Page 78 of Unravelled
Mira stared. Then scoffed. "The whole court knows that.”
Ren didn’t blink. “Then tell me,” he said quietly, “what do you know of the Queen when she found out about my impending birth?”
Mira blinked, caught off-guard. Her lips parted before her mind could catch up.
“The story?” she asked, tone flat with disbelief. “She withdrew. Wouldn’t hold court for months." Mira glanced toward Tharion, confusion flickering in her eyes, but he didn’t look at her. His gaze stayed fixed on the ground.
"No one saw her, but a few."Mira continued, slower now. "My father for one. The Crowned Betrothed. They ruled in her place while she recovered.”Ren didn’t speak. Tharion shifted, the wooden floor groaning beneath his boots.
Her mind reached back, fast and trembling, like fingers brushing against something half-forgotten. She caught it. And this time, it didn’t slip away.
???
The outer chamber of the Great Hall pressed in around her, all stone and silence, its walls heavy with portraits that had watched generations come and go. Miraslowed, her steps faltering beside Ren, her eyes drawn to the towering canvases that lined the chamber like sentinels.
Gilded frames caught the flickering torchlight, their painted faces ageless and serene. A dynasty laid bare in oil and pigment, each expression carved from legacy. She felt the weight of it as she always had. That oppressive sense of lineage, of stories told too often to question. And yet, something was different this time.
Ren stopped before one portrait. She followed the line of his gaze. King Caelric and Queen Sarelle. The familiar, untouchable image.
Caelric, a picture of nobility, stood draped in dark blue and gold, his eyes calm and unwavering. And beside him, Sarelle. Crimson silk wrapped around her like flame, her eyes poised and unreadable. Her beauty had always been regal in a way that always felt a little otherworldly.
Mira studied the painting, a flicker of unease rising in her chest. Ren’s silence made her skin prickle.
“Compare me to my father,” Ren asked.
She turned to him in surprise, but said what seemed obvious. “You look exactly like him.”
Ren said nothing. Just waited. Her gaze returned to the portrait, her focus narrowing. She scanned Caelric’s face. The square jaw, the slope of his cheekbones, the arch of his brow. All mirrored in Ren’s.
Ren nodded, barely.
Her head snapped toward the painting. Sarelle’s gaze stared back at her, calm and quiet. Her chest tightened. She took a step back, the world shifting beneath her feet.
Ren, always on the periphery. A noble, not royal. Not quite. Because they hadn’t let him be. Because the truth had been hidden. Because… Mira's eyes met Ren's, and in that moment, everything in her stilled.
The secret crashed into her like cold water. A prince hidden in plain sight. Sarelle’s son. The rightful heir.
???
Her voice cracked when she spoke.
“You’re her son.” She took a step back, her hand searching for the wall. She didn’t feel the stone. Only the door. “You’re Sarelle’s son,” she said again, softer now. The truth split the room wide open. It lay between them like a blade on the table, impossible to ignore and just as deadly.
Ren didn’t move. “Yes,”
Her breath came fast and sharp, as if she had been pulled through icy water. The warmth of the memory evaporated, leaving only the chill of betrayal seeping into her bones. Ren stood before her, his posture taut, every muscle drawn tight as if bracing for impact.
His face remained a careful mask, but the tremor in his voice betrayed him. “Mira.... ”
“I knew... that's why she...” The words tore from her, raw and jagged. Her hands shook, and she pressed them against the door handle, desperate for something solid, something real.
Ren stepped forward, worry etched across his face. The regent was gone. In his place stood a man weighed down by guilt, his eyes fixed on her like he was afraid she might break.
“Mira,” he began, voice catching on the weight of her name. “I wanted to tell you. I meant to. But every time I reached for the words, I saw what it did to you, what it could cost you again, and I ...”
She stared at him, fury and disbelief twisted tight behind her ribs. “That wasn’t your choice to make,” she said, her voice low.
Tharion shifted beside her, then stepped closer, a quiet attempt at comfort. But she barely noticed. Her entire being was locked onto Ren.
