Shackled To The Enemy King

Catherine blinked, as though surfacing from somewhere far too deep, her focus snapping back to the table, to the room, to the fact that her brothers were still very much present. A faint warmth crept up her neck, subtle but unmistakable, as she straightened slightly, her composure returning piece by careful piece.

Maximilian, on the other hand, did not startle. He merely shifted his gaze away from her with unhurried ease, as though the interruption had been expected all along, though the faint curve of his lips suggested he hadn’t minded the moment lasting just a little longer.

The spell had broken.

But not entirely.

Because even as Catherine reached for her glass, pretending a calm she didn’t quite feel, she was acutely aware of him, of the way his presence lingered beside her, steady and unshaken.

And William, watching it all, exhaled quietly through his nose, the smirk never quite leaving his face.

Yes.

This was going to be interesting.

Catherine turned to Jonathan, clearing her throat as she gathered her composure back into place. "I want to know about Leon Aureus," she said, her tone measured, almost casual.

Yet, despite addressing Jonathan, her attention betrayed her.

Her eyes rested, steadily and deliberately, on Maximilian.

She watched him the way one watches a puzzle that refuses to solve itself, searching for the smallest crack, the slightest shift. If this had been anyone else, she knew exactly what she would have seen. A flicker of irritation. A tightening jaw. Some sign, however subtle, that another man’s name had stirred something possessive, something territorial.

Maximilian did none of that.

Jonathan blinked, momentarily caught off guard. She was speaking to him, yet her gaze hadn’t left Maximilian even once.

Maximilian, meanwhile, met her stare with complete ease. He turned toward her fully, that same infuriating, composed smile settling on his lips as though it had always belonged there.

"Why would you want to find him?" he asked.

Catherine didn’t answer immediately. She studied him instead, carefully, trying to decide whether he was unaffected... or simply enjoying himself.

"To thank him, of course," she said at last, her voice smooth, deliberate. "He helped our family. The least I can do is thank him, however he prefers."

For a moment, Maximilian said nothing. He simply looked at her. And then, there was a small, almost imperceptible movement.

His throat shifted as he swallowed.

Catherine noticed. Her gaze sharpened. That was something.

Still, he didn’t speak. Didn’t deflect. Didn’t confirm.

And suddenly, a thought slipped into place so seamlessly it almost startled her.

Maybe... he’s calm because it’s him.

Maybe he wasn’t reacting because there was nothing to react to.

Maybe... He was watching her take interest in him... without realizing it.

The idea settled in her chest, slow and dangerous, threading through her thoughts with unsettling ease.

It made sense.

Too much sense.

But just as she leaned into it, trying to pull the thread further, another question surfaced, cutting through her certainty.

"Wait..." she said, her brows knitting slightly as she turned back to Jonathan. "If Leon Aureus wanted to help our family, why use BioQuant’s name? Does he own a large share there? How does that even work?"

Jonathan nodded, slipping easily back into explanation. "If his goal was purely to help us, using his own name would have been far more effective. His reputation alone could have stabilized everything immediately," he said. "But the fact that he moved through BioQuant—and through indirect channels..." He paused slightly. "It suggests something else."

Catherine felt her fingers tighten unconsciously against the fabric of her skirt.

"Maybe he wasn’t trying to help us," Jonathan continued. "Maybe he simply saw an opportunity. Acquiring influence, shares, positioning himself strategically—it would align more with how he’s known to operate."

Catherine exhaled softly, the fragile thread of hope inside her loosening.

"So... it meant nothing?" she murmured, more to herself than to anyone else.

Had she... imagined it?

Had she wanted it to be him so badly that she began to see patterns where none existed?

Jonathan seemed to consider something before adding, "He does own a significant portion of BioQuant, at least, the part that’s publicly traceable under his name. But with someone like him... it’s almost certain that’s only the surface. He likely controls far more through indirect holdings."

Catherine’s grip tightened further.

No matter how she turned it, no matter how she reasoned through it... Maximilian still fit too well into the spaces Leon Aureus occupied.

