The following days passed in a blut of arrangements in preparation for our upcoming wedding and the welcoming of Rafael, which was barely acknowledged because everyone was focused on his recovery and the other pressing issues at hand. It was, after all, a shock.
With that being said, the entire palace, especially Deacon’s wing, was buzzing with countless activities that even I wasn’t able to keep up with. Every direction my head turns, I’d see busy staff going around all day.
For instance, there were florists measuring spaces and offering different designs to choose from, managers pacing around with lists and instructing people on various tasks, and even messengers were busy running errands all day.
Nonetheless, despite the constant visibility of how busy the place was, my heart kept feeling warm as the fruit of all these was Deacon’s promises slowly coming into life.
But in the midst of all the planning, a new whisper reached me. One which I hadn’t expected.
It came from a passing conversation with one of the palace guards. I had been walking down the corridor, Rafael skipping a few steps ahead with a maid carrying his books, when I overheard two men speaking in low voices.
“Can you believe it? Prince Deacon has stepped down as a General. Voluntarily.”
“Yeah. The King himself confirmed it yesterday. A shock to all of us.”
I froze at my place; the words struck me like ice. Deacon? Stepped down?
I can’t be hearing that right, did I?
The guards fell silent when they saw me, bowing hastily before retreating in panic. I didn’t call them back. Well, I couldn’t.
My chest tightened with too many questions as I continued down the hall.
That night, once Rafael had been settled into bed and the palace grew quiet, I sought Deacon in his study.
I knocked on his door and opened it slowly, peaking inside. He was at his desk, the paper weight Rafael had given him resting on his desk with the piles of reports he was busy reviewing.
Feeling my presence, he looked from what he was reading, and the crease between his brows instantly smoothed, a smile spreading on his lips.
“Elena, miss me?” he asked, teasing, radiating his lips.
Any other day, I’d play along and tease him back, probably even give him a hug or two, but my mind was so clouded right now that all I could think about was what I heard among the soldiers earlier..
“You resigned,” I uttered in seriousness.
His eyes remained calm as always, though the flicker in his eyes told me he knew this conversation would come. “So you heard,” he replied, sighing.
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My arms crossed instinctively, suspicion coiling in my gut. “You are the god of war, the best general of this kingdom. You’re not just the prince, you’re the king’s shield and his sword. Why step down now, of all times?”
Deacon placed down the paper he was holding, leaned back in his chair, unhurried. “Because it was time.”
I narrowed my eyes. “Time? Or convenient? Tell me the truth, Deacon. Did you marry me because the King feared you? Did he force your hand because your military clout and my rank together made you too dangerous?”
The words split sharper than I intended, but the thought had been gnawing at me since I heard the news. Deacon had always stood tall, unmatched on the battlefield, respected and feared in equal measure. Combined with me, my bloodline, my claim… it was easy to imagine King Desmond worrying about the balance of power.
Deacon’s gaze darkened, his voice low and steady. “Elena.”
But I pressed on, unable to stop rumbling with all the worries and thoughts coming into my head. “Think of it… Your influence with the armies, your command over thousands, and now you marry me, the rightful heir of my pack. Together, we could rival even the King’s authority. Perhaps he thought binding you to me was safer than opposing you. Perhaps-”
“Enough.”
The word cut like steel and silence wrapped around us. It’s a well known fact even before but we never really talked about it in detailed.
Deacon stood, his presence filling the room, his eyes locked on mine with unyielding intensity. “You insult me by suggesting my hand was forced. I have never been anyone’s pawn. Not my brother’s, not the council’s.”
I swallowed, but my doubts clung stubbornly. “Then why resign? Why now, when you hold more power than ever?”
He moved closer, each step deliberate until he stood just before me. His hand rose, not in anger but in quiet emphasis, as his fingers brushed my cheek. “Because power breeds suspicion. My brother has always trusted me, but even trust can bend under the weight of politics. I saw it in his eyes… the calculation, the wariness. We can only stood side–by–side if we don’t have doubts with each other. We are brothers, and power and such won’t and should never be enough to divide us.”
I blinked, startled. “You… stepped down voluntarily?”
“Yes.” His gaze softened, though his voice carried no regret. “I resigned before his doubt could fester. I will not be the shadow looming behind his throne, nor the whisper in the council’s ears. He is King, and I am his brother. That is enough.”
My breath caught. The certainty, the calm in his tone… it was so very Deacon. Yet my heart still ached. “Then…. why me? Why our marriage?”
For the first time, a faint smile tugged at his lips. “Because it was the best match, politically and otherwise. You are strong, Elena. Respected. We might be together because of some reasons, but know that majority of it was because it’s what I chose.”
I stared at him, torn between relief and disbelief. “So it wasn’t a concession.”
“No.” His thumb traced lightly along my jaw. “It was my decision. Every step of it.”
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I exhaled, starting to feel at ease.
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