enjoyebooks CHAPTER 74
CHAPTER 74
POV: Maximilian
I still believe I have time.
That belief is the only thing that lets me breathe as the weight of the crown presses into my skull for the first time. It is heavier than it looks—cold metal resting against bone, a constant reminder that every movement I make now belongs to the kingdom. The cheers echo through the great hall, banners lifting in waves of blue and gold, but my eyes search instinctively for one thing that isn’t there.
Celeste.
The applause blurs into noise. I bow when I am told to bow. I smile when I am told to smile. I let them call me Your Majesty and Astoria’s hope and the future secured. All the while, a single thought beats beneath it all, steady and insistent.
This ends now.
After the coronation feast, after the endless toasts and vows and public devotion, I excuse myself under the guise of exhaustion. No one questions it. A king’s fatigue is treated with reverence. Guards part at my command. Doors open without hesitation.
Power moves things quickly.
I go to my mother first.
Her private solar smells of lavender and old parchment. She stands by the window when I enter, her back straight, her hands folded tightly in front of her. She does not turn when the door closes behind me.
“You shouldn’t be here,” she says softly.
“I shouldn’t have been crowned while my sister rots in a tower,” I reply.
She flinches.
I cross the room in long strides, anger coiled tight in my chest. “It’s over,” I say. “I’m king now. I want the orders lifted. Tonight.”
She turns to face me, and for a moment I see not the Queen of Astoria, but my mother—tired, frightened, worn thin by years of impossible choices.
“Maximilian,” she whispers. “Please.”
“Please?” I echo bitterly. “That’s what she said. When they dragged her away. When they locked her in.”
Her lips tremble. “You don’t understand.”
“I understand perfectly,” I snap. “The elders are afraid. Father was afraid. You were afraid. So you sacrificed her comfort for your stability.”
“That’s not fair.”
“Neither is a child imprisoned without a trial,” I shoot back.
She closes her eyes, drawing a shaky breath. “The wards are not meant to be cruel.”
“They hurt her,” I say. “Every day.”
Silence stretches between us.
“She’s growing stronger,” my mother says finally, her voice barely audible. “The reports are… concerning.”
I laugh once, sharp and humorless. “Of course she’s stronger. You locked her in a cage and expected her to wither.”
“You don’t know what she’s capable of,” she says, desperation creeping into her tone. “The elders believe the curse—”
“I don’t care what they believe,” I interrupt. “I care about my sister.”
My mother steps closer, her eyes shining. “If you free her now, without preparation, without safeguards—”
“She deserves sunlight,” I say. “She deserves a life.”
“And if the people see her?” she presses. “If they panic? If they revolt? You have just taken the throne. The kingdom is fragile.”
I hesitate.
Just for a moment.
She sees it and presses her advantage. “Give us time. Let the council adjust. Let fear cool. Let us find a way that doesn’t tear Astoria apart.”
“How much time?” I ask quietly.
She doesn’t answer.
My jaw tightens. “I promised her.”
“I know,” she says, reaching for my arm. “And you will keep that promise. Just not yet.”
I pull away. “Soon,” I say. “It will be soon.”
She nods, relief flooding her features. “Soon.”
I leave her solar feeling hollow.
***
That night, I go to the tower.
The guards bow deeply when they see me. No one stops me. No one questions my presence. The key turns easily in my hand, the iron door opening with a familiar, hated sound.
Celeste is standing when I enter, as if she has been waiting. Her eyes are bright, too bright, her posture tense.
“You’re crowned,” she says. “I heard the bells.”
“Yes,” I reply, forcing a smile. “It’s done.”
She steps toward me, hope blazing in her expression. “Then… then you can let me out.”
The words lodge in my throat.
“Soon,” I say.
Her face falls.
“Soon?” she repeats. “You said when you became king.”
“I am king,” I say quickly. “And I will free you. I swear. I just need time to dismantle what they’ve built. The wards. The fear.”
“How much time?” she asks.
The same question. The same silence.
“I don’t know,” I admit.
Her hands curl into fists at her sides. “You promised.”
“I know,” I say, stepping closer. “And I’m not breaking it. I just—this kingdom is unstable. If I move too fast—”
“You sound like them,” she says quietly.
The words cut deeper than any accusation.
“I’m trying to protect you,” I insist.
“From who?” she asks. “You?”
Pain flashes across her face, raw and unguarded. “I waited. I survived because of that promise.”
Guilt claws at my chest. “Celeste, please.”
She laughs softly, a sound that makes my skin prickle. “They crowned you today. They sang for you. And I’m still here.”
“I will fix this,” I say fiercely. “I just need time.”
She studies me, something dark flickering behind her eyes. Then she nods slowly.
“All right,” she says. “I’ll wait.”
Relief floods me. “Thank you.”
But as I turn to leave, something twists in my gut.
Because the way she says it doesn’t sound like hope.
It sounds like resignation.
In the days that follow, I am buried under rule.
Petitions. Councils. Disputes that have festered for decades suddenly demand my immediate attention. Every hour is accounted for. Every decision weighed and scrutinized.
I tell myself this is temporary.
I tell myself I will go to her tomorrow. Then the next day. Then the next.
The elders watch me closely. Too closely.
“You are young,” Lord Veyrin says during one council session. “Eager to prove yourself.”
“I have nothing to prove,” I reply coldly.
“Then act with patience,” he suggests. “A rushed king is a dangerous one.”
I bite my tongue until I taste blood.
That night, I dream of stone cracking and iron bending. I wake with my heart racing, Celeste’s face burned into my vision.
I will free her. I repeat it like a mantra as the days blur together. I still believe I have time. I am wrong. But I do not know that yet.