Divorce The Duke, Marry The King!
Chapter 62: About yesterday

Chapter 62: About yesterday

"I..." she began, sitting upright and peeking through the curtain, but Quinn had already left the side of the carriage.

Sinking back into her seat with a sigh, she pouted, frustration evident on her face. Why wouldn’t he tell her anything? Since when had he started obeying Hezekiah’s commands so dutifully? The secrecy only deepened her suspicions. What could they possibly be hiding from her?

The carriage soon halted, signaling their arrival at the wedding venue. Hezekiah appeared promptly, extending his hand to assist her. As his gesture brought back the memory of last night, Belle quickly averted her gaze, hesitating for a brief moment before placing her hand in his and stepping down.

As long as she avoided his eyes, she assured herself, everything would be fine.

Sliding her hand around his elbow, they began their walk toward the grand entrance. All attention shifted toward them as they approached, and the announcer’s voice boomed:

"The King of the Werewolf Kingdom! Hezekiah Thorne!"

The trumpets blared, and guards stepped forward ceremoniously to welcome him. Belle’s heart skipped a beat at the overwhelming attention. Her hand trembled slightly, though Hezekiah, preoccupied with greeting the crowd, appeared unaware of her unease.

She hoped he wouldn’t notice her shaky hands until the very end, hating herself for being so incapable. Would he see her as weak? Incompetent? She couldn’t even endure the stares of a crowd, how could she ever hope to stand by his side as Queen?

"Your Majesty!"

"Your Majesty!"

"Your Majesty?"

The greetings echoed endlessly. Belle’s legs felt weak beneath her, and her pulse quickened with each curious stare directed at them. If she had known how daunting this welcome would be, she might never have accepted his hand earlier. But what had she expected? He was the King, the most important figure in the kingdom. Of course, this was natural.

"Who is the lady beside him?"

"Has he finally chosen a mate?"

The murmurs rippled through the gathering, their curious eyes making her feel exposed.

Just as she was about to falter and retreat, the noise began to subside. They finally entered the wedding hall, leaving the attention behind. Belle let out a quiet sigh of relief, grateful for the silence. She could only hope the rest of the event would be less daunting.

At their designated seats, Hezekiah courteously helped her settle before taking his place beside her. The hall’s calm ambiance eased her nerves, and her trembling hands stilled.

Though a few attendees in their section cast discreet glances their way, Belle noticed that these were far more subdued, without the buzzing gossip that had surrounded them earlier. Belle also noticed the familiarity of the gowns the ladies were wearing except that they were in different colors, but same styles. Hezekiah wasn’t lying after all and it made her feel better knowing that.

"Now that the King is present, let the wedding commence," the host declared.

The ceremony began, with the bride and groom standing before the priest. The sight stirred a wave of memories in Belle, taking her back to her own wedding with Quinn.

A thought struck her. Why hadn’t Hezekiah attended her wedding? It had been a grand affair, attended by countless nobles and even ministers from neighboring towns. Surely he would have known about it. As King, he had access to every detail in the kingdom with just a word. So why had he been absent?

"Shall we attend the mating ceremony?" Hezekiah inquired, a warm smile gracing his lips as he awaited her response. Yet Belle, lost in thought, did not hear him.

"Belle!" He called, gently shaking her shoulder. Startled, she blinked back to reality.

"Forgive me, what did you say?" She asked apologetically.

"I asked if we should attend the mating ceremony," he repeated patiently.

She nodded. "Of course. I have always been curious about one—apart from my own," she jested, earning laughter from them both.

As their chuckles subsided, Hezekiah leaned forward slightly, his tone softening. "About yesterday..." he began.

Belle’s eyes widened, her heartbeat quickening. Without giving him a chance to continue, she abruptly rose. "I need to excuse myself, Your Majesty," she blurted, already walking toward the exit before he could respond.

"Belle!" He called after her, his voice restrained to avoid drawing attention. He signaled to Steve, motioning for him to discreetly follow her. Though Quinn undoubtedly had his eyes on her, Hezekiah was restless. With the vampires still posing a threat, Quinn might be pulled away to handle urgent matters.

He sighed, leaning back in his chair. Why was she avoiding him? Did she despise the kiss? Had he been too forward? The thought gnawed at him. How had Quinn managed to captivate her so thoroughly without even kissing her? Meanwhile, he, her supposed husband, struggled to secure her affection.

If only he hadn’t agreed to that absurd deal Quinn proposed, perhaps they would already be bonded. But now, with their mating date merely a week away, Hezekiah feared she might withdraw entirely. As long as Quinn lingered in the shadows, nothing would go as planned.

---

Having escaped the hall, Belle glanced behind her, relieved to find no one following. She realized she was now in a quiet corridor far from the main event. Intrigued, she considered exploring it.

Just as she took a step forward, her stomach rumbled loudly, a reminder of the single meal she had eaten the day before.

Resolving to find food first, she spotted a turning and followed it, hoping to encounter a maid or stumble upon the kitchen.

After several minutes of wandering, her eyes lit up at the sight of a trolley filled with an assortment of dishes, evidently prepared for someone. She hurried over, plucking a grape from the trolley and popping it into her mouth.

"Forgive me!" She muttered to no one in particular, snatching up a potato and then another bite of food. As she munched, a faint noise reached her ears. She turned her head sharply, noticing another path branching off the corridor.

Curiosity piqued, Belle tiptoed forward, craning her neck to sneak into the corner. But the sight that greeted her stopped her in her tracks.

The grape in her hand slipped to the floor, and she stood frozen, staring at the scene before her, horrified and unable to move.

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