Shackled To The Enemy King

Chapter 207: An Unexpected Call

Maximilian moved quietly through the kitchen, finishing the last touches of dinner while Catherine’s voice floated in from the other room, bright, animated, completely consumed in her conversation.

"You will make me four dresses, Sophia. I’ll buy the other ones, reluctantly, from other designers," Catherine declared.

"Four?" Sophia sounded stunned. "Well... welcome dinner, ceremony, reception, after-party... Do you want a separate one for the first dance?"

"I need five dresses from you, then," Catherine corrected immediately, not missing a beat. "For the first dance, I need a proper waltz ballgown. For the ceremony, a Victorian-style lace dress. And for the others..." she paused dramatically, "you go hard, Mom."

Sophia exhaled audibly. "I’ve never made a wedding dress before. Shouldn’t you try other designers first?"

Catherine’s response came so fast it almost overlapped. "You’ve been dressing me since I was born. You can design my wedding dress."

And just like that, the conversation rolled on—ideas, fabrics, silhouettes, colors—her excitement spilling through every word.

Maximilian leaned against the counter for a moment, watching her from a distance.

She was glowing.

Not just smiling—but alive in a way that made the entire room feel warmer. She paced as she spoke, her bare feet brushing against the floor, her free hand gesturing wildly. Every now and then she laughed, the sound light and unrestrained, and even from where he stood, he could see the faint flush on her cheeks.

Her hands were cold—he knew that without even touching her. They always were when she got too excited.

And yet, she didn’t notice.

She was too happy.

In the corner of his heart, he did feel sad that he didn’t give her this happiness in their past life. But he was glad she was not holding it against him now.

He set the table carefully, placing each dish in its place, making sure everything was just right. When he finally straightened, Catherine turned, mid-sentence, and looked at him.

Her voice didn’t stop. freёweɓnovel.com

But her eyes softened.

Just for him.

The shift was small, almost imperceptible to anyone else, but he felt it...saw it... and he held onto it.

She lifted her hand, pressed her fingers to her lips, and then blew him a kiss across the room.

Maximilian smiled, playing along as always. He reached out, caught the invisible kiss mid-air, and pressed it gently over his heart.

A quiet breath left him seeing that bright smile on her face.

Content. Full. Almost disbelieving.

If happiness had a shape, a sound, a presence... it would look like this.

Catherine eventually wrapped up the call, promising Sophia she would send references, ideas, and probably a hundred messages before the night ended. She dropped her phone onto the couch and made her way to the table, still buzzing with energy.

"You made all this?" she asked, though she already knew the answer.

Maximilian pulled out her chair. "Sit."

She did, but not without leaning in first, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek.

"Thank you," she murmured.

Dinner unfolded slowly, comfortably.

Candles flickered softly between them. Outside, snow continued to fall, blanketing the world in quiet white, while inside, warmth settled into every corner. Catherine talked between bites—about dresses, about colors, about guest lists she hadn’t even finalized yet—and Maximilian listened, occasionally adding a word, mostly just watching her.

At some point, her foot brushed against his under the table.

It stayed there.

Neither of them moved it away.

It wasn’t grand. It wasn’t extravagant. But it was theirs.

"What do you think of having the wedding in four months?" Catherine asked, her tone lighter than the thought behind it. "Mid-spring?"

Maximilian raised a brow, studying her for a moment rather than answering immediately. "Will that be enough time?" he asked. "For everything you’re planning?"

It wasn’t a small wedding. Not even close. It was the kind of scale that took months of coordination, layers of detail, a hundred moving parts—and Catherine had already begun building it in her mind like a grand production.

For a fraction of a second, her smile wavered.

It was subtle. Easy to miss.

But not for him.

Then she looked at him again, and the smile returned, softer, steadier. "It’ll be better to do it soon," she said. "Leaving too much space between engagement and wedding..." Her voice dipped, threaded with something quieter. "It didn’t work out well last time, did it?"

The air shifted.

Not heavy. Not dark. Just... honest.

Then she straightened slightly, brushing it off with a practiced ease. "Four months is enough. Our family has handled weddings in less time."

Maximilian didn’t argue.

He reached across the table instead, taking her hand in his, his thumb brushing over her knuckles.

"Catherine," he murmured, leaning forward to press a soft kiss to her lips, "we’ll get married in four months. Just like you want."

