Why The Hell is Fate Trying to Kill Me?

Chapter 68 Empty Saddle

The earth did not shake with the thunder of an army. It began with the rhythmic sound of a single hunting party returning early.

The crowd stirred. "The Crown Prince returns... " a voice rippled through the pavilion.

I straightened my spine, fighting the wave of dizziness that threatened to pull me under.

The treeline broke.

Fabian rode out into the clearing. He was surrounded by his Royal Guards and their hounds, his white hunting leathers stained with the sweat of exertion. The sun caught his golden hair, and it was like making him look every bit the fairytale hero.

However, there was no White Stag or other animal behind him. His hands were empty of weapons.

Instead, his arms were full of her.

Sitting in front of him, wrapped securely in his royal blue cloak, was Lady Anna. She looked small and fragile against his chest, her hands clutching his tunic for safety.

The silence in the encampment was instantaneous and suffocating for me.

I saw his face didn't look ashamed. He merely passed me.

He pulled his horse to a halt in front of the Royal Pavilion. He dismounted with grace, then reached up and gently lifted Anna down from the saddle.

He turned, his eyes scanning the crowd, searching desperately until they locked onto me.

I was standing at the centre of the entrance, away from the shade of the pavilion. My dress was tight, my skin pale as linen, and my body trembling with the effort of simply existing.

His face transformed. His pride vanished, replaced by a look of panic.

"Aurelia!"

He forgot the Queen. He forgot the crowd.

He rushed toward me. He looked at my sweat-slicked brow and my trembling hands.

He stopped just inches from me, his breathing heavy, his eyes wide with distress.

"You waited," he breathed, his voice thick with a mix of guilt and awe. "You stood here... all this time?"

Behind him, Anna was walking toward us... How dare...

"Your Highness," I said, my voice immediately cutting through his concern. "Where is the prize? Stag?"

He flinched, yet there was a protective edge to his voice. He glanced back at Anna, who stopped in her tracks, watching us with narrowed eyes, clutching a jewelled object.

"We lost it," he admitted, his voice quiet.

I stared at him.

"Lost it?" I repeated, my voice flat.

I took a slow, deliberate step forward, forcing him to meet my gaze.

"What do you mean by 'lost it', dear Fabian?"

He shifted uncomfortably.

"Did it escape?" I asked, my tone soft. "Did you miss? Or did you simply... forget why you entered the forest?"

"No, I... I cornered it," he insisted, his voice rising with frustration. "I had the shot. I had the beast."

"Then why," I asked, gesturing to the empty saddle, "is it not here?"

He looked away, his jaw tightening in shame.

"I reached for the Ceremonial Dagger to perform the Rite," he confessed. "It was not there. I hesitated. And in that moment... it broke the line."