Chapter 75: Prince Caleb.

Chapter 75

The man strode toward the table with silent grace. Isabella felt a prickle of recognition; even in this vision, his aura was a cold weight she knew instinctively.

“Ah, the Crown Prince is here,” someone whispered among the lesser lords. Isabella watched as the King spoke. “Prince Caleb,” the King at the head of the table boomed, his voice echoing off the vaulted ceiling. “You are late to your own celebration.”

The newcomer—the Crown Prince—walked with a high head. He didn’t bow as he moved past the lesser lords; in fact, the men seated bowed slightly as he passed.

He took the seat between Lucian and the King, occupying the space closest to the crown. “A King’s business is never finished, Father,” Prince Caleb replied, his voice a low, gravelly resonance that made Isabella’s pulse quicken.

The King stood, raising a golden goblet. The candlelight caught the jagged rubies in his crown.

Isabella’s doppelgänger, who had been following the man, moved forward like a ghost. Her hands trembled as she lifted a crystal bottle, leaning over to fill the King’s glass.

As she moved, Isabella felt the shift in the room’s gravity. Lucian’s gaze, previously frozen in boredom, glanced toward Bella.

His eyes locked onto her frame, tracking her trembling form with an intensity that bordered on hunger than confusion. It gritted at Isabella nerve at young Lucain’s gaze.

Beside him, Caleb didn’t look at the wine being poured. He leaned back, his gaze raking over Bella with a slow, graceful smile that made Isabella’s skin tingle.

Both men were silent, their attention consumed by the servant girl.”The pact is sealed,” the King’s voice boomed as soon as the cup was filled. “Tonight, we toast to the future of our empires. I am proud to announce the union that will bind our blood forever. Princess Selena is to be betrothed to my son, Prince Caleb.”

The hall erupted in applause. Selena’s face transformed into a mask of radiant victory. Isabella’s heart hammered as she watched the scene play out.

Caleb raised his empty chalice, his eyes never leaving Bella’s pale face. “Fill it,” he commanded softly.

Bella moved, her knuckles white as she gripped the bottle. The weight of the room, the King’s announcement, and Caleb’s burning gaze were too much.

As she tilted the crystal, her hand spasmed. The dark red wine didn’t find the cup; it splashed violently across Caleb’s leather tunic and soaked into the white linen tablecloth.

The room went deathly silent.

“You miserable, clumsy wretch!” Princess Selena’s voice shrieked, shattering the stillness.

She threw a table towel at Bella, her face contorting into an ugly mask of rage. “How dare you defile this moment? You are a stain on this house!”

Bella gasped, the bottle slipping from her fingers and shattering on the stone floor. She threw herself to her knees, her hands frantically trying to dab at the wine on Caleb’s lap with the towel.

“I am sorry—my Prince, please—I didn’t—I’m so sorry!” she sobbed, her voice thick with terror.

On the other side of the table, Selena’s father, the visiting King, felt his face harden into a mask of pure fury as he gazed at Bella.

Princess Selena wasn’t done though, she flung a cup to Bella pleading form, hitting Bella head with a sickening sound. “Can you see father, I told you we shouldn’t have brought the half breed with us as my maid!”

Isabella moved forward instinctively, her hand reaching out to pull Bella away from the venom and pain but her fingers passed through the air.

She felt a sickening sense of helplessness. She wanted to scream at Selena to shut up, to tell the Kings it was just wine—but she was a ghost in a memory.

Her head replaying what the fuming princess had just said, Bella? A half breed? Does that mean they were related?

Lucian rose from his chair, his hand twitching toward his own silk kerchief and offer it to Prince Caleb. “It’s just wine, Brother.” He reached down, his large hand closing around Bella’s trembling arm.

Instead of pushing her away, he gently hoisted her up from her kneeling position. ” Do not act as though blood has been spilled.”

Bella looked up at him, her golden eyes swimming with tears. Lucain’s expression softened, his thumb brushing against her wrist for a heartbeat longer than necessary. “Peace, little bird. He has more shirts.”

Selena’s eyes flashed with a murderous jealousy. “Get out!” she hissed at Bella, pointing a shaking finger toward the door.

