Sold To The Cruel Prince

Chapter 156: The Fall

Rosalyn stared at Theron as though she could not quite believe what she was seeing. He had protected the woman who had humiliated her, the woman who had trampled on her pride in front of everyone, the woman who had made her feel small in a room where she was supposed to be the one in control.

That realization burned hotter than the fire that had shot into the ceiling. It was not just betrayal. It felt like a public wound.

Aveline, however, did not seem troubled in the least.

To her, it was simply Theron being Theron.

He had always been like this, had he not? Always appearing at the right time, always stepping in before danger could touch her too deeply, always standing between her and whatever threatened her life.

This was not the first time he had protected her, and it probably would not be the last. And if one day she became stronger, then perhaps she would be the one to stand in front of him instead.

She looked at Rosalyn, still trembling with fury, and felt nothing.

The girl looked like she could set the room ablaze with anger alone, but Aveline could not have cared less.

Why should she? She had Theron. That was enough.

With a faint smile, she turned to leave. It was not even a difficult decision. Her gaze brushed over Theron for a brief moment, and for some reason he looked strange to her, almost distant in a way she could not immediately name. But she dismissed it just as quickly as she noticed it.

He always did odd things when he wanted to keep his secrets buried. That was his problem, not hers. She did not need to unravel every strange thing about him today.

He had not changed.

When she truly needed him, he would still be there, just as he always had been, standing at her side and protecting her in his quiet, maddening way.

But before she could take another step, Lucien Caelvaris suddenly shouted from behind her.

"Stop!"

His voice cracked across the laboratory with such force that even the lingering smoke seemed to tremble. He took a step forward, his mind racing faster than his body could follow.

He had not had time to check every stone in the arrangement, only a handful of them, but the few he had examined had all been correct. The pattern was not random. It had been arranged according to frequency, precisely, deliberately, and yet this girl had somehow remembered not only the order he had set but the exact placement of each scattered stone as well.

How could anyone remember the shape of each stone with that much precision?

What kind of memory did she possess?

And how had she restored the arrangement so perfectly, as though she had looked at the chaos and seen the original design in her mind all along?

He wanted to ask her everything.

Aveline turned her head just enough to glance at him, then scoffed.

"Why would I tell you, old man?" she asked, her tone dry with contempt, and without waiting for a response, she walked on.

"Old man?"

Rosalyn’s temper flared so sharply it nearly choked her.

Her grandfather was the dean of Arcanum, the greatest fire-bender in the kingdom, and the Archduke besides. He was a man who bent no knee to anyone, a man whose name alone demanded respect.

And yet... this random nobody had just called him an old man as if he were some wrinkled soup-stall vendor standing at the edge of the street.

Rosalyn could not bear it.

Aveline glanced back at her, clearly not taking her outrage seriously, and continued walking as if neither Rosalyn’s fury nor Lucien’s demand mattered in the slightest.

That only made Rosalyn angrier. ƒгeeweɓn૦vel.com

She moved forward at once, wanting to stop her, wanting to end this ridiculous humiliation today before it could grow any worse.

Only one of them should be standing at the end of this day, Rosalyn told herself, and she did not care which one was left breathing as long as it was not both of them. She could not share a space with this woman another second. Aveline’s very existence was an insult.

Lucien struck his hip against the corner of a table as he rushed after her, but even that did not slow him for long. He limped, but he kept moving, his focus fixed entirely on Aveline.

"Tell me how you did it!" he shouted, still chasing after her with a determination that bordered on desperation.

Aveline lifted one hand in a dismissive wave without even turning around fully.

"Why should I tell you, old man?" she said again, placing deliberate emphasis on the last two words as though she enjoyed them.

If that could make the woman behind her explode from sheer anger, then she would gladly say it again.

"Are you going to kill me now?" Aveline asked lightly, as though she were discussing the weather instead of provoking a roomful of people.

Lucien clutched at his aching hip, his face tightening with pain, but he kept limping after her anyway. He did not know whether he would ever find her again if he let her leave now, and more than anything else, he wanted to know. He needed to know.

"As if that little fire would have killed you," he said, still hurrying after her, his voice rough with pain and stubborn curiosity.

And that, more than anything else, made Aveline pause for the briefest moment of thought.

Did this old man know something about her powers? Was he testing her the way others sometimes did, hiding questions inside arrogance and waiting to see what she would reveal?

Before she could decide, both Rosalyn and Lucien were straining to reach the doorway at nearly the same time, each determined to stop her, each too caught up in their own urgency to notice the other.

Neither yielded.

The result was inevitable.

Rosalyn collided shoulder-first into her grandfather.

Lucien let out an indignant grunt.

Rosalyn lost her balance instantly.

Her feet slipped beneath her as she stumbled backward.

Theron happened to be standing directly behind her.

For a split second, Rosalyn felt relief.

Surely he would catch her.

It was the obvious thing to do.

The normal thing.

The gentlemanly thing.

The thing any fiancé would do.

Theron watched her stagger... Considered the situation... And then did the most natural thing that came to mind.

He stepped aside.

Rosalyn dropped straight to the floor.

Hard.

The impact echoed embarrassingly through the corridor.