Broken heart of a warrior

Chapter 15

Antonio POV

She is... no—no, that cannot be... how is this even possible?

I had been honest. I had laid bare my fears, my secrets, the thoughts I had never trusted anyone else with—and still, she said nothing. Not a single word. Just silence... deliberate and controlled.

How could she do this to me?

The realization hits hard, settling deep in my chest. I cannot believe it. There is no way. I feel like a fool, a man who walked blindly into something he never understood. All this time, I have been drawn to her, pulled closer by something I could not explain—and she... she knew.

I should have seen it.

Did I truly mean so little to her?

But how could that be? How is it possible? There is no way I could have spent all that time at her side, close enough to feel her presence, and not realize who she truly was.

The thought alone is enough to leave me speechless.

I lean back in my chair, my body going still while my mind churns beneath the surface. Disbelief presses in from all sides, refusing to settle into anything I can grasp. Is this real... or am I reaching for something that was never mine to begin with?

My grip tightens without thinking and I watch as the metal handle of my fork bends under the pressure. The sharp edge bites into my palm, grounding me in something real, something solid.

I am trembling.

My thoughts try to form something coherent, but they slip, shifting too fast to hold. And then, cutting through everything else, a single question rises—clear and unavoidable.

What kind of game is she playing?

Slowly, I force the fork back into shape, the metal resisting before finally yielding. The faint sound echoes in the stillness around me, sharper than it should be.

I lift my gaze and scan the room.No one is watching me.

No curious glances, no whispers. As always, I remain what I have always been—the black sheep, unnoticed when it matters. But the court is anything but calm. A heavy silence hangs in the air, thick with shock as the lords sit frozen, still trying to comprehend what just unfolded before them.

Good.

I lean forward slightly, bracing myself against the table, trying to steady the storm inside me. It does nothing.

The anger rises anyway. Hot. Sharp. Unforgiving.

It moves through me like something alive, tightening in my chest, burning beneath my skin. Betrayal lingers there, heavy and undeniable.

And the moment returns to me.

Her voice. Her defiance. The way she stood before them—unshaken, unafraid as if none of them held any power over her.

As if I didn't either. The memory settles deep, refusing to fade.

The gnawing pangs of hunger coil inside me, sharp and relentless, twisting tighter with every passing second as my father finally answers Kendra's questioning gaze and in that moment, the entire room seems to fall into a suffocating stillness where every eye locks onto the unfolding scene.

And there it is—his rejection, cold and unmistakable.

He didn't try to soften it or conceal it behind courtesy, instead laying it bare before the court, before every witness who matters, casting me aside as though I am nothing more than a burden he no longer wishes to acknowledge.