Divorce The Duke, Marry The King!
Chapter 102: I let him stay

Chapter 102: I let him stay

"I cannot speak of my past, but I need you to know that I never meant to harm you," he said.

"Why can you not tell me?" She demanded, frustration spilling from her lips. "Do you not see how unfair this is to me? To suffer for a past I know nothing of?" She had tried to hold back, to be patient but she could no longer contain it. How could they coexist if they kept secrets from one another?

"You do not understand," he murmured. "My past is not one I take pride in. It is a stain upon me, one I wish I could wash away...but I cannot. And just when I believed I had left it behind, it returned to haunt me. How can I bring myself to speak of such shame?"

Belle saw the pain in his gaze, and it unsettled her. What could his past hold that it tormented him so deeply? That he could not even share the weight of it with the woman he claimed as his own?

"I am not here to judge you," she said, her voice softer now. "We all carry wounds from the past. You know mine, I never shied away from them. I let them strengthen me, drive me forward." She searched his face, reasoning with him. "Our past does not define us, Hezekiah. It is what we do next that matters. But if you keep burying it, how will you ever be free of it?"

He studied her for a moment, then asked, "And if I told you that I have hurt a lot of women? That I am not the noble man you believe me to be? Would you still not judge me?" His voice had hardened, as though daring her to turn away.

She met his gaze unflinchingly. "Did you hurt them for fun?" She asked.

The question caught him off guard. She did not recoil, did not ask who they were, only why. Should that not have been her first concern? The identity of those he had hurt?

"Yes," he answered, watching her closely, waiting for disgust to flicker in her eyes.

But instead, she pressed on. "Why? Why did you do it? Were you forced? Was it against your will?"

He exhaled sharply. "Belle, you should fear me, not seek to understand me."

She sighed, leaning back. "And you believe it right to ask for my heart, to tell me you love me, only to turn away because you are too afraid to face your past?" Her voice trembled with anger. She wanted to scream at him, to demand why he had led her down this path, why he had entered into an agreement with her only to shroud himself in secrets.

How could any union thrive on lies, silence, and weakness?

If she could turn back time, back to the moment she first met Quinn, she would. And perhaps then, she would have sought the truth about him before foolishly offering herself to him.

She knew there was more to Quinn than people realized, and though it was too late to uncover all his secrets, she would be content if she could learn of his past before they met.

"Will you grant me time?" Hezekiah asked, stepping closer. He took Belle’s hands in his, his voice earnest. "I will tell you everything once you return triumphant from the war. Let us begin anew then." His eyes pleaded with her, and for a moment, she found herself at a loss for words.

Seeing how determined he was to keep his silence, she resolved to respect his wishes and wait until he was willing to speak.

"I cannot promise to be the same Belle you once knew upon my return... if I return at all," she murmured, lowering her gaze.

His brows furrowed. "What do you mean?"

She took a deep breath, weighing her words. "I was with Quinn last night after I left your chambers," she admitted. "He stayed by my side through the night."

Hezekiah’s confusion darkened into a frown, anger clouding his mind. The image of Quinn and Belle together—close, intimate—seared through him.

"He merely stayed by your side, did he not? Nothing else transpired?" His voice was strained, as if he were bracing himself for her answer.

"No, Hezekiah!" She lifted her gaze to meet his, withdrawing her hands from his grasp. "I wanted him there. I allowed him to embrace me. I let him stay." She hesitated before adding, "Hezekiah, I..."

"Enough." He cut her off sharply. "I do not care, so long as nothing beyond that occurred. I will wait for your return." He refused to let her say the words he dreaded most.

"But..."

Before she could finish, a guard entered, halting their conversation.

"Your Majesty, the Queen Mother requests your presence," the guard announced.

Belle swallowed her words as Hezekiah turned away. "Tell her I shall be there shortly," he replied.

The guard bowed and exited.

"I have much to prepare for the war," Hezekiah said, his tone distant. "If I can, I shall see you before you depart." Without another word, he turned and left, his hurried steps betraying his eagerness to escape.

Belle sighed, a gnawing unease settling in her chest. The next time they spoke, it might no longer be as a man to his woman, but as a man to a woman.

Beyond the hall, Hezekiah’s fists clenched as he strode away. When the anger within him grew unbearable, he halted abruptly and drove his fist into the stone wall.

Quinn. Always Quinn. Every time.

It was as if Quinn had become the better man in every way. How had they gone from allies to rivals? It infuriated him. But this was war now, Quinn had declared it, and Hezekiah was ready to fight.

He would never lose Belle to him. Even if he had to imprison her at his side, he would.

"I will make you call only my name," he vowed.

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