Chapter 138: Pain Carried in Silence

Chapter 138: Chapter 138: Pain Carried in Silence

"And she’ll be able to assist me."

Donovan studied Vaelen’s expression.

There was a strange finality to his words, as though Vaelen had already convinced himself that the matter was settled.

Perhaps that was why Donovan did not argue further.

Instead, he merely nodded.

"If you say so."

Vaelen picked up another chess piece from the floor and turned it between his fingers.

"I do."

The words were spoken to Donovan, but they seemed equally meant to reassure himself.

As if repeating them enough times might somehow make the uncomfortable feeling in his chest disappear.

By dusk, the rain had eased.

For a brief while, the clouds parted enough for the palace grounds to emerge from beneath the grey curtain.

But as night descended, the rain returned.

This time, it was gentler—a steady drizzle that softened the sounds of the sleeping capital.

---

At Draevenor Manor, dampness clung to the windows and stone walls.

The braziers had been lit early that evening, yet the cold seemed to settle into the corners regardless.

Elysia sat before her dressing table, slowly loosening her hair for the night.

She had nearly finished when Clara entered.

"Your Grace."

Elysia looked at her through the mirror.

"Her Majesty the Queen has sent word. She invites Your Grace to the palace tomorrow afternoon for a talk."

Elysia’s fingers slowed.

The Queen’s invitation could hardly be considered casual.

Still, whatever Ilara intended to discuss, Elysia was prepared to face it.

"Send word that I accept."

"Yes, Your Grace."

Clara bowed and withdrew.

Elysia finished arranging her hair before washing and changing for the night.

When she entered the bedchamber, she found Cassiel already there.

As usual, he was seated in bed with a book in his hands.

Elysia paused at the sight of him.

Her mind immediately returned to Wulfric’s instructions earlier that afternoon.

The thought alone was enough to make her cheeks feel warm.

She took a quiet breath.

There was no reason to be embarrassed.

She was his wife.

She had nothing to be ashamed of.

With that thought firmly in mind, she climbed onto the bed and slipped past him, settling herself on the inside.

For a moment, she lay stiffly beneath the covers, wondering how she was supposed to bring up the matter.

Before she could find the courage, Cassiel spoke.

"Do they hurt?"

Elysia blinked.

"Hmm?"

"Your knees."

"Oh... I’m used to it. They don’t hurt as much anymore." She looked up at him and smiled.

Cassiel slowly closed his book and turned towards her.

Under his quiet gaze, her carefully composed expression began to falter.

"Lysa."

His voice was gentle.

"It is all right to say they hurt. You don’t have to get used to it."

Elysia’s smile disappeared.

Her eyes suddenly stung.

For a moment, she could not speak.

In her previous life, around 8 months into their marriage, there had been a grand reception at the summer palace.

Vaelen, as Crown Prince, had moved through the halls cultivating support among the nobility for his faction.

Elysia had followed beside him, standing with him through each conversation, smiling when appropriate, existing as part of his presentation in her role as crown princess.

Her knees had been particularly troublesome that week. The damp weather always made them worse, and by then she had learned to judge the coming rain by the ache alone.

But she had said nothing.

For hours, she stood beside him as he moved from faction to faction, sometimes lingering in conversation for thirty minutes or more before drifting toward the next group.

By the third circle of conversations, the pain had sharpened considerably.

When they had paused between groups, she had quietly mentioned, "My knees are aching quite badly. Perhaps we could—"

Vaelen had glanced at her as though she had said something absurd.

"Aren’t you in pain frequently?" he had asked coldly.

"Yes, but the damp weather makes it worse—"

"Then you should be used to it by now. Besides, how bad can it be? You’re standing perfectly well."

He had not bothered to glance in her direction again, turning his attention to the next group of nobles approaching them.

Elysia had followed him back into the crowd.

She had stood beside him for the remaining conversations.

She had not mentioned her knees again.

She had not even dared to shift her weight.

Just stood there, smiling, while pain radiated through her legs, and learned to make her suffering invisible.

