Chapter 60
But Damian didn’t answer. He just stared at Deborah–her face, flushed with anger moments ago, now pale and drained of color.
“What I mean,” he said at last, his voice low and biting, “is this: if you want the general’s estate to survive, then strip–and get into my bed.”
Whatever desperation had been in Deborah’s eyes instantly vanished. In its place was a sharp, glacial clarity.
She stepped forward–calm, composed–and raised her hand.
Not to unfasten her robes. But to slap him.
Smack! The sound rang through the air, crisp and unforgiving.
Damian’s eyes darkened, his rage slowly rising beneath the surface.
But Deborah didn’t even flinch. With her hand still trembling slightly, she turned and walked away.
“Princess-” Thomas rushed up the moment she stormed out. His face was filled with alarm. “Princess Deborah, wait! His Highness didn’t mean it that way, he just—”
She didn’t slow down. She didn’t even look back. She didn’t want to hear it.
Only after her slender figure had disappeared down the corridor did Thomas dare to step cautiously into the bedchamber.
“Your Highness… with all due respect, that was out of line.”
Damian said nothing.
Thomas looked up—and froze. A vivid handprint burned red across Damian’s cheek.
She’d actually hit him. It wasn’t a dream. She’d slapped the feared and untouchable Damian.
Thomas’s throat tightened. He couldn’t believe what he was seeing. No one had ever laid a hand on Damian before–let alone a woman. And yet…
the mark was real.
“Your Highness,” Thomas said carefully, “the princess doesn’t know. She still cares deeply for Prince Simon. Of course she’d react that way…”
He chose his words with extreme care, watching Damian’s face for any sign of emotion.
But Damian gave nothing away. His eyes were fixed on a shadowed corner of the room, dark and unreadable.
Thomas had no idea what he was thinking.
“Your Highness,” he tried again, gentler this time, “you already pleaded with His Majesty on the general’s estate’s behalf. You’re the one who offered to defend Ploria in Ramiro’s place. Why didn’t you tell her that?”
If Deborah knew that Henry’s so–called “house arrest” had been softened because of Damian… she wouldn’t have left like that. She wouldn’t hate him so deeply.
Thomas felt helpless just watching it unfold.
“Your Highness…”
“Bring me wine,” Damian said flatly.
“But, Your Highness, you can’t handle alcohol-”
The look Damian shot him shut him up instantly. Thomas swallowed hard, bowed, and quietly went to fetch it.
Elsewhere in the garden, Deborah stood silently in a secluded corner, eyes fixed on Skyrift Hall.
Her hands were still trembling. They hadn’t stopped shaking since she left Moonview Manor.
At first, she’d been furious. But now… fear had crept in.
She had slapped Damian.
Damian, who was known for punishing people over the smallest slight. A man whose name alone made people tremble.
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Chapter 60
And yet, he hadn’t retaliated. He’d let her walk out.
She still couldn’t believe it.
“Simon… are you inside? Are you here, in Skyrift Hall?”
“The general’s estate is in trouble. I’ve run out of options. Do you know? Do you care?”
“Why won’t you come see me?”
He’d once promised to protect her for life. But now, when she needed him most… he was nowhere to be found.
It wasn’t that she didn’t understand his silence. She simply couldn’t accept it.
Right now, she needed him. And the truth that cut the deepest? She was disappointed.
After one last glance at Skyrift Hall, she took a deep breath and turned away.
She thought, ‘If no one else would help me, then I’d help myself.
*****
That night, Damian drank heavily.
He didn’t wake until dawn the next day.
It was Thomas who came to wake him. “Your Highness… something’s wrong!”
The usually composed guard was pacing, flustered and panicked. “Your Highness, Princess Deborah is gone!”
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AD
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