the corridor.

In his chambers, the guard prepares the young man, dressing him in Madin’s old robes.

The ritual has been repeated countless times, a hollow attempt to recreate what Arthur has lost.

Each time, the result is the same—frustration, anger, and a deeper descent into despair.

Arthur’s nights are haunted by dreams of Madin—visions of what could have been, moments of trust and connection he failed to nurture.

The emptiness gnaws at him, the longing unrelenting. Each attempt to replicate the feeling of Madin’s presence ends in failure, leaving him more consumed by his grief.

His frustration grows into resentment, a twisted belief that Madin has cursed him, binding him to this endless torment.

Yet, even in his darkest moments, he cannot let go of the hope that one day he will find Madin again.

°

Elsewhere in the palace, the celebration continues unabated. Guests feast on luxurious food and drink, the music weaving an enchanting spell over the room. In a private chamber, however, the mood is far from festive.

Jona storms into Catherina’s room, his rage palpable as he knocks over objects in his path. "I’ve received a report that someone might know where Madin is!" he shouts, his voice trembling with fury. "But you—you haven’t solved my problem yet! I don’t see how this alliance is helping me at all.

Arthur is breaking down, but Father and Loretta keep shielding him! He’s still performing his duties perfectly. Even if Madin dies and Arthur crumbles, it won’t stop him from being king! Father still sees Arthur as his successor, not me. And you—Arthur might despise you now, but he might turn to you eventually!"

Catherina, trying to interject, finally snaps, her voice cold and sharp. "Bring him to me. Send your men to bring Madin to me."

Jona glares at her, incredulous. "That’s all you care about? Did you even hear what I just said?"

Catherina meets his gaze with a calculating smile. "Don’t worry about your father. I’ll handle him myself. Just bring me Madin. That’s all we need."

Her tone is laced with a dark delight.

.... If Arthur refuses to be mine, then he can as well  forget about being with the one he claims to love. I’ll make sure of that...  she thinks to herself.

Jona’s curiosity flickers. "And how exactly do you plan to deal with him?"

"Do you trust me or not?" she retorts sharply. "Just bring Madin. By the time you return, your problem will be solved."

Though he suspects deception, Jona nods grudgingly. "You’d better deliver." With that, he storms out of the room.

Left alone, Catherina hums a soft tune to herself, her anticipation growing. She doesn’t fully understand why Madin holds such power over Arthur, but she’s determined to uncover the truth.

Madin thought he had ruined my life, she muses, but it’s time for him to see that I am the one who will ruin his.

And for Arthur__ if he has completely refused to be with me, then he can as well forget about his so called 'love of his life!'

°

Later that night, Jona slips out of the palace under the cover of darkness. Meeting with his loyal men, he relays Catherina’s orders, his determination unshaken.

Despite knowing how dangerous she is, he clings to her promises. She is his last hope of claiming the throne.

For three years, Jona has played her pawn, shielding her from being expelled from the palace.

Her manipulation is expert, her ambitions aligning with his own. And though he loathes her, he cannot deny the hope she stirs within him—the hope that, one day, he will stand where Arthur does now, finally recognized as the rightful heir to the throne.