Sold To The Cruel Prince

Aelion stared at her, unsettled by her laughter.

This was not something he laughed about.

It was the wound that had carved itself into his soul long before he could remember. He was the bastard son of an aristocrat who had abandoned him... and the son of the man who had killed his mother.

What was there to laugh about?

Yet there was no mockery in Aveline’s laughter. No pity either.

Only warmth.

"What is so wrong with being you?" Aveline asked, her laughter softening into a smile that reached her eyes. "You’re a talented lightning-bender. You’re handsome. You have a good heart and a brilliant mind. I don’t like how you always think of yourself through the circumstances of your birth."

Aelion fell silent. Even the hand that had risen to brush back his long hair froze midway.

"I am sorry about your mother," Aveline continued gently. "But... if she hadn’t fallen in love... you wouldn’t be here."

She smiled.

"And then I wouldn’t have met you."

Her voice grew quieter.

"So... for me, at least... your birth worked out for the best."

Silence settled between them.

The words washed over him like cold water. Then, strangely... Warmth followed.

No one had ever looked at him that way before. People pitied him despised him, mocked him, and ignored him.

But no one had ever looked at his existence and simply... been grateful for it.

Something deep inside him shifted. A place he had long believed empty suddenly felt unbearably full.

"And about Theron..." Aveline said, breaking the silence before it became uncomfortable. "I understand why you’re worried. Ever since Lucien called me your sister, you’ve taken that role very seriously, haven’t you?"

She laughed softly.

"But I trust him."

A gentle smile bloomed across her face.

"And I love him."

The words left her lips so naturally that she paused for a heartbeat afterward. This was the first time she had admitted it aloud. Not to Theron. But to someone else.

Even so... It felt right.

"He covered me with his cloak," she added. "I heard that’s an old wedding custom."

Aelion’s expression immediately became serious again. "It means nothing without witnesses." His voice carried genuine concern. "You weren’t raised here, Ava. Customs are easy to misunderstand... and easy for others to misuse."

Aveline merely shrugged.

"This isn’t funny."

She leaned closer with a mischievous smile. "I have his night robe."

She tilted her head. "That doesn’t need witnesses, does it?"

Aelion simply stared. His mouth opened. No words came. Finally... he managed to speak.

"His... night robe?" His voice cracked so spectacularly that Aveline burst into laughter.

"You should see your face."

"Ava..." He blinked several times. "You’re... you’re not lying?"

"I can show it to you. It’s folded inside my dresser."

He searched her face for any hint of mischief. There was none.

After a long silence, he released a slow breath. If the Crown Prince had truly given her his night robe... If she trusted him this completely...

Then perhaps... Perhaps he truly was serious about her.

And with everyone believing Aveline to be Lucien’s goddaughter, even the Crown Prince could not act carelessly.

"And if he ever betrays me," Aveline added lightly, waving a hand with all the solemn authority of a benevolent queen granting a decree, "you’re allowed to strike him with one of your lightnings, right on his dense head."

"I officially give you permission."

A laugh escaped Aelion before he could stop it. A real one, bright and unrestrained. He could never predict what this woman would say next.

As though she would ever need someone else to avenge her.

Yet...

Perhaps that wasn’t what she meant at all. Perhaps she truly saw him as family.

The thought settled somewhere warm inside his chest.

They resumed walking toward the laboratories.

"If my father ever approaches you," Aelion said after a while, "walk away."

She looked at him curiously.

"He’s easy to recognize. He looks like me... except his hair is short."

Aelion clicked his tongue.

"And he’ll say ridiculous things. Like claiming I offered you my night robe."

He shook his head.

"The man’s not even old, yet he’s already turned senile... That old goat..."

Aveline blinked. "But... you did offer me your night robe. In fact, you insisted I take it. Don’t you remember?"

She couldn’t help smiling as the memory resurfaced.

Back at the tavern...

She had stood between Aelion and Kael while the two of them argued, tugging her arms from opposite sides like children fighting over their favorite toy.

Aelion frowned.

"I did?"

He looked genuinely bewildered.

Would he really have done something so forward?

Aveline’s smile slowly faded. Theron had been there that night too. If the King could erase memories... could Theron do it as well? And could he have erased Aelion’s as well?

She frowned.

How petty.

"It’s getting late."

She gently tugged his sleeve. "Come on."

She needed to ask Theron before drawing any conclusions.

After a few quiet steps, Aelion spoke again. "You’ve known the Crown Prince for a long time?"

"We grew up together," Aveline said. "Back in Aurelmont."

He stopped. "What?"

His brows knitted together. "Then..." His voice softened.

"What happened to your back?"

Aveline looked at him.

"I saw the scars." He immediately raised both hands. "Only for a moment. The Crown Prince raised the Aurelion Veil almost immediately."

He looked genuinely uncomfortable. "I wasn’t trying to..."

Aveline simply shook her head. "It happened after he left." She smiled faintly. "After my parents died."

Aelion stared at her. "What?"

She tilted her head. "Did you think I was exaggerating when I told everyone what I’d been through?"

He lowered his gaze. He had. Not because he thought she was dishonest. Because he had wanted to believe no one could have suffered that much.

"As I told you before," Aveline said gently, "your life isn’t as terrible as you think." She looked ahead.

"There are worse places to be, Aelion."

He swallowed. For once... He had no answer.

After several quiet moments, he finally spoke. "The cotton..."

Aveline met his eyes without hesitation. "Theron will return it to the people."

Her voice carried absolute certainty. "And he’ll bring down the Chancellor."

Anyone willing to burn food and warmth rather than let the people have them...

"Someone like that shouldn’t remain in power."

Aelion searched for an argument.

None came.

He had fought beside the rebels for years. He had watched them bleed. Watched them sacrifice everything. He himself had stood by them and fought.

Agreeing with the Crown Prince felt like betraying all of that.

Yet... This had never been about pride. It had always been about the people.

With a quiet sigh, he nodded. His uncle would understand.

At least, that was what he hoped.

------

Meanwhile, Theron strode into the royal court, his cloak billowing behind him.

Today...

The Chancellor would fall.