“Get out of my sight before I have you whipped for your insolence! I don’t want to see your pathetic face again tonight!”

Lucain sharp eyes stabbed princess Selena before he helped Bella out of the room. Isabella was about moving to follow but her leg was rooted as she tried.

She watched as Prince Caleb cold eyes locked on the brat, princess Selena. He turned to the Head King. “Excuse me, Father.”

The moment Prince Caleb stepped away from the table, the invisible weight holding Isabella’s legs snapped.

She didn’t waste a heartbeat. Ignoring the lingering tension of the banquet hall, she sprinted toward the servant’s exit, her gossamer gown billowing around her like a trapped cloud.

“Bella!” she cried out, though she knew the sound was lost to the wind of the past.

She turned a sharp corner into a dimly lit corridor where the air felt damp and cold. Suddenly, a muffled, desperate sound broke the silence—the scuff of boots against stone and a stifled sob.

Isabella skidded around a stone pillar and froze. Her stomach did a sickening flip.

There, shoved against the rough masonry, was Bella.

Lucian—the younger, predatory version of the man she knew—had her pinned. His hand was clamped over her mouth to silence her cries, while his other hand gripped the bodice of her drab maid’s dress.

He wasn’t the “protector” who had helped her up moments ago; he was a wolf who had found a cornered lamb.

“Shh, little bird,” Lucian murmured, his voice a dark, terrifying caress. “You shouldn’t have been so clumsy. Now you owe a debt, don’t you? Let me see what’s hidden beneath these rags.”

Bella’s eyes were wide with a frantic, soul-crushing terror. She fought him with every ounce of her strength, her small hands clawing at his wrists, her muffled screams vibrating against his palm.

Isabella watched, her heart shattering. This was the man she saw moments ago, guiding Bella out with softness.

This Lucian was a monster, a privileged prince who saw a woman as nothing more than a toy to be broken.

He didn’t help her to save her; he helped her so he could be the one to ruin her.

“Get your hands off her, Lucian.” The voice was like a blade of ice cutting through the dark.

Lucian stiffened.

He slowly turned his head to see Prince Caleb standing at the end of the hall. The Crown Prince looked different now—the “charming” mask was gone, replaced by a cold, murderous stillness.

His leather tunic was still stained with wine, but he looked like a god of war. Lucian didn’t let go. He let out a sharp, mocking laugh. “Mind your business, Brother. Don’t you have a betrothed to go find? That bratty princess is probably counting her pearls. Why do you care about a little half-breed maid? I just want to have a taste.”

Bella’s muffled whimpers grew louder as she clutched the fabric of her dress with white-knuckled determination, her eyes pleading with Caleb.

Caleb took a step forward, the sound of his boot echoing like a death knell. “I will not tell you again. Release her.”

“And if I don’t?” Lucian challenged, his eyes flashing with a dangerous arrogance. “She’s a servant, Caleb. She belongs to the crown. She is nothing.”

“She is not from our kingdom,” Caleb hissed, his hand dropping to the hilt of the sword at his hip. “And you of all people know she might be a half breed but she carries the blood of their current king.”

“And a maid.” Lucain countered.

The air between them crackled with a dark, ancient power. Isabella watched, breathless, as the two brothers locked eyes.

Her head spiraling around all the new information. Bella is was an illegitimate child of the king, Selena’s father but it was from a maid?

“You are testing the limits of my mercy. You don’t want to see what happens when I stop acting like a brother.” Caleb hissed and Lucian saw something in Caleb’s gaze—a ruthlessness that even he wasn’t ready to face.

With a low, bitter snarl, Lucian shoved Bella away. She stumbled, nearly hitting the floor before she scrambled back, clutching her torn collar to her chest.

“Fine,” Lucian spat, straightening his tunic.

“Keep your broken things, Caleb. She’s probably more trouble than she’s worth anyway.” He cast one last, lingering look of disgust at Bella before turning on his heel and disappearing into the shadows of the castle.

Isabella stood trembling, her gaze fixed on Bella’s shaking form. The relief she felt was overshadowed by a deep, aching unease.

She looked at Caleb, expecting him to walk away, but he didn’t. He slowly walked over to Bella trembling form.

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