Transmigrated as the Crown Prince's Mate
Chapter 203: Love or Kingdom?

Chapter 203: Love or Kingdom?

The throne room was quiet that morning.

Golden light poured in through the tall stained glass windows, creating colorful patterns on the shiny marble floor.

King Lucien sat by himself on a smaller, simpler seat—not the grand throne used for official meetings, but one meant for private conversations. He drummed his fingers on the armrest, lost in thought.

Damian entered without fanfare.

No guards. No page to announce him. Just a prince walking toward a king, a son walking to his father.

Lucien looked up slowly. "You’re earlier than usual."

"I wanted to speak with you before the council convenes."

"I assumed you might," Lucien said, adjusting himself on his seat. "News travels quickly in this castle. Even faster when tongues wag for a crown."

Damian sighed. "So you’ve heard."

"About you and your mate parading the palace like two lost lovebirds?"

Damian stood tall, arms behind his back. "I plan to announce my engagement to Evelina before the week is out."

The silence that followed was deafening.

Lucien’s fingers stopped drumming. His expression didn’t change—but the pause in his movements was telling enough. "I see," he said at last. "So that’s what all the... attention has been leading toward. You’re sure this is what you want?"

"Yes," Damian said. "I’ve never been more sure of anything."

A pause.

Lucien stood up and paced a bit. "She’s smart. Capable. Fierce." He glanced up at Damian. "You could do worse."

Damian blinked. "That sounds dangerously like approval."

"But," Lucien added, holding up a finger, "you could also have done better—in the eyes of this court."

The warmth in Damian’s expression dimmed. "You don’t trust her."

"I didn’t say that," Lucien replied. "But I don’t trust chance. And Evelina Drewstone—regardless of what she’s become—was once accused of treason and amlost executed. Her enemies haven’t forgotten that, and neither have the people who turned their backs on her."

"I’ve made my decision," Damian said. "She’s my mate. My equal. She’s earned it."

"Earned?" Lucien echoed. "You think love is earned, boy? You think the council and the nobles will forget what she was accused of simply because you parade her around in fine dresses and feed her sweetfruit at picnics?"

Damian’s jaw tensed. "The council cleared her. She risked everything to protect Arcadia."

"Yes," Lucien agreed calmly. "And I respect that. I even admire it. But admiration and alliance are not the same."

Damian stepped closer. "This isn’t just about politics—"

"But politics is all it will ever be, Damian," Lucien said sharply, his voice echoing against the walls. "When you wear the crown, your heart is no longer your own. I warned you that one day you’d have to choose between what you want and what Arcadia needs."

"I can give her both," Damian said. "She strengthens us."

Lucien’s eyes narrowed. "And what of Lord Aldric?"

Damian’s expression didn’t change, but his voice dropped. "Selene’s father."

"One of the wealthiest men in the eastern provinces," Lucien said slowly. "Owner of three grain ports. Sponsor of half our army. And the man I promised to consider—consider, mind you—marriage ties with, in exchange for military financing, trade routes, and support against the northern fringe."

Damian’s mouth tightened. "You made a deal on my future."

"I made a plan," Lucien said coldly. "Before you had power. Before you had eyes for a woman whose existence could shatter everything we’ve built."

Damian stepped back, just once. The silence that followed held decades of tension between king and prince.

Lucien turned toward the window, his tone quieter now. "A match with Selene ensures protection. Stability. Food for winter. Funding for the walls. Ships for the south."

"I know what it brings," Damian said. "But it’s built on an illusion. You don’t need to trap me in that kind of alliance. Not anymore."

"And if you choose love," Lucien said, turning back to face him, "you may lose half the support we’ve fought for."

Damian met his gaze evenly.

"Then we build something better."

Lucien didn’t respond right away. His eyes searched his son’s face—seeing the man he’d raised, the warrior he’d shaped, the ruler he hoped to forge.

"Do you love her?" he asked at last, voice low.

"I do."

Another pause.

Lucien exhaled and stepped away from the window, heading toward the council doors. "Then I won’t stop you."

That was all he said.

Not an approval. Not a blessing.

Just... a space left open.

And for Damian, that would be enough.

—

Far across the palace, beneath the veil of the growing twilight, Selene stood in the corner of the gallery as Zade read the slip of parchment in his hand.

His expression hardened.

"You’re sure this is real?" he asked, voice hushed.

"I had someone trace it," Selene said smoothly. "It was obtained from his private chambers, before Lord Luther was arrested. That name—Evelyn Matthews—was written in one of his old journals. Alongside Evelina Drewstone."

Zade looked up sharply. "You think they’re the same person?"

"I think Luther knew something about her," she said carefully. "Something she hasn’t told anyone. Not even Damian."

Zade’s gaze darkened. "What do you want from me?"

Selene smiled slowly. "Nothing, Your Highness. Just thought you deserved to know who you’re really falling for."

Zade folded the paper once, then again.

His hands trembled—just barely.

"I’ll look into it," he said.

Selene turned to leave, her silk skirts swaying as she moved.

"Selene," Zade said suddenly.

She paused, looking back.

"If this blows up in your face," he warned, "don’t drag me down with you."

"Oh," she said lightly, "I don’t plan to fall."

—

Evelina stepped out of Damian’s chambers, stretching sleep from her limbs and blinking against the afternoon sun pouring through the corridor windows.

She hadn’t meant to nap so long, but her body must have really needed to rest and relax.

She had just started down the hall, trying to locate Damian, when Jasper rounded the corner at full speed and a pale face.

"Lady Evelina!" he called, breathless. "You need to come now. Prince Damian’s been injured."

Her heart dropped. "What?"

"He’s in the training yard. He’s asking for you. Urgently."