Shackled To The Enemy King

Catherine watched Joanne for a while longer, her gaze lingering in quiet scrutiny, as though the answer might reveal itself if she simply looked long enough.

This was the baby she had helped raise. She knew that much with certainty.

And yet...

This rebirth... this tangled, unpredictable reshuffling of lives, had never followed logic. It had never cared for reason or order. People who had once been strangers became family, and those who had once held power over her life returned in roles that made no sense at all.

Like Maximilian’s brother becoming her brother in this life.

That alone had been strange enough.

But this?

Her mother...

Becoming her grand-niece?

Catherine let out a soft, displeased grunt, her brows knitting together as she leaned back slightly. Whoever was responsible for this... whatever force thought it amusing to twist lives into such absurd patterns, must have had a thoroughly warped mind. There was no other explanation for something so deliberately disorienting.

And yet, as her thoughts circled, something else surfaced.

A pattern... in something far simpler.

Names.

Her expression shifted slightly as she focused on that thought, her mind reaching back, searching through memories that suddenly felt incomplete.

What was her mother’s name in her previous life?

The question settled in, and stayed.

Because she didn’t know.

Catherine stilled.

Her mother had always been Mother to her. To everyone else, she had been Her Majesty. A figure, a presence, a title, but never a name. No one had spoken it, not in her presence. Not even her father. In private, he had used a soft nickname, something affectionate and intimate. In public, it had always been my queen

. Never her name.

Catherine’s eyes narrowed slightly. That wasn’t normal. And it wasn’t something she could ignore anymore.

Then... A thought struck her with sudden clarity.

Maximilian! He would know.

Careful not to wake Joanne, Catherine gently slipped free from the small hand still clutching her sleeve, easing herself out of bed with quiet movements. She moved toward the door, her mind already set, the need for answers outweighing everything else.

But as she stepped into the hallway and approached Maximilian’s room, her guest bedroom, technically, her steps slowed.

She hesitated.

Last night...

The memory surfaced uninvited, vivid in a way that made her breath falter. The closeness, the warmth, the way he had held her... how near they had come to crossing a line that could never be undone.

Her knees pressed together slightly as the sensation returned, not physical, but remembered, lingering in a way that made her pulse quicken.

A quiet sigh escaped her.

If I go in now, will he continue?

The thought came softer than expected, threaded with something shy, something uncertain yet undeniably hopeful.

She went to the bathroom, brushed, fixed her hair, and then returned to the guest room.

A faint smile touched her lips before she could stop it, warmth rising to her cheeks as she stood there, caught between hesitation and anticipation.

For a moment, she simply stood in front of his door, and then she lifted her hand, ready to knock.

But before her knuckles could touch the wood, the door opened.

Maximilian stood there, close; far too close.

And just like that...

Her heartbeat lost its rhythm.

Their eyes met, and whatever words she had come for dissolved before they could form. There was something in his gaze, something unrestrained, something that had been waiting... and before she could react, Maximilian reached for her.

He pulled her inside without a word.

The door shut behind her with a soft but final click, and in the next breath, she was pressed back against it, the solid wood cool against her spine as his presence closed in around her. Her hands lifted instinctively, but he caught them, guiding them above her head, holding them there, firm enough that it sent a sharp awareness through her.

She had come here for something... something important. But standing this close to him... it didn’t seem important anymore.

"What are—"

Her voice barely formed.

He didn’t let her finish.

His lips found hers in a kiss that was anything but hesitant, all the restraint from the night before gone as though it had never existed. It was deeper this time, more certain, carrying something that had been building between them for far too long. Catherine’s breath caught, her body responding before her thoughts could catch up, the tension between them finally given space to unfold.

She felt the warmth of his hand at her side, the closeness of him impossible to ignore, every movement deliberate, every touch grounding and overwhelming all at once. All that remained was him.

The kiss deepened, unhurried yet consuming, as though neither of them intended to stop this time. Catherine felt herself drawn further into it, her earlier hesitation dissolving into something softer, something that made her lean into him instead of pulling away.

When he finally pulled back, it wasn’t far. Their foreheads nearly touched, their breaths uneven, mingling in the narrow space between them. His hold on her loosened, not releasing her completely, but no longer restraining, giving her the choice he hadn’t asked for a moment ago.

Catherine’s chest rose and fell as she looked at him, her fingers curling slightly where they still lingered near his grasp, her thoughts scattered and her pulse refusing to steady.

Neither of them spoke. They didn’t need to.

Because whatever had been left unfinished the night before... Was no longer being avoided.

"Not now..." he whispered, catching the meaning in her eyes before she could say a word.

His lips brushed her cheek instead, softer this time, restrained—but no less intimate. His eyelashes grazed her skin, the closeness almost unbearable in a different way than before.

"Not when there’s a child here..."

Catherine stilled.

The disappointment came immediately, sharply and undeniably. It wasn’t that he was wrong. He made perfect sense.

And that only made it worse.

With a quiet scoff, she pushed against his chest and stepped away, slipping out of his hold before he could stop her. She opened the door and walked out without looking back, her steps just a little too firm, her silence speaking louder than anything she could have said.

She had already forgotten why she had come there in the first place.

Though, if anyone could have read her thoughts in that moment, they would have known she had gotten at least part of what she wanted.

Maximilian watched her go, a slow smile curving his lips as she all but stomped her way toward the kitchen.

"You don’t lock your front door?" he called after her, his tone carrying mild curiosity as he followed.

It had been harmless this time—a child wandering in. But given everything surrounding her, shouldn’t she be more careful?

Catherine turned slightly, her irritation already softening into something lighter as she reached the counter. "I should give you a tour of our compound," she said, a small smile tugging at her lips. "You’ll understand then."

There was quiet confidence in her voice.

This place wasn’t just a house. It was protected.

Maximilian stepped closer behind her, his presence returning as if it had never left. His arms slipped around her from behind, pulling her gently into him, the gesture far softer than his earlier urgency, yet no less intimate.

Catherine’s smile deepened as she reached for the coffee maker, pretending to focus on the task even as her body leaned subtly into his warmth.

His hand moved against her waist, then higher, brushing over her stomach beneath the thin fabric, the contact grounding and familiar now.

"We have to go to Meridon," he murmured.

Catherine tilted her head slightly as his lips found her neck again, slower this time, lingering. Her eyes fluttered closed, her hand lifting instinctively to rest against his cheek, as though steadying herself in the moment.

"You’ve already bought me a ring, haven’t you?" she asked, her voice softer now, threaded with quiet certainty.

It made sense.

She had only told him last night that she wanted to marry him, but she knew him well enough to understand that he wouldn’t have waited for permission.

He would have prepared long before she asked.

Maximilian paused for just a fraction of a second. Then continued, as though the question hadn’t touched anything at all.

Catherine’s brows lifted slightly, curiosity growing. "Were you keeping it in that locked room?" she pressed, glancing at him now. "What is it like?"

No answer.

"How do you even know my ring size?" she continued, a hint of amusement slipping into her tone. "Should it be modified?"

This time, he reached for her hand. "You ask too many questions."

His fingers wrapped around her left hand, slow and deliberate, before his thumb and forefinger circled her ring finger, measuring it with quiet precision.

A faint smile touched his lips as he kissed her hand.

Catherine turned fully toward him now, narrowing her eyes. "Will you say something?"

That same infuriating smile remained.

She scoffed softly and began to turn away, only to be pulled back into him, his hand settling firmly at her waist.

Her breath hitched. Her heart skipped.

She didn’t hear the soft thudding of footsteps over the sound of her heartbeat.

"Gigi..."

The small voice cut through the moment like a thread snapping.