Chapter 88: A Solemn Promise and Fractured Memories

Sebastian studied her carefully. The color had drained from Bernice’s face, leaving her pale and unsteady, her eyes a little unfocused as if the world had shifted under her feet.

He reached for her hand and drew a little closer, not because the instinct to pull her into him wasn’t there (it was, fiercely so), but because he knew her eyesight was poor. He wanted her to see him clearly, to read the truth in his expression without doubt or distance.

“Bernice,” he said softly, his thumb brushing over her cheek in a slow, grounding gesture. “The moment I laid my eyes on you, I knew you were the answer to a prayer I didn’t even know I had.” His voice lowered, steady and certain. “I’m not giving up on you… unless you hate me from the bottom of your heart.”

He leaned in and pressed a lingering kiss to her forehead—gentle, reverent, the kind of tenderness Bernice had rarely been given in her life.

“I know there’s a chasm between us,” he continued, his voice quiet but unwavering. “I know society won’t make this easy. But if you’re willing to walk this road with me, I’ll stand beside you. I’ll protect you, support you, guide you… whatever you need. I won’t let you face it alone. So…”

“Why?” Bernice whispered, her hands trembling as they tightened around the sheets. Those words he had spoken… no one had ever given her anything so beautiful. He hadn’t even said the word love, and yet it filled every syllable he spoke.

Why would he choose her?

“Why?” Sebastian echoed, startled. To him, the answer felt obvious. It was inevitable.

“You almost killed me the day we met,” she said, her voice wavering. He had tied her to a chair and interrogated her like an enemy. If Catherine hadn’t intervened… would he have stopped?

A quiet chuckle escaped him, low and almost rueful. “If I truly wanted you dead, no one could have changed my mind,” he admitted, leaning closer, his gaze softening as it met hers. “Max once told me something… that maybe some people meet again across lifetimes.” He brushed a stray strand of hair from her face. “So if that’s true… then let this life be my chance to repay whatever you once gave me. Let’s just… be happy together.”

Her lips trembled. She wanted to dismiss his words as something poetic, something said in the heat of the moment, but the truth was, she felt it too. That strange, quiet familiarity, as if her soul had recognized him long before her mind had caught up.

And what would he gain by lying to her now? If it were only her body he wanted, he could have had anyone. Yet here he was, speaking to her like she was the only choice he would ever make.

Still… reality tugged at her again: her family, her situation, the weight she carried.

“I’ll only bring trouble to you,” she whispered.

“And I love solving trouble,” he replied lightly, the corner of his lips lifting with quiet confidence.

Something inside her broke then, not in pain, but in release. She let go of the sheets and threw her arms around him, burying her face against his chest as her tears finally came. The sobs rose up before she could stop them, raw and overwhelming.

How could she deserve something like this?

Sebastian held her close without hesitation, his arms wrapping around her with a natural ease, as if she had always belonged there. She fit perfectly against him, like a missing piece he hadn’t known he’d lost.

He said nothing, simply letting her cry, letting her lean on him, giving her the space to feel everything she had been holding back.

Whatever came next, whatever storms waited for them, he would stand through all of it with her.

—–

Catherine lay still beneath the covers, eyes closed, breathing slowly, pretending to sleep long after she knew it would not come.

She had meant it when she said never.

She always meant it.

And yet… this time, something inside her felt unsettled. As though she had stood at a crossroads again and, in her certainty, chosen the wrong path.

The word never echoed in her chest.

It had tasted right when she said it. Why did it feel wrong now?

She could still feel the warmth of his tears on her hands. The memory refused to fade.

Why had he broken their engagement in such a cruel way if he didn’t want to do it?

She forced herself to retrace that time in her mind, step by step, searching for what she might have missed. One part of her argued that it didn’t matter. She didn’t need answers. She could shut him out forever and move on with her life.

It would be easier.

Cleaner.

But her fingers tightened around the bracelet at her wrist.

The metal pressed cool and unyielding against her skin, as though reminding her of something she could not yet see.

She needed to know.

For herself.

And perhaps, selfishly, so she could finally remove the bracelet without guilt. For once, her own desire for truth aligned with the strange pull she felt from it.

Eventually, exhaustion dragged her under. And she returned to the dream.

*

The sky was wrong.

A deep, unnatural purple stretched above her, while the earth beneath was an eerie green. Rain fell steadily, soaking everything in a cold, endless curtain. This time, she wasn’t standing.

She was lying down.

Watching the rain fall.

Pain split her head open from the inside, sharp and blinding. Her body felt distant, heavy, unresponsive.

And he was there.

Maximilian.

He was shielding her from the rain, his body curved over hers. Her head rested on something warm and solid—his thigh.

Breathing was hard. Each inhale scraped against her lungs.

She lifted her hand. It was covered in blood.

“Go save yourself, Maximilian…” she heard herself say.

The words hurt more than the pain in her body.

Not because she hated him. Because she cared.

He shook his head.

“I go with you.”

There was no anger in his expression. No regret. No hatred.

He was smiling.

But were those raindrops sliding down his face… Or tears?

Her trembling hand reached for him, blood staining his skin as her fingers brushed his cheek. Her heart clenched painfully in her chest.

“Go… live…” she begged.

Again, he shook his head.

The ache inside her grew unbearable, an ache she had only felt once before… The day she lost her son.

“Then do this for me…” she whispered.

*

The memory fractured there.

Her head throbbed violently. Just moments before in that same dream, she had been holding a dagger, consumed by rage, ready to kill him and die by his sword.

But this…

This felt different.

Why does this feel like I care for him? As if I had… forgiven him for everything?

And what did I ask of him?

The edges of the dream blurred. The emotions remained, but the details slipped away like water through her fingers.

She could not even trust her own memories anymore.

Catherine’s eyes opened slowly.

Dawn had settled into the room, a dull light seeping through the curtains. The air had turned cold.

She rolled onto her side…and nearly cried out.

Maximilian was there.

Curled slightly on top of the covers, outside the duvet as though he did not dare to share its warmth, facing her. Close enough that she could feel the faint heat of his body. Close enough that, for one disorienting second, it felt as if nothing had ever happened between them.

As if he had never left. As if life happened perfectly.

Her first instinct was anger.

She should hate him. She had every reason to. He had lied. He had hidden things from her. He had made choices that shattered her trust.

She should push him away.

She should turn her back.

She should not look at him at all.

And yet… she couldn’t.

Her gaze lingered on his face, softened by sleep. The sharp lines of his expression were gentler now, stripped of pride and guarded restraint. But even in rest, his brows were drawn together, a faint crease cutting between them… as if whatever haunted him refused to loosen its grip.

Without thinking, her hand lifted.

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