enjoyebooks CHAPTER 134
CHAPTER 134
POV: Mark
It starts with a look.
Not a shout. Not a shove. Just a look Adrian gives me across the corridor outside the south gallery—tight, controlled, warning. The kind he’s been practicing his whole life.
I ignore it.
“You’re late,” he says.
“I wasn’t summoned,” I reply.
“We were supposed to meet Mother,” he answers.
“I know,” I say. “I was busy.”
“With what?” he asks, too quickly.
I smile, sharp and deliberate. “Living.”
His jaw tightens. “This isn’t funny.”
“No,” I agree. “It’s not.”
We walk in silence for a few steps. Servants pass, heads lowered. The palace hums around us, unaware that something thin and dangerous is stretching between my brother and me.
“You talked to her again,” Adrian says.
I stop. “What?”
“Lysa,” he continues. “You found her after the festival.”
“That’s not your business,” I reply.
“It became my business when you decided to make it a competition,” he snaps.
I laugh. “You didn’t mind competing.”
“I didn’t start it,” he says.
“Neither did I,” I shoot back. “She’s a person, Adrian. Not a prize.”
“And yet you’re acting like one of us has to win,” he replies.
I step closer. “What do you want from me?”
“I want you to stop,” he says. “Before this ruins everything.”
“Everything?” I repeat. “Or just your image of it?”
He stiffens. “Don’t twist my words.”
“Then don’t twist my intentions,” I say. “You don’t get to claim moral ground just because you’re quieter.”
“That’s not—”
“You think because you feel things privately, they count more?” I interrupt. “At least I don’t pretend.”
His voice drops. “You think this is pretending?”
“I think you’re scared,” I say.
“And I think you’re reckless,” he fires back.
The words crack something open.
“Say it again,” I tell him.
He exhales sharply. “You’re reckless.”
I shove him.
Not hard. Not enough to hurt.
Enough to cross a line.
He stumbles back a step, shock flashing across his face before discipline slams down.
“Don’t touch me,” he says.
“You don’t get to tell me what to do,” I reply.
He steps forward. “This isn’t you.”
“This is exactly me,” I snap. “You just never liked it.”
We’re chest to chest now. Breathing hard. The air tight.
“You always do this,” he says. “You push until something breaks.”
“And you always wait for someone else to fix it,” I reply. “Usually Father.”
The name hangs between us like a threat.
Adrian’s fist tightens.
“Don’t,” I say.
“You already did,” he replies.
He shoves me back.
Harder.
I hit the wall behind me, breath knocked out of my lungs. Anger explodes white-hot, drowning out reason. I swing. I don’t even aim.
My fist catches his shoulder, glancing but solid. He grunts, more surprised than hurt, then grabs my collar and slams me into the wall again.
“Enough,” he hisses.
I laugh breathlessly. “Too late.”
We grapple—clumsy, furious, years of swallowed resentment spilling out through clenched teeth and unsteady hands.
“You think you’re better than me,” I snarl.
“I think you’re going to destroy yourself,” he snaps back.
“At least it’ll be my choice!”
He shoves me again.
I shove back.
A chair clatters over. Footsteps echo.
“Stop.”
The voice cuts through us like a blade. Father. Sebastian strides toward us, face dark with fury. Servants scatter. Guards freeze mid-step.
“What is this?” he demands.
Neither of us speaks.
“I asked a question,” he says sharply.
“He started it,” Adrian says.
I bark a laugh. “Of course you’d say that.”
Father’s gaze snaps to me. “Silence.”
I don’t.
“You don’t get to talk to him like that,” I say.
Sebastian steps closer, towering. “You will lower your voice.”
“No,” I reply, heart pounding. “You don’t get to pretend this is about discipline when it’s about control.”
Adrian grabs my arm. “Mark, stop.”
I shake him off. “No. I’m done stopping.”
Sebastian’s face goes cold. “You are done speaking.”
He raises his hand. Not to strike. But my body doesn’t know that. I flinch. The room freezes.
Evangeline’s voice cuts in, sharp and commanding. “Sebastian.”
She steps between us without hesitation, one hand raised—not to block, but to claim space.
“Do not,” she says.
His hand trembles midair.
“They were fighting,” he says tightly.
“They are children,” she replies.
“They assaulted each other,” he snaps.
“They are hurting,” she counters. “And you are making it worse.”
Silence presses in. Sebastian lowers his hand slowly.
“Both of you,” Evangeline says, turning to us. “Enough.”
Adrian steps back immediately, shame flooding his face. “Mother, I—”
“Not now,” she says gently. “Go.”
He hesitates, then nods and leaves.
I don’t move. Sebastian turns to me. “You think this is strength?”
I meet his gaze. “I think pretending nothing’s wrong is weakness.”
His jaw tightens. “You are grounded.”
I shrug. “Fine.”
“You will apologize,” he adds.
I shake my head. “No.”
Evangeline turns to me. “Mark.”
“I won’t apologize for feeling something,” I say.
She studies me. “You will apologize for hurting your brother.”
I swallow. Not because I’m afraid. Because she’s right.
“I didn’t mean to,” I mutter.
“That doesn’t matter,” she says. “Intent doesn’t erase impact.”
Sebastian exhales hard, turning away.
Evangeline looks at me. “Go to your room.”
I nod once and leave, heart pounding, hands still shaking.
As I walk away, I hear her voice again—quiet, fierce.
“You almost became him,” she says to Sebastian.
And for the first time, I think he hears it. I don’t know what tomorrow brings. I only know this: We crossed a line today. And nothing will ever be the same again.