Chained Hearts: From Slavery to Sovereignty
Chapter 47: What We Were Discussing... It Matters

Chapter 47: Chapter 47: What We Were Discussing... It Matters

As Dorian’s finger traced Cassian’s cheek, they heard urgent footsteps approaching in their direction. The sound was coming from the corridor outside the prince’s chamber.

Dorian immediately created the distance between him and Cassian, and as Cassian wiped the remaining tears on his face, the door swung open with the force.

Zane, who is Dorian’s aide, stepped inside the room; his expression is a mixture of urgency and bewilderment.

"Your Highness," he began but held his voice back when he looked at the scene, his eyes darting between Dorian and Cassian and looking at the unexpected scene before him.

"I need your presence regarding some matters."

Dorian’s brow slightly furrowed as he looked at the urgent tone of Zane.

Zane wondered as he looked at Cassian, It was uncommon for Prince Dorian to have anyone—especially a servant—present in his quarters while he was still there.

The protocols were clear: servants were only allowed in his absence to tidy up, not to linger in his presence.

Zane cleared his throat, trying to maintain his composure. "I—uh, I didn’t mean to interrupt," he stammered, glancing at Cassian with a look of confusion. "I just thought..."

Cassian shifted awkwardly, suddenly aware of the tension in the air. He felt exposed, like a painting on display. "I—um, I should go," he said quickly, his cheeks flushing again.

"Wait," Dorian said, his voice firm yet gentle. He stepped closer to Cassian, his gaze softening. "Just a moment. Zane, can it wait? This is important."

Zane blinks, caught off guard by Dorian’s insistence. "But, Your Highness, it’s about the arrangements for the banquet tonight. The nobles—"

"Can wait," Dorian interrupted, his tone brooking no argument. "I’ll be there shortly."

Cassian glanced between them, sensing the tension and the weight of unspoken words hanging in the air.

Zane’s expression shifted from bewilderment to mild concern as he tried to decipher the dynamics between the two.

"Very well, Your Highness," Zane replied, albeit reluctantly. He hesitated for a moment longer, his gaze flitting between Dorian and Cassian. "I’ll... I’ll wait outside."

As Zane retreated, Cassian exhaled a breath he didn’t realize he was holding. "Sorry, I didn’t mean to—"

Dorian shook his head, his expression softening once more. "You have nothing to apologize for. Zane just doesn’t understand..."

"Understand what?" Cassian pressed, crossing his arms defensively. "That the prince is talking to a servant like me?"

Dorian stepped closer again, a fire in his eyes. "No, Cassian. Understand that it’s not just about titles. You matter to me. What we were discussing... it matters."

Cassian felt a warmth spread in his chest, battling against the embarrassment still fluttering in his stomach. "But people will talk."

"Let them," Dorian replied fiercely. "This prince does not care about anyone’s opinion."

Cassian blinked, his heart racing. Maybe, just maybe, this was a beginning. A chance to break free from the expectations of a world that had always felt too big for him.

Before he could respond, Dorian added softly, "We’ll talk more after Zane finishes with the banquet arrangements. I want to understand this... instinct you have. And I want you to know you’re not alone."

Cassian nodded slowly, feeling a spark of hope ignite again. and start walking towards the door. He was aware of the heated gaze on his back, but he did not turn around and just straight walk outside.

Cassian opened the door and nearly collided with Zane, who stood waiting just outside. Startled, he quickly bowed his head, his cheeks still flushed from the earlier conversation.

"Um, excuse me," he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper before he hurried past Zane, his heart racing as he made his way down the corridor.

Zane watched him go, puzzled by the sudden flurry of emotion and the awkwardness that lingered in the air.

"What just happened?" he murmured to himself, shaking his head in confusion. He glanced back at the door, then took a deep breath and stepped inside.

As Zane entered, he was met with an empty room and the lingering warmth of the moment that had just passed.

Dorian’s voice echoed softly in his mind, and he couldn’t help but wonder what had transpired between the prince and the servant.

Unbeknownst to both of them, a maid stood hidden just around the corner, her heart racing as she watched Cassian hurry away. She clutched her handkerchief tightly, her knuckles turning white with anticipation.

The scene felt secretive, something she wasn’t meant to witness, but the thrill of it sent excitement coursing through her.

As Cassian rounded the corner, the maid quickly stepped back into the shadows, her breath catching in her throat.

She had seen enough—enough to spark her curiosity and enough that would earn her praise from her mistress later. This wasn’t just ordinary gossip; it was a revelation that could change things in the palace.

Without a moment’s hesitation, she turned and fled down the corridor, her footsteps quickening as she rushed to deliver her message.

The exchange between the prince and Cassian had not gone unnoticed, and she knew this piece of news would be valued by those in power.

Zane stepped further into the room, his expression a mix of concern and bewilderment. "Your Highness, what was that all about with the servant boy? How can you allow him here? As far as I know, you never let anyone—"

Dorian, lost in thought, didn’t immediately respond. He walked toward the window, his gaze fixed on the distant figure of Cassian as he hurried away, his heart racing with conflicting emotions.

The sun cast a golden hue over the gardens, but all Dorian could see was the fleeting image of Cassian—the way he moved, the way his presence seemed to linger even in his absence.

Zane’s voice broke through his musing. "You shouldn’t do this, Your Highness. The boy is too innocent. He hasn’t done anything to deserve this... whatever it is you’re feeling."

Zane’s tone was urgent; it was laced with worry.

"His end shouldn’t be like all your previous... playthings."