Chapter 131: Her Doubt

On the drive back, Maximilian kept watching Catherine from the corner of his eye. He didn’t need words to know she was hurting; he could feel it somewhere deep in his chest, a dull echo of her pain. The silence between them felt wrong, heavy with things neither of them were saying.

He leaned slightly closer, intending to speak. He wanted to break that silence, to erase the shadow of doubt he could see lingering on her face.

“Uncle Joey, crank it up. I love this song,” Catherine suddenly said to the driver.

Maximilian recognized the gentle dismissal immediately. She didn’t want to talk to him right now. Still, he leaned closer again, unwilling to let the moment slip away so easily.

But the music filled the car before he could speak.

“That’s the night that the lights went out in Georgia…”

Catherine began singing along almost immediately, her voice soft at first, then louder.

“That’s the night that they hung an innocent man…”

Maximilian pressed his lips together and leaned back in his seat.

She had built a wall again.

“…don’t trust your soul to no backwoods Southern lawyer… ’cause the judge in the town’s got bloodstains on his hands…”

Catherine closed her eyes as she sang, snapping her fingers to the rhythm and clapping along with the beat. Her smile grew wider with every verse, bright and carefree. Joey chuckled from the front seat, clearly enjoying the performance.

“This song always makes everyone feel better,” Joey said warmly. “Especially the Reba McEntire version.”

Catherine laughed.

Maximilian simply watched her. She might have fooled their old family driver, but she hadn’t fooled him. The bright laughter, the exaggerated enthusiasm… it was armor. She was throwing up defenses and pretending she was fine.

He let the music play without interrupting. The song itself was more like a story than a melody, and though he wasn’t particularly familiar with country music, the rhythm pulled him in.

Near the end of the song, he leaned closer again.

“It was the sister all along?” he asked thoughtfully. “She killed them both?”

Catherine turned to him immediately, eyebrows lifting in surprise.

“You don’t know this song?” she asked.

Another country song began playing before he could answer, another story unfolding through music. Maximilian found himself unexpectedly intrigued, and instead of returning to the painful conversation from earlier, he simply asked questions about the lyrics.

Catherine answered, explaining parts of the story, correcting his guesses, even laughing once or twice when he misunderstood something. They talked only about the songs—nothing deeper, nothing dangerous.

By the time the car rolled through the gates of their compound, Catherine almost seemed normal again. The tightness that had gripped Maximilian’s chest earlier had eased slightly.

Maybe she simply needed space.

“Drop me at Bobby’s, Uncle Joey,” Catherine said casually.

The old driver tipped his hat with a fond smile.

“As you wish, Missy.”

The moment the car stopped in the driveway, Catherine rushed out before anyone could say a word.

Maximilian barely had time to step out before she was already halfway to the house. He paused for a moment, taking in the estate. Until now, he had assumed every house in Catherine’s world resembled her Victorian country home. But Bobby’s mansion was completely different—French country in style, sprawling and sunlit, with pale stone walls, ivy creeping along the columns, and tall windows reflecting the afternoon light.

By the time Maximilian’s boots crunched against the gravel path, Catherine had already disappeared inside.

“Sophia! I came for lunch!” her voice rang from the doorway.

Maximilian stepped inside just in time to see her dart across the hall like a whirlwind. She moved through the house with careless familiarity, half running, half skipping, her laughter echoing through the rooms.

For a moment, he froze.

The sight stirred a memory he had not expected.

Katerina, years ago, in another lifetime, running through palace corridors with the same reckless energy, skirts gathered in her hands as she laughed at him. She had been lively then. Untamed. Bright in a way that filled the entire space around her.

Maximilian had not seen that girl in a very long time.

Back At Meridon, Catherine was always composed—elegant, controlled, a woman who measured every word and gesture.

But here…

Here she looked like herself.

He smiled faintly.

This place was truly her home.

