THE KING'S POSSESSION

Chapter 51

Chapter 51: Her Golden Locks

Once Lucian finally reached the servants' quarters, he burst through the door without a second thought, startling the women inside.

"Where is Isabel?" he demanded, his voice strained with barely controlled fury.

Anne, who had always been close to Isabel, was taken aback by the king's sudden appearance and his intense demeanour. Gathering her courage, she stepped forward and made a respectful bow.

"Your Majesty, I am a friend of Isabel. I apologize, but we cannot answer your inquiry," she replied, her voice tinged with worry.

Lucian's fists clenched as his anger boiled over. "What do you mean? Why not?" he pressed, his tone growing more impatient.

"The rumor of Isabel's imprisonment spread throughout the palace. No one was allowed to visit her. Some say she..." Anne hesitated, cautious of her words, but Lucian's impatience was palpable.

"Speak," he demanded, causing her to flinch.

"Some say she died, Your Majesty. With such a severe punishment, anyone would think so too. But... after a week, we never saw her body, and not even one of her belongings remained. It seems she left the palace. Someone might have helped her escape," Anne explained with a sense of relief in her voice at the thought that Isabel might have found a way to freedom.

Lucian's heart pounded. Isabel, dead? No, he couldn't believe it. But the possibility that she had escaped, that she was out there somewhere, gave him a flicker of hope but also made him furious. His mind raced with questions. Where could she have gone, and who could have helped her?

There was only one person who could answer his questions.

Lucian furiously stomped his way out of the quarters, his mind set on a singular goal. He stormed through the corridors, each step echoing his mounting anger and determination. The servants he passed shrank back in fear, sensing the tempest within him.

He headed to the inner palace, straight to Letecia. As he approached her chambers, the guards moved aside without question, their faces pale. Lucian burst through the doors without knocking, his eyes blazing.

Letecia looked up from her desk, startled by his abrupt entrance. "Lucian? What is the meaning of this?" she asked, her voice calm but wary.

"Isabel," he said through gritted teeth. "You know something about her disappearance, don't you?"

Letecia's expression remained composed, feeling a perverse sense of victory upon finally seeing Lucian's troubled demeanor. "Isabel? Who is Isabel?" she uttered, slowly walking toward him with a smirk on her lips.

"Do not play with me, Letecia," he warned, his voice taut with anger.

"Oh? And you are allowed to play with her?" She scoffed. "You are just like your father," Letecia hissed, her voice dripping with contempt.

"He is your father as well, you fool! Do not speak ill of him!" Lucian retorted, his temper flaring.

"Hah... You really defend the wrong people, brother," Letecia uttered in a bored tone, dismissively waving her hand before turning her back to him.

"Isabel has found her peace at last. Do not seek her out, Lucian. Her love for you is like the love one holds for a distant star on a clear winter's night-captivating, eternal, yet forever out of reach. She could only admire you from afar, for to draw near would mean to be consumed by your fire. You are that star, brother, and Isabel has always understood this." Letecia's voice was harsh as she retrieved a small folded bundle of cloth and handed it to Lucian.

"She wanted you to have this and wished for your happiness," Letecia said.

Lucian took the bundle, his fingers trembling. He unfolded the cloth to reveal locks of Isabel's hair. His breath caught in his throat as he realised the significance of such an act. In their kingdom, cutting one's hair was a profound symbol of mourning, reserved for grieving the death of a loved one.

"You are dead to her, Lucian," Letecia whispered, her words piercing his heart like a dagger.

"You chose to be with another and cast her aside. You used her, marked her body, and left her with naught but a broken heart," Letecia added, her voice a blend of accusation and sorrow.

Lucian stared down at the locks of Isabel's hair, his hands trembling. He could not find the right words as his mind swirled with the truth of what he had done. Letecia's whispered truths struck him like blows, each one more painful than the last, leaving him in silent anguish.

"She gave you everything, and you repaid her with betrayal," Letecia continued, her tone growing colder. "You were her world, Lucian. She loved you with a depth you cannot comprehend. And yet, you discarded her like a mere trinket."

Lucian's breath hitched, the weight of his guilt pressing down on him. "I did not intend for this," he murmured, his voice barely audible. "I... I love her. I love her."

"Intentions matter little when the result is the same," Letecia retorted sharply. "You chose power and duty over her, and now she grieves for a love that is no more. So, No. You do not love her."

"And I saved her from being completely destroyed. I saved her from you," Letecia scoffed, stepping back with a disdainful glare.

Lucian clutched Isabel's hair, his eyes tearing up and burning with rage. "Why are you doing this to me?" he demanded, his voice trembling.

Letecia sighed, seating herself gracefully before fixing him with an intense stare.

"My mother died of a broken heart, for your father chose to be with your mother. I still hear his wretched voice, telling my mother he married the late queen out of duty. Yet, he later fell in love with her. Did you know the extent of my mother's suffering? I hated you and everyone else! That is why I chose to leave the palace!"

"Isabel has nothing to do with this!" Lucian retorted, his anger flaring as his nails dug into his palms, his hand pointed accusatorily at her.

"Oh, but she does," Letecia countered, her tone icy. "I did not want her to end up like my dear mother. For it really does seem like..." She paused, a look of disgust crossing her face as she looked down on him. "...the apple does not fall far from the tree."