It wasn’t just agreement.

It was a promise.

She looked at him for a moment, searching, and then nodded. "I know."

She did.

That was the difference this time.

Her phone buzzed against the table, breaking the quiet.

She glanced at it, then picked it up.

[Permit got approved. I’ll build the lab beside your home. Will send the blueprint to you for approval first.]

A smile spread across her face.

[Thanks, Jon!]

She set the phone down and looked at Maximilian. "Looks like Timmy Rathbourne understood your visit. We got approval for the lab." freeweɓnovel.cѳm

Maximilian’s expression brightened immediately. "Congratulations, Catherine," he said, genuinely pleased. "It’ll take a few months before it’s operational, though. Three to four, at least." He paused, a hint of mischief slipping in. "Until then..."

Catherine narrowed her eyes slightly. "What? Another surprise?"

"I’ve arranged for you to work at a lab nearby," he said. "You can start anytime."

Her brows lifted in surprise, followed by a small, appreciative smile.

"And one more thing," he added, leaning forward again, his tone shifting just enough to signal importance. "Bernice found out that Jonathan has figured something out from your research. He’s working on it separately."

Catherine stilled for a moment, her mind already turning.

"What did he figure out?" she asked.

Maximilian watched her carefully. "You didn’t change just one part, did you?"

She shook her head. "No. I made multiple changes. If he figured something out, it’s probably a partial sequence at best." Then she exhaled softly. "Still... I’ll have to work on it alongside the wedding."

A small smile returned, though it carried a different weight now. "Looks like the next four months are going to be... busy."

Busy wasn’t new to her.

But this was.

She looked at him, her expression softening again, a hint of uncertainty slipping through the confidence.

"I don’t know how to do this... fiancée thing," she admitted quietly. "If I get too caught up in work... if it feels like I’m ignoring you..." Her fingers tightened slightly around his. "Talk to me. Please."

It wasn’t insecurity.

It was intention.

She didn’t want to repeat old mistakes.

Maximilian chuckled softly, squeezing her hand. "I will," he said. "Don’t worry."

He had no intention of letting her disappear into her work anyway. If she buried herself in it, he’d simply follow—stand beside her, annoy her, distract her, exist in her space until she had no choice but to notice him.

"And..." he added, his voice lowering just a fraction, "I’ll take care of Dorian too."

Her heart skipped a beat at the mention of his name. She hated that he was still getting dragged into their life. But Catherine didn’t question Maximilian’s promise.

She simply leaned against his shoulder, the weight of the day, the excitement, the quiet fear—all settling into something steadier.

"Thank you..." she murmured. "You’re being so supportive of me."

She meant more than just the lab.

More than the wedding.

More than the words.

Maximilian rested his cheek lightly against her hair, his hand still holding hers.

For once, there were no barriers left between them. Just honesty.

And the quiet understanding that this time... They weren’t going to let anything come between them again.

But something in Catherine’s chest tightened. Like something... ominous. She couldn’t explain that feeling. But she looked at Maximilian.

Maybe... it’ll be fine...

It was then that her phone rang.

"It’s Fitzgerald Rathborne," Catherine said, furrowing her brows.

Maximilian leaned forward.

Why would he call her?

Catherine answered the call anyway and placed it on speaker on the table. Maximilian stared at the phone as if he’d read into Fitzgerald’s brain through the phone.

"Miss Preston..." Fitzgerald’s deep voice vibrated from the phone. "First of all... Congrats on the engagement," he said.

Catherine looked at Maximilian, eyes wide. Only her family knows it. How come that guy knows it already?

"Second of all..." he added. "Be careful. You’re not the only smart one in this world."

Catherine’s heart sank.

Maximilian’s fingers closed around hers, steady and grounding—but the warmth in his touch didn’t reach his eyes.

Those had turned cold. Sharp. Calculating.

The call had already ended.

Silence settled between them, heavy and suffocating.

Catherine swallowed, her thoughts racing, that uneasy feeling from earlier tightening into something real now—something watching, something already moving.

His gaze remained fixed on the phone, as if replaying every word, every pause, every implication.

Then, slowly, he let out a quiet breath.

A smile followed. A dangerous one.

"So," he murmured, voice low, almost thoughtful.

His fingers tightened slightly around hers.

"Rathbourne..."

"Let’s see how long you last."