BOUND BY FATE: ENTANGLED WITH MR HELL - Chapter 46: Chapter 46

Rosa’s POV
The palace had grown quieter, but not in the comforting way. It was the kind of quiet that made your skin itch—the kind that let whispers crawl behind your back. People didn’t say much, but they didn’t need to. Their eyes did all the talking.
And they were all looking at me.
I heard it from a pair of court ladies, whispering near the hallway.
> “He finally acknowledged his mate.”
I didn’t ask who they meant. I didn’t need to.
The words stuck to my chest like thorns. My tea sat cold on the table. I hadn’t touched it in an hour.
I tried not to care. I tried to pretend it was just politics, just a name and a title to keep the nobles content. But my stomach twisted all the same.
Every time I closed my eyes, I saw his face. The way he looked at me that night—the way he held me like I was something fragile and important.
So what changed?
I stood and paced the room, running a hand through my hair. It was no use trying to keep calm. My heart wasn’t listening.
A soft knock came at the door.
“Come in,” I said, a little too quickly.
Paige stepped in with her usual bright energy. She carried a basket of folded linens and set them down near the dresser. “Everything alright?” she asked, her eyes scanning me.
I offered a small smile. “Just thinking too much.”
She smiled back but didn’t push. That was one of the reasons I trusted her. She gave me space when I needed it, and quiet company when I didn’t know how to ask.
I hesitated. “Do you remember the historian you once mentioned to me? The one who helped you trace your family roots?”
Her eyes lit up. “Yes—Master Olric. He lives on the east side of the palace grounds, by the garden courtyard. Why?”
“I want to meet him. Quietly. No one else needs to know.”
Paige blinked. “Alright. I can set it up. Tomorrow morning, maybe?”
I nodded. “Thank you.”
She gave a short bow. “Of course, Your Majesty.”
When she left, I sat on the edge of my bed and let the silence settle again. But this time, it brought something with it.
A memory.
Flashback
The wind smelled like spring. I was a child—maybe seven. My mother knelt in the garden, trimming roses with a small silver blade, and I sat beside her, playing with fallen petals.
My father walked over with that gentle smile he always saved for her. He knelt beside us, brushing my hair behind my ear.
> “You’ve got fire in you,” he said, tapping my nose. “But don’t forget to think before you burn things down.”
Mother laughed softly. Then she turned to me, serious now.
> “Rosa,” she said, “life won’t always be kind. People will try to decide things for you. But never forget what you want. Fight for it.”
She touched my hand and held it tightly.
> “No matter what, be strong. Promise me.”
I opened my eyes, the memory fading like smoke, but the feeling stayed behind.
Maybe I didn’t know what was going on around me. Maybe I wasn’t sure who I could trust. But I did know one thing:
I was tired of sitting still.
Even if I had to walk this path alone, I was going to find answers.
Not for revenge.
But for myself.