MARKED FOR PRETEND - Chapter 19: Chapter 19

She had not meant to go far. The halls of the palace stretched long and silent, and something about the quiet called to her that day, maybe it was boredom, maybe it was restlessness, or maybe it was that lingering ache, the one that came with not being looked for.
Chelsea moved quietly through the west wing at least, she thought it was the west wing. Or the north. She still hadn’t memorized the turns. Every velvet curtained doorway looked the same.
She opened one, stepped inside.
Closed it again.
Wrong room.
Another. A study. A cold sitting room. A hallway full of broken mirrors.
And then—the library.
She didn’t mean to stop, but something made her.
The library had always felt too hollow, too quiet like it didn’t want her inside it. But that morning, her legs wandered before her thoughts caught up. And suddenly she was there.
Alone, among marble shelves and dust-kissed tomes, her fingers skimmed titles she couldn’t pronounce. Books too old to matter. Or maybe too sacred to touch.
Her mark tingled under her sleeve.
She closed her eyes, exhaled.
Then... “I never took you for the reading type.The voice startled her.
Low. Deep. Disinterested.
Kaden.
He was seated behind one of the heavy tables, half in shadow. He sat half turned toward her, sleeves rolled, the collar of his shirt slightly open, a thick book spread out before him but completely ignored. His expression unreadable. As if he’d been there long before she arrived watching.
“And what type did you take me for?” she asked, trying to keep her voice steady.
He didn’t answer immediately. Just looked at her like she was another puzzle he didn’t care to solve.
“Do you read often?” she tried again.
Still no answer.
Chelsea cleared her throat. “You once said something about the mark. How did you know I had it, that first morning?”
His expression didn’t shift. But something in the air did. She took a step closer.
“It glowed when I touched it,” she whispered, “but only when you were near. And now… it hasn’t stopped.”
Still nothing.
So she pushed. Carefully. Clumsily.
“Why me?” she asked. “Out of all the girls in that room… why me? " What am I to you?”
Kaden’s fingers curled around the edge of the book like he was bracing himself.
“Do you remember the scroll?” she asked, quieter now. “Was I really your choice? Or did someone else put my name there?”
He stood up.
Fast. Sharp.
“Enough.”
The word cracked through the space like lightning.
Chelsea flinched, but didn’t back away.
“Why won’t you just answer me?” she asked, chest tightening. “Don’t I deserve to know what this is? What I am to you?”
"A mistake.”
She blinked.The word dropped like a stone, Chelsea felt it in her chest.
“A mistake?
“You’re a question I never wanted to ask,” Kaden said tightly. “And a bond I never wanted to feel." His voice was colder now.
She did not breathe, did not move.
He stepped closer, then stopped himself like the floor between them was dangerous.
“Whatever you think this is..” he said coldly, “it’s not going to happen.”
She took that in slowly, like poison she hadn’t expected to swallow.
“You don’t feel it?” she asked, voice cracking. “When I’m near?”
He said nothing.
“Because I do.” She looked at him, eyes wide. Vulnerable. “It’s real. I don’t know what it means yet, but I feel it.”
His eyes were unreadable.
"No I don't" he replied
“I don’t love you.”
Her breath stopped.
That was it. The final cut.
She swallowed. “I didn’t ask you to.”
The silence swelled. Stretched.
The words were worse than a slap. Worse than silence.
Chelsea nodded once. “Good,” she said, even as her throat burned. “Because I don’t know what love is.”
He said nothing.
And that made it worse.
“I just thought—” she started, then stopped. No point.
The room was suddenly too cold. Her mark flared beneath her sleeve like it was ashamed.
She turned to leave.
Outside the library, the hallway blurred. Marble beneath her bare feet, cold walls, stone silence.
Her mark still burned.
She pressed a palm to it, as if that would make it stop.
“Whatever you think this is…”
She clenched her teeth.
He doesn’t want you.
And still… she hated that she noticed he hadn’t come looking for her since.
She hated that part most of all.