Betrayed By My Mate, Claimed By His Lycan King Uncle
Chapter 128: Can you always come to see me, Rhys?

Chapter 128: Can you always come to see me, Rhys?

Back to the Crest Moon Pack~

The morning sun cast golden rays across Anaya’s face, gently stirring her from sleep. She blinked slowly, stretching out one hand as a familiar scent drifted into her nostrils. Her fingers reached out instinctively, searching the bed and then landed on something soft and warm.

Rhys.

Her hand had found his head, resting quietly on the edge of her bed.

Tears welled in Anaya’s eyes as she gently combed her fingers through his hair, marveling at its softness and the reality of his presence. The tears slipped silently down her cheeks.

’I’m glad you’re alright, Rhys,’ she thought to herself, her heart aching. ’I missed you so much. I think about you constantly. I’m just so relieved I was able to save you. I love you more than words can express. Even if you don’t remember me right now, I believe you will one day.’

As her silent thoughts drifted, Rhys began to stir. He raised his head from the bed groggily, blinking against the light.

At that same moment, the door creaked open and Kisha walked in, carrying a bowl filled with water and napkins already soaked inside.

"You’re awake, young master, my princess," Kisha said softly, her tone polite as she set the bowl carefully on a nearby stool. She offered Rhys a respectful bow.

Rhys rubbed the back of his neck and glanced around in mild confusion. "So I actually slept here the whole night?" he muttered to himself. His eyes narrowed. "I’m not screwed, am I? If I was, the guards or one of the servants would have come knocking long before now."

He paused, furrowing his brows in thought.

"Which must mean..." he reasoned silently, "Her Highness didn’t check my room or send for me. That’s the only reason I’m not in trouble yet."

His gaze suddenly snapped toward Kisha, sharp and full of irritation.

"You..." he began, his voice low and edged with anger. "If you’re tired of living, just say so."

Kisha stiffened slightly, taken aback, but said nothing.

"I never said I wanted to die, did I?" Rhys continued, his tone growing harsher. "So why, when you saw I had dozed off, didn’t you wake me up? Do you have any idea what Her Highness would do to me if she finds out I wasn’t in my room last night?"

His jaw tightened, frustration etched into every word. "Are you trying to get me killed?

"I’m sorry, Your Highness," Kisha said with a soft bow, her voice filled with both apology and quiet conviction. "But Princess Anaya could only sleep peacefully while holding your hand. It’s been so long since I’ve seen her rest so soundly... I couldn’t bring myself to let go of you last night. I knew the risks, and yes, I was prepared to face the consequences if the Queen found out. I alone will take responsibility and tell her what happened."

Rhys turned his gaze slowly toward Anaya, who remained unaware of the conversation unfolding around her. Her face bore a faint smile, her lips curled gently, simply because she could smell Rhys’s scent lingering near her.

"Whatever. Anyways I’m going now. I’m not willing to die yet. You can tell your princess that." Rhys voiced out as he ran a hand through his hair in frustration.

Without wasting another moment, Kisha moved closer to Anaya. With practiced ease, she gently began to trace words with her finger across Anaya’s back.

"It’s time for Master Rhys to leave before the Queen finds out he spent the night here. He’s actually the Queen’s consort. Now I understand the pain you feel in your heart... But don’t worry. I’ll inform Her Majesty of everything and let her know that Rhys cannot be her consort."

As Kisha finished the last word, a look of disbelief and pain spread across Anaya’s face. Her hand quickly moved to return a message on Kisha’s back.

"He’s my aunt’s consort? How is that even possible? Where did they even meet? This can’t be happening... Anyway, you must tell my aunt immediately. Rhys is not someone she should take as a consort."

Suddenly, a sharp voice cut through the tension in the room.

"What exactly are you both doing?" Rhys asked, his tone laced with irritation. His eyes narrowed suspiciously as he stepped closer. To be honest I’m only still here because of your princess condition and because she’s a princess."

Kisha turned to face him, startled. But Anaya continued to write on Kisha’s back.

"Ask Rhys if he can always come to see me. I want him to come to my manor regularly. I want to be near him."

Kisha stood upright, her expression neutral yet searching as she addressed Rhys. "Her Highness would like to know if you could visit her regularly. She’s grown fond of you and wishes to see you often, here in her manor."

Rhys’s brows furrowed, and a spark of anger flared in his eyes.

"I now believe that you’re deaf as well as foolish," he snapped, glaring at Kisha. "You heard me clearly....if the Queen finds out I spent the night here, she’ll have my head. And now you’re suggesting I start visiting the Princess regularly? You’re trying to set me up, aren’t you? That’s what this is. A trap. But I’ll have you know whatever game you’re playing, you’ve failed, miserably!"

Rhys turned toward the exit, his fists clenched, his frustration boiling over.

But before he could take another step, Kisha called out boldly, "What will you do if the Queen arranges your marriage to the Princess? She can give you to her, and then you’d have no choice but to stay in the manor."

Rhys froze mid-step. Then, he turned slowly and scoffed loudly, shaking his head in disbelief.

"You must be completely insane, you lowly maid," he spat. "The Queen loves me. She would never give me to the Princess. I’m sorry to say it, but your Princess is not only blind...she’s deaf and mute as well."

"How dare you insult the Princess?!" Kisha’s voice rang with fury now. Her fists trembled at her sides. "Are you so tired of living that you’d dare speak about her like that?"

"Oh yes, I insulted her," Rhys sneered. "And what’s she going to do about it? She can’t hear me. She can’t even speak, let alone report me. If this little scheme of yours was designed to find a husband for her, someone to spend his life caring for her, loving her despite her condition then I’m not your man. And you better be careful too, maid. I am the Queen’s consort. Just one word from me, and your miserable little life is over. So take this as your final warning to stay away from me. If you see me, walk the other way or you’ll regret it."

With that, Rhys stormed out of the room, his fury leaving a thick silence in his wake and sending a wave of disbelief through Kisha’s entire being.

As the scent of Rhys began to fade, Anaya gently tugged at Kisha’s hand, pulling her closer. She had sensed his departure, and her expression was tinged with concern.

"Where’s Rhys? Did he agree to come see me often?" she asked, her fingers slowly tracing the question on Kisha’s back.

Kisha swallowed hard. Her throat tightened, and before she could stop them, tears slipped down her cheeks.

The man responsible for her Princess’s condition... is now the one hurting her again, using the very silence she lives in to wound her further.

Kisha hesitated. Her heart was heavy, but then she slowly traced a response on Anaya’s back.

"He promised to come whenever he has time."

A wide smile bloomed across Anaya’s face. It had been so long since she had smiled like that, so long since laughter had danced across her lips. And all because she could still smell Rhys and believe he cared.

Kisha knew what she had done, she had lied. But she would lie again if it meant preserving Anaya’s fragile happiness.

She would lie every day if it helped her Princess smile again, at least until the Queen released Rhys for good.

"I should help you wash your face now, Your Highness," Kisha said, once again tracing the words onto Anaya’s back. "And afterwards, we can go to the Queen."

Anaya smile widened more, nodding her head eagerly in approval.

"I want to make everything Rhys loves," she wrote excitedly on Kisha’s back. "I’ll make a handkerchief for him, bath soap, shampoo... I’ll even cook for him. I want him to use the things I made with my own hands. Maybe then... maybe he’ll start to remember me."

Kisha held back the ache in her chest, masking her sadness with a forced smile. She gently traced her response:

"Oh yes, he will. It will help him remember. Every little thing you make will bring his memories closer."

Anaya smile deepened more.

And Kisha, her heart breaking silently nodded along, vowing to protect that smile for as long as she could.

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