Sophia appeared soon after, first bringing out a tray of sandwiches. But within half an hour, the table was overflowing.

He assumed Sophia would leave after setting the table.

She didn’t.

Instead, Catherine flopped onto the couch with the ease of someone who had done it a thousand times before. Sophia sat beside her, and the two began chatting about things Maximilian could barely follow: neighbors, family gossip…

Minutes passed.

Then more minutes.

Maximilian remained standing awkwardly near the table before finally lowering himself into a chair.

Now he was bored.

And worse… he felt strangely abandoned.

Did she forget about me?

Did she forget I cannot leave her side?

And that I might feel… somewhat out of place here?

He cleared his throat once, hoping she might glance his way. She didn’t. Catherine was laughing at something Sophia said, utterly absorbed.

Maximilian folded his arms.

This was ridiculous.

Just as he began wondering whether he should simply wait outside, the front door opened again.

A boy wandered in, tossing a backpack onto the nearest chair. He looked about fourteen, with messy hair and a restless energy that suggested he had never willingly sat still for more than ten minutes.

“Josh!” Sophia called.

Joshua nodded vaguely, then plopped onto another couch. Within minutes he began talking—mostly to himself, but loudly enough that everyone could hear—about video games. Maximilian listened for a while, increasingly confused.

Now he truly felt like a fish out of water.

Just when he thought he might drown in this strange conversation, Catherine suddenly appeared beside them.

He hadn’t even noticed her getting up.

“That game you say no one can beat you in?” she said casually, leaning against the back of Joshua’s chair. “The one with the Vikings—the strategy one where you build your kingdom?”

Joshua’s eyes lit up immediately.

“Yeah. No one beats me.”

Catherine smiled mischievously.

“The one I beat you in,” she added sweetly.

Joshua scowled. “That was one time.”

“Sure it was.” She gestured toward Maximilian. “Play it with him. I bet he’ll beat you too.”

Joshua looked up slowly. His gaze moved from Catherine to Maximilian, skepticism written all over his face.

“This guy?” he said bluntly. “The history professor?”

Maximilian raised an eyebrow.

Joshua grinned in that cocky, fearless way teenagers often had. “No offense, sir, but this game needs actual strategy.”

Catherine’s lips twitched with suppressed laughter.

Maximilian sighed and took the console Joshua handed him.

The screen lit up with a sprawling map of snowy lands, longships, and scattered Viking settlements.

At first, Maximilian struggled. The controls were unfamiliar, the menus crowded with strange icons and abbreviations. Joshua leaned over his shoulder with a smug grin.

“See? Told you.”

But slowly…

Maximilian began to understand.

The game wasn’t about speed or reflexes. It was about positioning, resources, alliances, and timing attacks.

Strategy.

The same principles that governed war.

Within fifteen minutes, Maximilian’s forces had reorganized their supply routes. Within twenty, he had secured three additional territories Joshua had ignored in favor of flashy battles.

Joshua stopped talking.

By thirty minutes, Maximilian’s armies quietly surrounded Joshua’s capital.

Joshua leaned forward, eyes narrowing.

“…wait.”

Maximilian said nothing.

A few moves later, Joshua’s kingdom collapsed. The screen flashed victory. Joshua stared at it in stunned silence. Then he slowly turned toward Maximilian.

“You… cheated.”

Maximilian folded his arms calmly. “I assure you, I did not.”

Catherine burst out laughing behind them, and she felt something twist in her chest.

Maximilian was a brilliant strategist. That much was undeniable.

Yet the Maximilian Charlotte had described…

That man was nothing like the one sitting in front of her. Charlotte had described him as a foolish, emotional ruler — a man who ruined empires chasing one woman. A man blinded by his feelings, someone with tunnel vision who made reckless decisions.

But this Maximilian… It didn’t fit.

Her gaze lingered on him a little longer than she realized.

Maximilian…

What is the truth?

Her fingers slowly curled around her arms.

Can I trust you?

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