Hiding My Twin Heirs from the Ruthless Prince

CHAPTER 58

POV: Sebastian

For one terrible heartbeat, no one moves.

William stands in front of me, shaking with fury, black magic rising off him like smoke from a dying fire. Rosemary holds Henry pinned to the stone with her blade, teeth clenched, ready to end him if the boy comes one step closer. And Henry watches with a strange, icy calm, as if he already knows how the moment will unfold.

The tension is a living thing—thick, suffocating, waiting only for the smallest spark to ignite catastrophe.

“William,” I whisper, raising both hands slowly, “listen to me. Please.”

He doesn’t blink. The magic only burns brighter around him, swallowing his small frame.

Then a voice slices through the suffocating air.

“William!”

Everything stops.

It’s Evangeline.

I whip my head toward the entrance of the chamber—and there she is, breathless, terrified, but standing in the middle of the ruins like a force the curse itself could never destroy. Her hair is damp with sweat from running, her gown dirtied from the labyrinth’s dust, but her eyes—her eyes are blazing with something fierce and unyielding.

She steps closer. Slow. Careful. Deliberate.

“William,” she repeats, softer this time. “Look at me.”

He hesitates.

The magic flickers, dimming for half a second.

And then I see it—something glinting in Evangeline’s extended hand.

A necklace.

Silver. Delicate. Familiar.

William’s eyes widen. “That’s… that’s—”

“Your mother’s,” Evangeline finishes gently.

The entire chamber freezes.

Even Henry’s breath stutters.

Evangeline steps closer, her voice steady despite the tremble in her hands. “This necklace was given to Cordelia many years ago.” Her gaze flicks to me, softening just a little. “By Sebastian.”

I feel the world tilt.

She continues before I can speak. “She loved it. She wore it every day. It wasn’t just jewelry—it meant something to her. Something real. A memory she cherished. A moment where she wasn’t a witch cursed by darkness, but a woman who loved… and was loved.”

William’s magic trembles around his fingertips, flickering like a candle in the wind.

“No…” he whispers, “this is a trick.”

“It’s not,” Evangeline says, stepping closer. “Your mother loved Sebastian, William. And for a time—before the curse twisted everything—he loved her too.”

I swallow hard, emotion catching in my throat. The memory hits me like an old wound reopening—Cordelia smiling in the sunlight, wearing that necklace, laughing at something I had said. Before everything fell apart. Before the darkness consumed her.

William shakes his head violently. “He killed her!”

“Yes,” Evangeline says softly. “He did.”

My heart cracks at hearing it spoken aloud.

She kneels in front of the boy, lowering the necklace so he can see it better. “But do you know why?”

William’s breathing quickens. Tears gather in his eyes, though he tries to blink them away.

“He didn’t kill her because he hated her,” Evangeline continues. “He killed her because she was about to kill me—and my twin boys. She was blinded by the curse. Consumed by it. It wasn’t her anymore, William.”

The boy trembles, fighting the truth and his grief at once.

Evangeline gently reaches out and places the necklace into his shaking hands.

And then—it glows.

A warm, golden light spreads through the chamber, soft and gentle, like sunlight breaking through storm clouds. The metal warms in William’s palms, pulsing with life—no, with love. With Cordelia’s lingering warmth, the last echo of who she used to be.

William gasps.

For a moment he is not a child wielding dark magic, or the heart of a dangerous curse—

He is just a little boy holding a memory of his mother.

He clutches the necklace to his chest. Tears spill freely down his cheeks. The darkness around him wavers, flickers, and then begins to evaporate like mist in the sun.

Henry’s eyes widen in disbelief. “William—what are you—”

But he stops, because something in William’s expression changes.

Something softens.

Something shatters.

“I… remember,” William whispers. “She wore this when she held me. She smiled…” His voice breaks. “She smiled at me…”

The magic around him disintegrates further, unraveling from his body in thin ribbons of smoke.

Rosemary loosens her blade against Henry’s throat, stunned beyond words.

I take one cautious step forward. “William… your mother loved you more than anything in this world.”

Evangeline whispers. “She was more than the curse. This necklace—this warmth you feel—it’s the proof.”

A long, shaking breath escapes the boy.

Then the black aura binding him begins to dissolve completely. The air grows lighter, the pressure in the chamber easing as the suffocating darkness is stripped away from him piece by piece.

Henry stares, horror dawning in his eyes—not because he fears William, but because he is realizing something else:

That all along, he blamed the wrong man. All along, he nurtured vengeance against someone who once loved Cordelia deeply. All along, he believed the curse was fortune rather than a prison.

His expression cracks.

“Cordelia…” Henry whispers, voice shaking. “I didn’t… I didn’t know…”

But William doesn’t hear him.

The boy sways suddenly, exhausted by the overwhelming emotional storm. His knees buckle. Evangeline lunges forward and catches him in her arms before he hits the ground.

“Easy,” she breathes, brushing his hair gently. “You’re safe now. It’s over.”

As William collapses fully against her shoulder, the last of the dark aura evaporates into the air—gone completely.

A bright flash sears across the wall behind him.

All of us turn.

Three runes ignite—massive, ancient symbols carved into the stone, ones none of us noticed before. They burn with dazzling white-gold light, filling the chamber with a resonant hum.

One flickers.

Two flicker.

Three burst into brilliant radiance.

Then slowly, each begins to crack like porcelain—splintering until they explode in a cascade of shimmering dust.

Rosemary breathes, stunned, “The seals…”

Evangeline tightens her hold on William, whispering, “All three.”

Henry stumbles backward, staring at the glowing dust settling around us. “The curse…” His voice breaks. “It’s… gone.”

I can barely breathe.

Years of suffering. Cordelia’s torment. Henry’s madness. William’s grief. The kingdom’s fear.

All unraveled in a single moment—by the truth, by a necklace, by the echo of a love that existed before darkness.

Evangeline looks at me over William’s unconscious body. Her eyes glisten with tears—not of sorrow this time, but of something fragile and sacred.

The boy in her arms breathes softly, peacefully.

For the first time in five years.

The labyrinth falls silent again—but no longer with dread.

This time, it feels like a prayer.

I take a slow step toward Evangeline, toward William, toward the shattered runes still glowing softly.

The curse is gone.