enjoyebooks CHAPTER 37
CHAPTER 37
POV: Evangeline
Rain softens the edges of the palace graveyard, turning the stone markers into blurred silhouettes. The sky hangs low and heavy, as if mourning him with us. Alexandro’s coffin rests above the open grave—carved Meridian oak, polished but simple, exactly what he would have wanted. Nothing grand. Nothing gilded. Only honesty.
The priests finish their final words, their voices swallowed by the rain. Beside me, Georgina stands holding my arm, though she will not let me fall. She stayed only long enough to make sure I walked through the gate; the children were too shaken, too young, too unable to understand death in this violent form. She took them back inside, whispering reassurance I cannot give.
My hands tremble as they lower the coffin into the earth. I hear the rope creak, I hear the soft thud as wood meets soil, and something in me tears open so violently I cannot breathe.
“Alex…” My voice collapses. “I’m so sorry… I’m so, so sorry…”
The rain hides nothing. It mixes with my tears and streaks down my face in cold rivulets. I kneel in the mud before I even realize I’ve moved.
Maximilian steps closer, placing a steady hand on my shoulder. “He was a brother to all of us,” he murmurs. “But to you… I know the bond was stronger.”
I shake my head. “It shouldn’t have been him. He wasn’t the target. He wasn’t meant to be part of this. He didn’t deserve—”
My voice cracks. I fold forward, clutching the wet grass as if the earth might answer me. But the world offers no comfort. Only silence.
Rain rolls off the edges of Sebastian’s cloak as he approaches slowly. He has said almost nothing for two days—not to me, not to anyone. His face is pale, lined with exhaustion and grief. But grief cannot build a bridge between us now.
He kneels beside me, careful not to touch. “Evangeline,” he whispers, “come inside. You’re trembling.”
“Don’t.” I wipe my face roughly. “Don’t tell me what to do. Not right now.”
“I’m not commanding you,” he murmurs. “I’m asking.”
“You don’t get to ask anything of me today.” I stand shakily, glaring down at him. “Not after what happened.”
Maximilian tries to speak. “Evangeline—”
“It’s all right,” Sebastian says quietly. “Let her speak.”
I round on him. “I told you to stay back. I told you William was angry. I told you that boy wasn’t safe. And what did you do?” My voice rises, sharp enough to pierce the air. “You walked straight toward him. You ignored every warning.”
Sebastian’s jaw tightens. “I only wanted to help him.”
“Help him?” I laugh—broken, raw. “You aren’t his savior, Sebastian. You are the reason he suffers.”
Pain flickers across his face, but I cannot stop now. The grief pushes every word like a blade.
“William only came here because of you. Henry only came because of you. They made it very clear who their enemy is.” I point at him, voice shaking. “You. They wanted you.”
The mourners shift uncomfortably, but no one interrupts.
“And yet the one who died…” My voice cracks again. “The one who died was my brother. My Alexandro. The only constant in my life before I met you. The one who protected me when no one else could. The one who raised me, loved me, believed in me.”
Sebastian stands slowly, rain dripping from his hair. “Evangeline… I would have taken the blow if I had seen it coming.”
“But you didn’t!” I cry. “You didn’t see it because you were too focused on your own guilt. Too obsessed with saving a boy who doesn’t want you. And Alexandro paid the price.”
He flinches. Hard.
Maximilian steps forward. “Evangeline, grief speaks for you—”
“No,” I snap. “Grief doesn’t lie.”
I turn back to Sebastian, voice hollow. “I lost my brother because you couldn’t listen. Because you always have to carry everything alone. Because you refuse to see danger until it’s already killing someone.”
Sebastian’s breathing falters. “I am sorry,” he whispers. “More than I can ever express.”
“Sorry?” I shake my head violently. “Sorry won’t bring him back. Sorry won’t give my children their uncle. Sorry won’t repair the hole Henry and William ripped open.”
He takes a step toward me, but I retreat as though burned. “Don’t,” I whisper. “Don’t touch me.”
Sebastian’s voice turns faint. “Evangeline… please.”
“No,” I say again, firmer now. “I can’t look at you right now. I can’t—” My voice breaks. “Every time I see your face, all I see is Alexandro falling.”
The rain pours harder, as if the sky itself wants to drown out the pain.
Sebastian lowers his head. “If you wish to blame me, I will not argue. I deserve it.”
My throat closes. For a moment I close my eyes, wishing I could swallow my heart back into place. But the ache is too big. Too loud.
The mourners begin to drift away, leaving us standing beside the grave—me shaking, Sebastian still as stone, Maximilian hovering uncertainly between us.
“I need to go,” I whisper fiercely. “I need to breathe. I need to be anywhere but near you.”
Sebastian swallows. “I understand.”
Maximilian murmurs, “Let her—just let her go.”
Sebastian doesn’t move. He doesn’t follow. His hands fall uselessly to his sides. Rain soaks his hair, his cloak, his face—masking whether he cries or not.
I bend one last time and press my trembling fingers to the fresh mound of earth. “Goodbye, brother,” I whisper. “I’ll take care of your memory. I promise.”
Then I turn and walk away.
My footsteps splash against the puddles. The rain hits my skin in cold sheets. My breath comes fast and harsh. Grief drags at my limbs, but anger pushes me forward.
I do not look back.
But I hear Sebastian call my name—once, raw, broken.
I keep walking.
Behind me, in the graveyard, the King of this realm stands alone in the rain, beside a grave he believes should have been his own.