My Husband Chose Her Over Me Novel – Chapter 12
Kaela still wore the look of disbelief like a second skin, her eyes darting between me and the scroll my mother had just placed back on the table. Her hands trembled ever so slightly, though she kept her voice low and measured.
“But… but that’s impossible,” she whispered, as if saying it too loudly would shatter the room. “We’ve known Elara for three years. She’s your wife, Caden. Her father was that man—the steward of the Westwood Province. If she was a princess like you just said… surely there would’ve been announcements, formal preparation, royal decrees…”
“King Dorian kept her identity secret,” Mother said coolly, her voice tight and edged with something bitter. “He positioned her close to us without revealing her bloodline. Likely as a precaution. Or a test.”
I stood near the hearth, the heat of the flames barely touching the ice blooming inside me. I ran my hands through my hair, fingers catching at the roots as if the sting might tether me to some clearer version of this madness.
“We were played,” I muttered, barely able to hear myself over the pounding in my skull. “All of us. And now we’re going to pay the price for our arrogance.Father knew all along but never told any of us.”
Each word struck deeper. Every time I’d looked through Elara rather than at her… Every moment I let court snub her… Every time I turned away when she reached out.
I had married a woman with a country in her blood and fire in her spirit, and I treated her like an obligation.
“I have to find her,” I said suddenly, pushing off the wall and heading for the door.
Kaela scoffed. “And say what? ‘Sorry I treated you like dirt, but now that I know you’re important, I’d like to try again?’” Her voice was sharp, cruel—her usual veneer of court politeness stripped bare.
I turned to her, fury simmering just below my skin. “At least I see what I did wrong. You’re still sitting here, scheming your next insult.”
Mother stepped in between us before it could go further. “Enough. Both of you. Caden, you can’t just run to Elara without thinking. We must handle this carefully.”
“I don’t care about strategy anymore!” The words exploded from me before I could stop them, reverberating off the chamber walls. “Don’t you see? Strategy is what got us into this mess! All the calculating, the deals behind closed doors, the manipulation—like everyone’s just a name on parchment instead of a person with a heart.”
My chest heaved. I felt stripped bare, raw with realization. “I need to speak with her. Not as a prince, not as a husband. Just… as a man who’s wronged her. A man who knows he may not deserve forgiveness, but still has to try.”
Mother looked at me, something shifting in her expression. Maybe it was fear. Or disappointment. Or perhaps, for the first time, the weight of what we’d all done had started to press on her, too.
The chamber door creaked open, and a page stepped in hesitantly.
“Your Highness… Lady Isolde insists she won’t leave until she speaks with Prince Caden.”
Kaela stood, brushing invisible dust from her skirts. “I’ll entertain her,” she said, her voice sugar-laced with venom. “You deal with… this.”
I didn’t watch her go. I barely heard the door close behind her.
“This has to stop,” I said to Mother, my voice calmer now, but no less resolute. “The arrangement with Isolde, the manipulations, the constant interference in my marriage. It ends now.”
She frowned, arms crossed tightly. “Caden, you don’t understand the complexities—”
“No,” I said firmly, cutting her off, “you don’t understand. I’m not your chess piece. I’m the future king. And I will decide how to lead, and who stands beside me.”
Mother stared at me for a long, brittle moment. I saw something flicker in her eyes, not anger, not exactly. Something more reluctant. A quiet acknowledgment of the shift she could no longer stop.
“And what will you decide about Elara?”
The question felt like a blow to the chest. What could I decide? The woman I had ignored, dismissed, and hurt, because I was too blind, too proud to see what stood in front of me now had every reason to walk away.
“I don’t know,” I said softly. “But I know this: I need to make it right. Not because of what she is. Not because she’s King Dorian’s daughter. But because I failed her… and she deserves more than I ever gave her.”
I turned, moving toward the door. “I’m going to find her.”
My footsteps echoing against the marble corridor like the tolling of some old verdict. Each stride carried more certainty, more regret, more urgency.
I had to find Elara. She had walked past me earlier when I saw her in front of father’ private chamber and I hadn’t seen her around since then. One of the maids had told us that she had left with a carriage and the thought of her leaving and never coming back scared me.
I passed tapestries depicting the great victories of our line, portraits of kings and queens who’d ruled with iron and silk. I wondered how many of them had broken hearts to secure a throne. How many of them died knowing they’d chosen power over love.
I turned a corner sharply, and collided with someone.
My hand flew out, catching her before she stumbled.
Lady Isolde.
She looked up at me, her expression a mixture of surprise and something far more calculated.
“Didn’t Kaela just tell me you were not around?” she asked, tilting her head slightly, eyes narrowing with practiced concern. “Are you avoiding me?”
She held my gaze a beat longer than necessary before adding, with a knowing edge:
“Are you avoiding me, Prince Caden?”