Edmond did not answer immediately. The question hung there, quiet but heavy, pressing into the space between them. Robert watched him closely now, the earlier ease gone from his face, replaced with something tighter. Something alert.
"Is she well?" Robert asked again, this time more carefully.
Edmond nodded once. "Her health is perfect." That should have settled it. But it didn't.
Robert's brows pulled together, his gaze narrowing slightly as he studied him, searching for whatever was being held back. "What then is the matter?" he pressed. "Why didn't she come with you?"
Edmond drew in a slow breath..For a moment, it seemed like he might speak. But instead, he stepped back, and then lowered himself to his knees. The movement was sudden, and final.
Robert's chest tightened at once, something sharp rising in him before the words even came. "You are putting me in a panic mood," he said, his voice no longer steady. "Speak."
Edmond's eyes dropped to the ground. For a second, he said nothing. Then the words came, slow and heavy, like stones being laid one after another.
"My sister has sinned against you." The air shifted. "She has broken the vow she swore to you, on the day of your engagement."
Silence followed. Not the quiet kind. The kind that builds pressure.
Robert stared at him, the meaning not settling at once, as though his mind refused to move in that direction. "What are you talking about?" he asked, but there was already strain in his voice.
Edmond exhaled. It came out rough. "She has slept with another man."
The words struck. Not like sound. Like impact. Robert's body reacted before his thoughts could catch up. His jaw tightened, his eyes sharpening instantly, something violent flashing through them as his fists clenched at his sides.
For a moment, he turned away. Just a step. Then another. And suddenly his hand slammed into the wall beside him.
The sound echoed sharply through the chamber. He hit it again.
Harder.
Then the strength seemed to leave him all at once. His legs gave out, and he dropped to the ground, the breath tearing out of him as his body folded in on itself.
A broken sound followed. Not anger. Not at first.
Pain.
"Why?" he choked, his voice cracking under the weight of it. "Was I not loving enough?" The question lingered, fragile in a way that did not match the man who had stood crowned only hours before.
He coughed, harsh and uneven, his shoulders shaking as he struggled to pull himself together, but the control he was known for was slipping through his fingers.
"I am sorry," Edmond said quietly, still on his knees.
"I have always believed she was perfect," he continued, his voice low, carrying both disappointment and something deeper. "A woman who understood duty above all things."
He paused. "But she turned out not to understand anything at all."
Something shifted in Robert then..The trembling slowed. The sound of his breathing steadied, though not completely.
He went still. Then, slowly, he pushed himself up. When he stood, there was something different in his eyes.
The pain had not disappeared. It had changed. "Who is that man?" he asked.
The question came sharp.
Controlled.
But beneath it, something waited. Edmond lifted his head. Their eyes met. And in that moment, he saw it clearly.
The fury. Raw. Focused. Waiting for a direction.
"Your Grace," Edmond began, hesitation creeping into his voice.
"Give me the name!" Robert barked suddenly, the control snapping for just a second. "And I will cut off his cock."
The words echoed harshly, filling the room with something dangerous. Edmond rose to his feet slowly.mThere was no avoiding it now..He met Robert's gaze directly. "Drexo Dragarian."
The name landed like a storm breaking.
Robert did not move at first. Then it hit him.
Fully.
His expression shattered. Whatever strength had returned to him vanished again, his legs giving way as he collapsed once more, this time harder, as though the ground had been pulled from beneath him.
The silence that followed stretched long and heavy. Then something unexpected happened. The fury began to fade.
Not entirely. But enough. "I guess," Robert said slowly, his voice quieter now, almost distant, "she is not to be blamed after all."
Edmond's brows furrowed immediately. "What do you mean?"
Robert pushed himself up again, though this time more slowly. His movements lacked the earlier force, replaced now with something more measured.
"We left her alone," he said, pacing slightly, his thoughts reshaping themselves as he spoke. "We left her to wander the palace, and allowed her to fall into the hands of a man like him."
He stopped, turning back to Edmond. "My cousin," he continued, his tone steady but edged, "has a reputation. Drexo does not chase women. He draws them in."
There was something bitter in the way he said it. "He has charmed women far stronger than Maria."
Edmond's expression hardened instantly. "Maria is not just a woman," he snapped.
Robert shook his head slowly. "She is," he said. "And it is time we acknowledge that."
His voice did not rise. But it carried weight. "No matter how strong she is in battle, she is still a woman. And she should have been protected as one."
Edmond exhaled, tension pulling through him. "She is at your mercy," he said. "I beg for your forgiveness."
Robert looked at him for a long moment. Then he shook his head. "No," he said quietly. "I am the one who needs her forgiveness."
That answer hung strangely in the air. "I should never have left her to walk freely," he added, his tone tightening again.
Then his eyes hardened. This time, the anger returned.
Clear, and focused. But no longer scattered. "Drexo is the culprit," he said, each word precise. "And soon, we will place his head on a spike."
There was no doubt in it. "And we will cut it off."
Edmond nodded slowly. The direction had been chosen. The target has been set.
"What do we do now?" he asked.
Robert's hand rose to his chin, his gaze drifting for a moment as he considered it. Then he spoke. "The girl has already known a man," he said. "That cannot be undone."
He looked back at Edmond. "Return home." His voice steadied further, settling into something almost ceremonial.
"I will come to Snowland myself," he continued, "and perform the rites necessary to bring her to me."
There was finality in that. Not forgiveness. Not punishment. But something in between.
Edmond nodded. "I will leave at once."
That evening, the harbor stirred once again. Ships were prepared under the fading light, sails drawn tight as the last glow of the sun stretched across the water. The celebration in the city still lingered behind them, faint music and distant laughter drifting toward the shore.
But none of it followed Edmond. He stood at the edge of the dock, surrounded by Northern lords and warriors, their expressions set, their movements disciplined as they boarded.
Orders were given. Lines released. The ships began to move.
Slow at first, then steady. Kings' City pulled away behind them, its lights beginning to flicker against the darkening sky.
Edmond stood at the stern this time.
Watching.
Not the horizon ahead. But the city they were leaving behind. His face gave nothing away. But his silence carried everything.