This would be exactly how King Maximilian would operate in this world. He wouldn’t be content being a history professor!

And yet...

If it really was him, why would he still hide it from her?

Her gaze drifted back to him once more, slower this time, heavier with thought.

And Maximilian... simply watched her, as though he already knew exactly where her thoughts had gone... and had decided, very deliberately, to let her wander there on her own.

William shook his head as he watched the two of them drift, yet again, into a space that seemed to exclude everyone else at the table. The first light of morning had begun to filter in, soft and golden, and here they were, tangled in something far too intense for that hour. A quiet, amused exhale left him as he reached for his drink, deciding, once again, to pull them back to earth.

"So everyone wants you for your research?" he asked, his tone deliberately casual. "What exactly are you working on?"

The question did what it was meant to do.

Catherine blinked, her thoughts snapping back into place as she turned toward him. "Alzheimer’s," she said simply, her voice steady again. "Neurodegenerative pathways. Early-stage intervention."

It wasn’t something she had ever truly discussed with them before—not in detail, not in a way that demanded to be understood.

William tilted his head slightly, studying her. "Is it worth that much?" he asked. "Or is this about prestige?"

Maximilian didn’t speak.

But he watched.

Closely.

There was something almost unsettling about the contrast before him. Her brothers were willing, ready to pour millions into building her a lab, to give her whatever she needed without hesitation... and yet, the depth of what she was doing seemed to elude them entirely.

Their support was real, unquestionable even, but it lacked comprehension.

"Both," Catherine replied, a faint lightness to her tone. "Everyone wants to be the one who finds the cure."

Jonathan and William nodded, almost in unison, as though that explanation was sufficient.

To Maximilian, it wasn’t. It didn’t feel like understanding. It felt like indulgence, like they were indulging her ambition without grasping its scale.

William poured himself a drink and, after a moment’s thought, extended the bottle toward Maximilian, offering him a glass of bourbon. Maximilian accepted with a quiet nod, his gaze never quite leaving Catherine, even as his fingers curled around the glass.

"I’m close to a breakthrough," Catherine added.

Again, the same reaction.

A nod.

A flicker of pride.

But still, it was only surface-level, still distant from the magnitude of what she was saying.

Maximilian set his glass down, the soft sound of it against the table drawing just enough attention.

"Her current research is already worth billions," he said, his tone even, unembellished, as though stating a simple fact. "If she succeeds, that value multiplies."

Catherine’s fingers stilled. She hadn’t meant to say that. She hadn’t meant to quantify it that way.

But Maximilian... Maximilian never hesitated where she did.

"Billions?" Jonathan repeated, his voice sharpening slightly.

"With a B?" William added, a hint of disbelief breaking through his composure.

Maximilian didn’t look at them. He looked at her. And there was something in his gaze now that hadn’t been there before... Recognition, as though, out of everyone at that table, he was the only one who truly understood exactly what she was building...

And exactly how much it could change the world.

"Yeah," Catherine said, lifting her teacup and taking a quiet sip, as though she had just mentioned something trivial instead of casually placing a number that could shift industries on the table.

Jonathan and William both fell silent.

They looked at each other, and this time, the understanding that passed between them was not light or dismissive. It carried weight. Real weight. The kind that settled slowly, heavily, until it could no longer be ignored.

This wasn’t a passing interest.

This wasn’t something they could simply fund and forget.

This was power.

Their little sister held such power. They always knew she was smart, but they didn’t know she could bring a change this big to the world.

And power, especially of this magnitude, never existed without consequence.

"Then your life could be in danger," Jonathan said, leaning forward slightly, his voice quieter now, stripped of its earlier ease.

Catherine lowered her cup, her expression barely shifting as she absorbed the statement. Instead of alarm, there was only a small, almost absent-minded shrug, as though she had already walked that thought through on her own and made peace with it.

"That’s not exactly a new concept," she said lightly.

Maximilian’s grip tightened, just slightly, around the glass.

That... was not a risk he intended to allow.