Chapter 161: Breathe
The announcer’s voice booms through the grand hall, declaring our arrival. My body tenses, and I instinctively try to pull away, but the king’s grip on my hand is like a vice, unyielding. So I have no choice but to walk in beside him, my arm entangled with his, as if I’m his chosen companion. His date, on his birthday. Not the queen. How perfectly normal. Nothing strange or wrong about that at all.
As we descend the wide marble staircase, I feel the weight of countless eyes locked onto us. The room is filled with nobles adorned in their finest silks and jewels, and I can see their expressions shift as they watch us. Envy flashes in the eyes of some, a kind of twisted jealousy at my proximity to the king. Others look at me with pity, though whether it’s genuine or laced with condescension, I can’t tell. And then there’s more envy, thick and seething. To all those people, I want to say: You can have my place if you want it so badly.
The king’s voice carries across the room, launching into some grand speech about his birthday, the kingdom, or whatever pleasantries he’s decided to bestow upon the crowd. But I barely register his words. My focus is elsewhere. My eyes scan the crowd, moving frantically from face to face. Each unfamiliar person I see makes my heart beat harder, a drum of disappointment and hope warring within me. Where is he? Where is Thorne?
Anxiety coils in my gut, tightening with each second that passes. I feel like my insides are trembling, my nerves on edge. Please be here, I plead silently, clinging to that one desperate wish. Please, Thorne, be here. The anticipation is a living thing inside me, restless and desperate, making it hard to breathe. I can’t bear the thought of not seeing him, not when the hope of it is the only thing keeping me steady.
And that’s when I see him.
Thorne. My beloved husband.
My heart almost stops at the sight of him, and a swell of emotion so intense it feels like I’m drowning crashes over me. He’s there, standing just across the room, but he looks different—gaunt and worn down, with dark circles smudged beneath his blue eyes, the telltale signs of sleepless nights and worry. I know the toll our separation has taken on me, but seeing it mirrored on him hits me like a physical blow. My chest tightens, and a storm of feelings—grief, relief, yearning—washes over me all at once.
He’s looking right at me, and the moment our eyes meet, everything else disappears. The crowd, the noise, the stifling presence of the king at my side—all of it fades. There’s only Thorne. Only the man who is my home, my heart, my everything. His eyes are brimming with emotion, a raw intensity I’ve missed so deeply that it almost breaks me right there on the spot. It’s like he’s trying to say everything we’ve both held back with just a look, and I can’t help but feel the overwhelming urge to run to him, to throw myself into his arms and cling to him until this nightmare is over.