Silent Crown: The Masked Prince's Bride-Chapter 289: Has He Truly Given Up?

Leroy noticed her eyes, and then straightened, brushing a damp lock of hair from her face, as if he didn’t tease her just now. "Better?" he asked.

Lorraine’s eyes fluttered shut for a moment, her smile lazy, content. She wasn’t disappointed he stopped. She knew he didn’t stop. That man could never stop. He always managed to tease her to the edge before he took it to the next level. She had learned to let him do his thing and go with the flow.

"Perfect," she echoed his earlier word. Then, opening one eye, she added with a smirk, "But next time you go hunting, I might prepare your bath instead."

He arched a brow. "To help me undress, too?" That. That smirk...

"Only if you’ve fallen down a mountain," she said sweetly.

That earned her a rare laugh, quiet and real. And for a moment, the storm outside ceased to affect her. And of course, he joined her soon after. The bathwater rippled as he settled behind her, his arms slipping around her waist. Lorraine leaned back, resting her head against the familiar warmth of his chest.

Outside, the storm howled softly against the walls, but in here, it was quiet. Too quiet.

His hand slid, almost instinctively, to her belly. It had grown rounder now. The movement should have comforted her, should have been tender, protective. But that feeling again crept between them, invisible but suffocating.

That small, almost imperceptible hesitation. That tightening in his breath. That... silence.

Lorraine swallowed hard, trying not to stiffen. She had felt it before, this strange, unspoken weight in him whenever his palm rested there. It wasn’t hatred. No, she could never believe that of Leroy. He would never hate their child, the one who would bear her blood.

But it wasn’t pure love either. It was something deeper, darker. Fear, perhaps. Or guilt. Something unnamed that lived behind his eyes when he thought she wasn’t watching.

He would worry about their child one moment, check her food, her rest, her warmth, and then, in the next, fall into that terrible silence. And she could feel it radiating off him, as though the thought of their child scared him more than death itself.

Lorraine didn’t ask why. She didn’t dare. She hadn’t gathered the courage yet, to know the reason. Sometimes, pretending something didn’t exist helped a lot more than looking behind the curtain.

Instead, she did what she always did when that shadow passed between them.

She took his hand and guided it up, away from her belly, pressing it firmly against her chest, against her heartbeat. Then she turned to look at him, her eyes soft, her lips curved into a smile that came straight from her soul.

A smile that said I trust you.

Even when every instinct in her screamed she shouldn’t. Even when her heart whispered warnings, she refused to hear.

Her voice was low when she spoke. "Do you feel that?" she asked, guiding his palm against the steady rhythm beneath her ribs. "It beats for you."

Leroy’s expression faltered. The look in his eyes, love, fear, and something else entirely, shook her more than she’d ever admit.

But she smiled again anyway, because she loved him. Because she had always loved him more than reason, more than safety, more than herself.

And for now, that had to be enough.

"What are you planning on doing?" he asked, his thumb brushing against her cheek as he cupped her face. His touch was gentle, grounding.

There he was... her husband again. The moment she distracted him from the thought of their child, he returned to her, as if she were his center of gravity. 𝑓𝑟ℯ𝘦𝓌𝘦𝘣𝑛𝑜𝓋𝑒𝓁.𝑐ℴ𝓂

"So," she said, tilting her head, a teasing glint in her eyes. "What are you chasing this time? Another deer? Or should I be worried about some gazelle?"

Leroy’s lips twitched, amused. Did she really think he would ever go after another woman? Even the thought was absurd. Lorraine knew it, and that was what made the teasing fun.

"Gaston is dead," he said instead, tone turning quiet. "They’re rewriting the laws to make Lucia take the throne."

Lorraine’s smile faded. She looked at him closely, really looked, searching for some flicker of pain, jealousy, resentment. His sister was about to take the crown that was rightfully his. Surely it must hurt?

But his face was unreadable, calm as ever. It made her wonder if he had truly given up on his birthright and his instinct to be a leader.

"You do love your sister," she murmured, though something bitter stirred in her chest. It wasn’t jealousy, no, it was something more complex. Pity, maybe. Because she knew his sister didn’t love him the same way.

She had never liked Lucia. The woman had that polished smile people worshipped, and she was insanely smart, but Lorraine remembered the small cruelties others didn’t see. The way Lucia would pinch a baby just to hear it cry, then cradle it in her arms, cooing as if she’d been its savior all along, for others to see. A serpent in silk.

Leroy twirled a strand of Lorraine’s hair around his finger, watching her with quiet amusement. He didn’t need her to speak, he could already tell what she was thinking. He’d always known she disliked Lucia. And though he once adored his sister, even he couldn’t deny the cracks that had begun to show.

"Did you know," he said after a pause, "it was supposed to be Lucia who was to be sent as the hostage?"

Lorraine raised a brow, her tone sharp with playful disbelief. "And you took her place? How heroic of you, my white knight."

Leroy laughed softly. "Can you imagine her as a hostage royal? I can’t. I’m glad it was me."

Lorraine met his gaze for a long moment. "I’m glad it was you, too," she said quietly. Otherwise, she would never have met him.

"Lucia is a snake," she added simply.

Leroy chuckled at that, his shoulders shaking. Lorraine rested her head against his chest, closing her eyes. She didn’t push the subject further. There was no point in speaking ill of someone he loved so deeply.

And yet, as she drifted in the warmth of his arms, a thought lingered in the quiet of her mind. All the prophecies, every last one, had named him as the ruler who would unite the lands.

Even if they changed the laws, even if Lucia took the throne... It would not last.

The mountain winds howled outside, but inside, beneath the dim candlelight, Lorraine’s faith in fate, and in the man who held her, burned steady and unshaken.

After the bath, Leroy helped her out of the bath with unhurried care, the water trailing down her skin like strands of silver. Leroy reached for the towel before she could, drying her off in slow, steady motions. His touch was a mixture of lust, reverence, almost fragile, as if he feared she might shatter.

He slipped the nightgown over her shoulders, smoothing the creases as she lifted her arms. Lorraine watched him in silence, her heart tightening at the familiar gentleness. For all his power, he was so painfully human in moments like this.

When they finally lay down, her head resting against his chest, his heartbeat steadied her own. His arm found its way around her waist, hand splayed over the curve of her belly, that wordless gesture she had grown used to, half affection, half hesitation. His hand didn’t linger on her belly for long, for it cupped her soft mounts soon after, gently kneading.

Lorraine’s lips curved and she closed her eyes, enjoying the sensation and the heat rising in her abdomen. His lips spread kisses on her neck and lips. After a long teasing, as she was about to break, he spoke, voice low, almost reluctant.

"So," he murmured, his thumb brushing the fabric of her gown, "what’s your plan now that you’ve found the village?"

Lorraine knew exactly what he was doing. To stop just at the edge to make her spill the truth.

She lifted her gaze slightly, catching the reflection of lamplight in his eyes.