Yet now, lying beside Cassiel, another voice drowned them out.

You don’t have to get used to it.

Elysia lowered her eyes quickly when she realised they had filled with tears.

She did not want him to see.

Cassiel noticed anyway.

He set his book aside completely.

"Shall I massage them for you?"

Elysia hesitated.

Normally, she would have refused.

This time, however, she quietly nodded.

She sat up and carefully drew her nightclothes higher, exposing her knees and slender calves.

There were no obvious scars.

Nothing on the surface suggested how much pain lay beneath it.

Cassiel rested his broad hand over one of her knees.

His palm was warm.

The roughness of his calluses was noticeable against her skin, a reminder that the hands touching her now belonged to a man who had spent years training with a sword.

He applied gentle pressure, neither too light nor too firm.

He did not ask whether it helped, nor did he watch her face for a reaction. He simply worked, steadily, as though he intended to continue for as long as it took.

Elysia slowly relaxed.

Whether it was the massage or simply the warmth of his hand, the ache seemed to ease.

Her gaze fell upon his hand.

That was when she noticed the scar between his thumb and forefinger.

She had never seen it before.

"Your hand..."

Cassiel glanced down.

"This scar?"

Elysia nodded.

"How did you get it?"

"I received it while saving the King."

Elysia looked at him in surprise.

"Really?"

Cassiel hummed.

His hand continued its slow movement over her knee.

"My father had several sons. The Crown Prince was originally my eldest brother, but he committed an offence serious enough to have his title stripped."

Elysia listened quietly.

"The position was left vacant. The King and I are full brothers, so I asked him whether he wanted to become Crown Prince."

"And he said yes?"

"He did."

Cassiel’s fingers shifted slightly as he continued massaging her knee.

"Unfortunately, word reached my second brother."

Elysia’s expression grew more serious.

"He was ambitious and unwilling to tolerate another rival."

Cassiel’s voice remained remarkably calm.

"That summer, we were travelling to our mother’s family estate. He knew exactly where we would be."

Elysia’s fingers curled slightly against the blanket.

"They came at us on the second day, where the road narrows through the woods. The carriage could not turn. The escort was strung out too thin along the path."

He said it in a way another man might describe the weather.

"We were both young then. I had a sword, but it was ceremonial, and I hadn’t learnt to wield it well then."

Elysia’s breath caught.

"When one of them breached our carriage and attacked my brother, I caught the descending blade with my hand."

Elysia winced.

Cassiel continued the massage as though the memory were nothing more than a distant inconvenience.

"But something good came out of this."

Elysia looked at him.

"The King never forgot that day. He has never forgotten that I took a blade for him."

His expression became more thoughtful as his fingers continued to move gently over her knee.

"Today, after the attack on the street, he was informed of what happened. He has promised me a thorough investigation."

Elysia thought about that.

"But... Caelvyr is the heart of the kingdom."

Her brows knitted together.

"For someone to attempt an assassination here, the person behind it must hold considerable influence."

Cassiel nodded.

"Yes."

"And the King’s promise to investigate..."

She hesitated.

"What does that actually mean?"

A low chuckle escaped him.

"I don’t need him to find the culprit for me. All I need is his stance."

His gaze sharpened.

"That is what matters."

He paused before continuing, "Whoever ordered the attack. Whoever instigated Adela’s scheme. Whoever is involved..."

Cassiel’s expression was calm, almost cold.

"In the end, the possibilities narrow considerably."

His thumb brushed lightly across her leg.

"And I know exactly who my enemies are."

Elysia fell silent.

For some reason, those words did not reassure her.

They made her realise just how dangerous Cassiel’s world truly was.

He had enemies powerful enough to send assassins after him in the heart of Caelvyr.

And yet he sat beside her now, patiently massaging her injured legs as though nothing else in the world mattered.

Elysia lowered her gaze to his hand.

For the first time, she wondered how much pain this man had endured without ever telling anyone.

Perhaps Wulfric had been right.

Some wounds were much harder to treat than those a physician could see.