Phoebe’s POV
"I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have acted like that..." Jude whispered, her voice barely audible as shame and terror consumed her. She dropped to her knees before me. "I overreacted and I’m truly sorry," she said, regret heavy in her tone.
The concept still seemed foreign to her—the way Perry and I could tease each other so freely. She’d never witnessed a man and woman interact with such playful banter. In her experience, when they struck, it was with brutal force. No humor existed in those exchanges.
Our casual dynamic clearly caught her off guard.
"I’m sorry," Jude repeated, the words tumbling out again.
Watching Jude’s terror, Timothy rushed to her side, urging her to rise. "It’s alright, you’ll adjust to it. Please, stand up."
I felt a sharp pang seeing Jude’s distress. The wounds left by this kingdom’s men ran deeper than I’d imagined, scarring these women’s souls.
"It’s fine, Jude." I knelt beside her, gently encouraging her to get up.
But my gesture only made things worse. She immediately pressed herself lower, instinct driving her down. "Forgive me, my queen." Her voice cracked with panic—she was terrified that I had lowered myself.
"No, please don’t do this." I helped her settle back into a sitting position.
To her shock, I wrapped my arms around her. "My queen, this..." Jude froze, completely lost. Should she return the embrace? Would refusing offend me? The uncertainty paralyzed her.
"Timothy, I need you to leave us alone. There’s something I must discuss with her." My tone stayed measured, yet carried unmistakable authority—a direct command that he, as royal gamma, couldn’t refuse.
Conflict flashed across Timothy’s features as he glanced at Jude, whose eyes begged him not to abandon her. Then he seemed to remember the favor he’d asked of me earlier. Perhaps this was the moment...
Guilt clouded his expression, but he recognized that leaving us alone was necessary. After this, he would have to trust me completely.
’Sorry,’ he mouthed silently before standing and walking away.
Jude’s fear intensified now that we were alone, especially with me still holding her.
I had to pause. The dam inside me had burst, releasing waves of rage, anger, and that familiar helplessness.
Even without seeing Jude’s face, I could feel how rigid she’d become as she absorbed my words.
"I won’t claim my suffering was worse than yours. No. I couldn’t survive what you’ve endured. You showed incredible strength staying alive for your daughter, but don’t you think you deserve happiness too?" I tightened my hold on Jude, though now I was the one who needed this comfort.
I wanted to share more, but the words wouldn’t come. My chest constricted and my throat went dry.
"What I’m trying to say is—I understand fear, helplessness, and how terrifying hope can be. I’m afraid that if I let someone in, they’ll destroy me completely, breaking me beyond repair. Sometimes hope feels more dangerous than the threat itself."
Jude began to weep, her chest heaving with each sob, because I’d voiced exactly what lived in her heart. She was terrified of accepting Timothy, afraid of letting him see inside her because she believed what he’d find was ugly. She feared he would leave...
"But I promise you, Jude—Timothy will bring you happiness. He’ll make both of you happy. You have my word on that."

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