A few hours later a knock was at my door. I groaned, burying my face deeper into the pillow. "Enter," I mumbled, the word barely audible.
Torrance walked in. He was still in his black and golden suit, the one that seemed to be permanently molded to his striking frame. The stark contrast of the colors mirrored his personality – a dark undercurrent of something dangerous overlaid with an undeniable, almost regal, authority.
"Are you alright? Kristy said you took the shots hard." He walked towards the bed, his every step deliberate, his blue eyes, usually so intense and piercing, were softened with concern. He offered me a glass of water, a plate piled with bland-looking food, and a small vial filled with a murky potion. "Everyone went home, and the castle is cleaned," he added, his gaze sweeping over the room, ensuring everything was in its rightful place.
I managed a weak nod, pushing myself up against the headboard, the movement sending another wave of pain crashing through my skull. The food and medicine were surprisingly effective, the blandness soothing my churning stomach and the potion working its subtle magic on the throbbing in my head.
"Torrance…" I began, rubbing my eyes, trying to chase away the lingering fuzziness. "Are you a royal?" The question hung in the air, heavy with unspoken implications. I watched him, the tension suddenly radiating from him, his shoulders stiffening beneath the impeccably tailored suit.
"Yes… Sort of am and not," he responded, the words clipped, hesitant.
I tilted my head, confused. "What?"
He sighed, the sound heavy with reluctance. "Why didn't you say anything? What realm? And, most importantly… which king?" I had so many questions swirling in my mind that my throbbing headache seemed almost irrelevant, but it still lingered as always.
He sighed again, a deeper, more resigned sound this time. "I will tell you, but promise you won't freak out." This was the first time I'd ever seen him look genuinely nervous, the usually unshakeable confidence momentarily faltering.
"Continue," I said, bracing myself.
"My father isn't my father… He is of royal blood, but in a different way," he began, his voice low, as if speaking a forbidden secret.
"What does that even mean?" I asked, my confusion mounting. "I thought your father died."
"My real father is King Hunter, however my mother remarried after he disappeared." He whispered, his gaze fixed on some distant point beyond the confines of my room.
"Wait, as in… King Hunter… isn't he a…?" I began, struggling to articulate the unthinkable.
"A Forbidden? Yes, he is," he answered, his voice barely audible. A Forbidden, a cursed royal with broken, tainted blood. Legends whispered of them, remnants of ancient times, of tangled bloodlines and the wrath of forgotten gods. They were beings capable of terrifying power, but also marked by tragedy and destined for isolation.
"So that makes you..." I questioned, the realization dawning on me, sending a chill down my spine despite the warmth of the room.
"A mixed royal…I have interbred blood… Tainted, broken blood and pure blood," he explained, his eyes meeting mine, a deep, unreadable look in their depths.
My heart sank. I would have never guessed this day would get worse, but with the truth out, it did. I didn't even know what to say, but it made sense. The way he was, his darkness, his power, the allure and the danger that swirled around him.
I sighed in stress. "Now what?" I whispered, the question directed more at myself than him.
"If we ever reproduce, Isabella… our children will be unique. I don't want to scare you with the news, but I won't lie, there could be risks… if we ever do decide to have them," he continued, his voice laced with a vulnerability I'd never heard before. "Risks of instability, of uncontrollable power, of inherited madness… The Forbidden blood is unpredictable."
I looked at him, at the man who had become so inextricably woven into the fabric of my life, the man I found myself drawn to with an intensity that both thrilled and frightened me. I saw not a monster, not a cursed being, but a man burdened by a history he didn't choose, a man struggling to control the darkness within him.
"I want to…I understand their risks, but it's worth it, as you said. And there is nothing wrong with you… I think it's unique and creative." I reassured him, reaching out to take his hand, his skin warm and calloused against mine.
He smiled, a genuine, unguarded smile that lit up his face and banished the shadows from his eyes. He wrapped his arms around me, pulling me close, his embrace both comforting and possessive. "Thank you," he said, his voice muffled against my hair.
I nodded, holding him tight. "No need."
That night was unconventional, a tapestry woven with truth and uncertainty, with fear and burgeoning hope. It was a start. Maybe… we could make things work, even though it wasn't official. I wanted him, wanted to be with him, even if I didn't say it out loud.
A few moments later, he explained more, delving deeper into the secrets he had kept hidden for so long.
"I took over the throne at 18 and got married to Himura, as you heard. We were married by a contract from her mother due to a favor Hunter owed her. The kingdom my father ruled was known as the Flair Kingdom. The Flair Kingdom was the kingdom known as despair and abandonment of those misfits with tainted blood. It was rebuilt for new purposes and served an greater purpose. However, Himura had an agenda; she was demanding and controlling. After we divorced, I went to the Shadow Realm and was declared king by some subjects I helped. Athenia had helped me out and was a princess. I've built an empire there and kept it hidden for its protection… and ever since, no one knew about it," he explained, his voice flat, devoid of emotion as he recounted the details of his past.
I was in shock but understood. So… there is a reoccurrence for arranged marriages on both sides… interesting. I nodded in understanding and hugged him tight. I get it… I thought as we sat there in silence, the weight of his revelations pressing down on us.
"Are you still king?" I asked, breaking the silence.
"At times…I know it sounds bad, but I'm fighting for a good cause and will return to the throne someday…I have a request, though…" he mumbled, his grip tightening on my hand.
"Anything," I said, my heart aching for the burden he carried.
"Keep Athenia the princess of the Northenglades; she doesn't need to know or get caught up in my mess," he explained, his gaze pleading.
I nodded, my heart swelling with compassion for the little girl who had already endured so much. "I promise… but does she have mixed blood?" I asked, the question a whisper.
"I'm not sure… she isn't old enough to get tested; she needs to be seven for me to truly know," he said, his voice tinged with a mixture of hope and fear.
"Ok…" I responded, squeezing his hand in reassurance.