THE KING'S POSSESSION

Chapter 102

Chapter 102: The Morning After

A faint crash echoed from somewhere nearby, jolting Tristan awake. His eyes snapped open as the remnants of a deep, groggy sleep clung to his mind. His head throbbed, a sharp ache pounding behind his eyes, and his vision swam as he tried to gather his bearings. The room was dim, with only slivers of morning light filtering through the heavy curtains.

For a moment, Tristan remained still, blinking in a trance-like state. Everything felt surreal, as if he was drifting between a dream and reality. Then, the events of yesterday began to seep back into his consciousness. He remembered the Empress's serene smile, the drink she offered—smelling of the finest wine—and how the expensive wine had made him feel warm, lightheaded, and unusually drowsy. The realization dawned on him that the drink had been more than just for celebration. It was a trap, a calculated move in the final trial.

His breath hitched as another memory surfaced. He remembered the woman who had entered his chamber and panic began to claw at his chest, and he flinched, slowly turning his head to glance beside him. His heart plummeted as his worst fears were confirmed.

There she was, the same woman from last night, lying beside him in the bed. Her soft, rhythmic breathing was the only sound in the room. The silk sheets barely covered her bare form, her dark hair spread across the pillow like a shadow. Tristan's heart raced while his pulse began thundering in his ears as he took in the sight. The implications hit him like a sledgehammer.

His eyes widened in horror, his mind reeling as he tried to process what he was seeing. What have I done? The thought echoed through him like a bitter refrain. His stomach churned with guilt and the taste of betrayal was sharp on his tongue. He had set his purpose and that is to protect Isabel and ensure Lucian could never hurt her again. Yet here he was, lying bare next to another woman as the evidence of his failure was unmistakable.

This must have been the final trial all along, he realized, his hands trembling as he slowly sat up, his movements careful not to wake the woman. The weight of his actions crushed him, each thought a dagger to his conscience.

"I've failed her, I've failed Isabel."

He had promised himself he would protect Isabel at all costs, but now he felt as if he had betrayed her in the worst possible way. He had allowed himself to fall into the Empress's trap, and now he was tainted, no longer worthy of the woman he loves.

Tears stung at the corners of his eyes, but he blinked them away, forcing himself to stay composed. He couldn't afford to break down now. This was still the final trial, and if Lucian had managed to pass, then all might be lost. He had to think, to find a way out of this, to stop Lucian before it was too late.

But the gnawing guilt remained and it was a heavy burden in his chest. No matter what happened next, he knew one thing for certain—he could never forgive himself for this. The love he held for Isabel felt tarnished, corrupted by the very act that had transpired in the darkness of the night. Even if it had been orchestrated, even if it wasn't truly his fault, it didn't matter.

I've failed her, he thought again, his heart sinking deeper into despair.

With a shaky breath, Tristan forced himself to stand, his legs unsteady beneath him. He needed to prepare for what lay ahead. But as he dressed, his thoughts kept returning to the woman in the bed, to the decision he had to make.

As he fastened his tunic, a rustling sound from the bed drew his attention. The woman stirred, her eyes fluttering open as she slowly awoke. The moment Tristan's gaze met hers, a wave of shame washed over him, paralyzing him where he stood. His heart pounded, and the crushing weight of his actions pressed down on him with renewed force.

Before he could think, before he could muster any rational thought, Tristan's knees buckled. He fell to the floor, the cold stone against his skin, and bowed his head low. His voice trembled as he spoke, filled with desperation and regret.

"I'm so sorry," he choked out, his hands trembling on the ground. "I beg your forgiveness. I don't know what happened... I didn't mean for this to... I never meant to— Take my life and satisfy your anger..."

His words faltered, broken by the raw emotion clawing at his throat. He couldn't bring himself to look at her with his shame too great.

How could he face her after what had happened? How could he ever hope to make amends for something he couldn't even remember clearly?

His thoughts spiraled into darkness, each one a dagger twisting in his chest. He had failed Isabel, failed himself, and now he was failing this woman too, whoever she was. All he could do was beg for her forgiveness, even if he knew it could never truly absolve him.

Silence hung in the air between them. The tension was thick and suffocating. Tristan remained on his knees, head bowed, waiting for her response, for her judgment. He didn't know what she would say, what she would do, but he was prepared to accept whatever punishment she deemed fit. It was what he thought he deserves.

The woman's footsteps moved closer, and Tristan braced himself. But instead of harsh words or anger, a small smile curved her lips as she extended her hand. In it was a simple wooden ring.

"Sooner or later, you shall face the Empress," she said softly. "Take it, wear it, and show it to her."

Tristan's heart sank. A wooden ring—it must mean he had lost. The realization struck him like a blow, and his chest tightened with disappointment. Yet, as he looked up at the woman's serene expression, he forced himself to take the ring with both hands. Despite the heaviness in his heart, Tristan managed a faint smile. He appreciated the gesture, even if it signified his defeat.

"Thank you," he murmured, his voice heavy with emotion. The woman nodded and turned away, carefully keeping her body covered as she left the room.

As the door closed behind her, Tristan remained on his knees, staring at the wooden ring in his hand. He felt the weight of his failure, but he couldn't deny the small spark of hope that flickered within him. Despite everything, he resolved to face the Empress with honesty. He would openly admit his failures and accept whatever consequences came his way. His shame would be laid bare before Isabel, but he was determined to do whatever it took to protect her, even if it meant remaining in the shadows.