Days after King Damon's injury, the tension in the castle had slowly begun to subside, but life for Evelyn would never be the same. She was now a conspicuous figure—the one who had saved the King.
Lysandra acted toward her almost like a warden in the name of protection. "Just do the quietest, darkest work. Do not go outside. The King's recovery was our success alone, do you understand?" she had warned. The silver coins continued to flow, which was reason enough for Evelyn to remain silent.
The Shadow Going to the Dungeon
That afternoon, Evelyn was sorting herbs in the Infirmary's deepest, dampest cellar. This dungeon was completely isolated from the palace's main corridors, and Evelyn felt safe there. As the daily hustle of the court continued outside, Evelyn was meticulously cleaning small grubs from the leaves of the herbs.
The door suddenly opened silently.
Evelyn dropped the herbs in her hand. A formidable shadow with powerful shoulders and a regal posture stood in the doorway: Alpha King Damon.
He was unarmored, wearing only a black tunic, and the customary weight he usually carried on his shoulders was absent for the moment. His eyes, as always, were sharp and ice-blue, but this time they were focused not on Evelyn, but on the empty space directly ahead of him.
Evelyn held her breath. This encounter was vastly different from the panic-filled, duty-driven one it was not like before.This was an intimate, unnecessary encounter.
The King was holding a tiny, pale yellow flower, too delicate for a dungeon. He advanced slowly toward Evelyn. The moment his eyes locked onto Evelyn's face, she felt something unexpected: The King's heart began to race.
She felt Damon's strong chest thumping faster as he drew closer. Damon's face remained stony, but his body's reaction terrified Evelyn. This was not the reaction a Lycan showed to a mere mortal.
King Damon came to Evelyn without uttering a single word. He took the delicate yellow flower in his hand and tucked it into the stray lock of Evelyn's hair, right next to her ear. The cool petals touched Evelyn's skin.
Damon paused for a moment. His ice-blue eyes lingered on Evelyn's for another second. This time, it wasn't Evelyn who looked away. Her gaze was drowning in that icy depth.
The King turned and quickly exited the dungeon, just as silently as he had arrived.
Evelyn remained motionless. The delicate yellow flower felt like a flame burning her skin. Was this gesture an act of kindness, or merely a fleeting curiosity?
The Shared Delight
A few days later, Evelyn was sitting by an old well in the most secluded corner of the Castle grounds, eating her lunch. It was a piece of small bun with raisins and hazelnuts, sent by her mother with the monthly provisions. After the palace's coarse bread, this was a taste of heaven for Evelyn.
The well was too far in the corner for anyone to frequent. As Evelyn took another bite of the bun, she heard the faint sound of Royal armor.
King Damon, cloaked, appeared silently again.
This time, Damon's face was softer. His wound had almost completely healed. The King stood before Evelyn, and his gaze drifted to the piece of bun in her hand.
"What is that?" he asked. Evelyn realized now how deep his voice was when he wasn't barking orders.
Evelyn was nearly choked with surprise. "It's... a kind of bun my mother made, Your Majesty."
Damon extended his hand. "May I taste it?"
With trembling hands, Evelyn tore a small piece of the bun and placed it in the King's palm. Damon took the small piece, inhaled its scent, and gracefully placed it in his mouth.
An expression Evelyn had never seen before crossed Damon's face: A slight smile.
"Sweet," the King murmured, his voice low. "This bun... where does your mother live?"
"Near the Silver Valley border," Evelyn whispered. "Beyond the village."
King Damon paused for a moment, a thoughtful look in his eyes. "Your mother is lucky enough to bake buns for a girl who steals flowers from the dungeon, is she?"
Evelyn's eyes widened in astonishment. So, he had stolen that flower for Evelyn when going to the dungeon.
"Get back to your work, healer," Damon said, erasing his smile and returning to his usual cold demeanor. "And... don't eat such delicious things alone."
The King turned and left.
Rising Passion and Cold Reality
These two unexpected and intimate actions by the King began to dismantle Evelyn's walls of logic. When his icy heart raced, when he tucked a flower in her hair, when he tasted her mother's bun... Evelyn was swept away by a torrent of emotion mixed with fear.
She was uncontrollably drawn to Damon. Love. This dangerous feeling threatened the rational contract she had forged for her family.
But when evening fell, the reality behind the castle walls struck Evelyn.
While preparing soothing tea in the infirmary, she overheard the whispers of two Lycan nurses.
"The Tower was so quiet last night. Is the King finally resting?"
"No, darling, he invited Princess Elara. They say laughter was heard all night. Elara is the first concubine to stay in the Tower for two consecutive nights."
Evelyn's hands trembled, and she nearly spilled the boiling water. Damon's heart racing, the flower, the smile... none of it meant anything to him. He was a King, and after spending time with a mortal, he returned to his bed with the most beautiful of the concubines to fulfill his duty.
Evelyn took a deep breath. Love was nothing but politics in this palace. She was only there for the silver. But her heart, no matter how much she denied it, had belonged to the Alpha King from that first touch in the dungeon.