Evangeline felt as though she couldn't breathe. The walls of her room, so beautiful and bright just hours ago, now felt like they were closing in on her. The fresh air of the balcony was the only thing that could keep her from completely shattering. She leaned on the stone railing, her hands clutching the cold surface as she tried to suppress the tidal wave of emotions that threatened to drown her.
"Just like them," she whispered to the empty night sky. "Just like all of them."
Her heart ached with a familiar, searing pain. She had allowed herself a moment of hope, a moment of weakness, and it had been instantly used against her. She was a fool to have believed a prince, no matter if he was a dragon, could be any different from the people who had raised her.
A soft, mournful mewling sound broke through her thoughts. A small, sleek black cat with eyes like glowing rubies jumped onto the railing beside her. It was unlike any cat she had ever seen. Its fur was like spun midnight, and its movements held a quiet grace that was almost human. Evangeline, starved for a living creature that wouldn't judge or betray her, gently reached out a hand. The cat didn't flinch. Instead, it rubbed its head against her fingers, purring a low, comforting rumble.
Evangeline sank to the floor, pulling the cat into her lap. She stroked its smooth, silky fur, the simple act of comfort a balm to her wounded heart. "I'm so stupid," she confessed to the small creature. "I let myself believe in a fairy tale. I thought he was different. He looked at me with those eyes... those beautiful, golden eyes... and for a moment, I thought I had found my home."
The cat looked up at her, its red eyes full of a strange, knowing wisdom. It mewled softly as if urging her to continue.
"I hate them," she admitted, the words a raw, painful confession she had never dared to say out loud. "I hate my family. They used me. They cast me out. And then, I came here, to a place that felt like a sanctuary, only to be betrayed all over again. I saw him stand with her, comforting her, a woman who had just lied to his face. It hurts... it hurts more than anything."
She hugged the cat to her chest, burying her face in its warm fur. The little cat, a mysterious figure in the night, simply listened, its steady purr the only response it offered. It was a perfect comfort—quiet, non-judgmental, and completely without motive. For the first time, Evangeline wasn't just in a new kingdom; she was truly alone.
Meanwhile, Arion watched her from the shadows. His heart twisted with a pain so profound it took his breath away. He had followed her, worried by her sudden coldness. He had heard her entire confession. Her tears, her raw honesty, her profound sense of betrayal—it all hit him like a physical blow. He finally understood the truth, the one she couldn't tell him to his face. She hadn't been acting cold. She was deeply hurt, believing he had chosen another over her. He had to fix this. But how?
The prince now understands the depth of Evangeline's pain and the reason for her withdrawn behavior.
The Gifts and the Shadow
Evangeline woke the next morning to a single red rose on her nightstand. A perfect, dew-kissed bloom with a note simply saying, For you. It was the first of many such gestures. Every day, a new gift would appear in her room: a silver hairbrush, a book of poems, a delicate silk scarf. Each gift, a silent apology, a desperate attempt to bridge the chasm he had created between them.
But to Evangeline, they felt like a bribe. The gifts were not an offering of his heart, but an attempt to buy her trust. She looked at the expensive objects and felt nothing but a hollow emptiness. She was not a beast to be tamed with treats, nor a lover to be wooed with gifts. Her trust had to be earned, and his silent attempts felt like a calculated move.
She remained calm and polite, her smile a perfect mask. But she kept her distance from Arion, her every action a silent rejection of his gestures. She would nod in thanks for the gifts, but she would not meet his eyes. She would sit at the dinner table, but she would not engage in conversation. She was a ghost in her own life, a woman who existed in the castle but was not truly present.
The only true comfort she found was from the black cat. He would appear every night on her balcony, his red eyes a beacon in the darkness. He would follow her on her solitary walks through the castle grounds, his presence a quiet, calming force. He would sit on her lap as she read, his low purr the only sound that could truly soothe her soul. She would talk to him, telling him her fears, her suspicions, and the constant threat that was Seraphina.
Seraphina's attacks had become more brazen. The gifts from Arion had fueled her rage, and she now saw Evangeline not just as a rival but as an enemy who had to be destroyed.
"He's trying to buy you, you know," Seraphina hissed one day when they were alone in the library. "He thinks he can give you a few pretty things and you'll forget what a weak little human you are. But it won't work. He'll see the truth, and then he'll come back to me."
Evangeline simply looked at her, her expression unreadable. "He can gift me a thousand jewels," she replied, her voice a calm, even tone. "But he cannot give me back my trust."
She walked away, her head held high, leaving Seraphina's furious, defeated face behind. She didn't have to fight. Her quiet defiance was more powerful than any weapon.
The cat prince, who had been sitting quietly on a bookshelf, watched the exchange with his red eyes. He saw the pain in Evangeline's heart and the unyielding strength in her spirit. He saw a woman who would not be broken, no matter how hard they tried. He knew he couldn't reveal his true identity just yet, but he also knew that he had to do something to help her. He had to show her that not all gifts were meant to buy her trust. Some were just an offering of a heart.
The Ruby of the Shadows
Evangeline was in the royal library, a vast, silent hall lined with books that smelled of old paper and forgotten stories. She had found solace in these dusty tombs of knowledge, a place where she could lose herself in worlds far removed from her own. The black cat, her faithful shadow, sat on the table beside her, watching her with his luminous red eyes.
A heavy, leather-bound book on the history of the dragon clans lay open on her lap, but she couldn't focus. Her mind kept replaying the scene with Seraphina. She knew the woman was a viper, but her words still stung. And Arion's endless stream of gifts, which continued to arrive daily, felt like a hollow attempt to smooth over a wound that ran too deep for any jewel to heal.
The cat prince, seeing the turmoil in her eyes, jumped onto her book. He gently nudged her hand, then opened his mouth and dropped a single, flawless red ruby into her palm. The gem was a deep, fiery crimson, a color so rich and profound it seemed to hold the light within it. It was unlike any ruby she had ever seen—it was not cold or hard, but seemed to hum with a gentle, comforting warmth.
Evangeline stared at the gem, then at the cat. "Where did you get this?" she whispered, her voice filled with a stunned disbelief.
The cat simply tilted his head, his red eyes seeming to gleam with a mischievous understanding. He didn't purr, but a silent contentment emanated from him. Evangeline knew this wasn't a gift of wealth or power. It was an offering of trust. A wild creature, a beast in its own right, was giving her something precious, with no ulterior motive. It was a simple, honest gesture that touched her heart in a way that Arion's grand gifts never could.
She clutched the ruby in her hand, the warmth of the stone seeping into her skin. "Thank you," she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. She wasn't just thanking him for the gem; she was thanking him for seeing her, for offering her a comfort that was pure and uncomplicated.
Meanwhile, Seraphina watched from the shadows, her rage a boiling inferno. She had followed Evangeline, hoping to find another opportunity to sow seeds of discord. Instead, she found a scene that made her blood run cold. She didn't know the cat's true identity, but she knew an offering of a heart when she saw one. The sight of the human princess, who was supposed to be a broken outcast, receiving a gift so genuine from a wild creature, was a direct insult to everything she believed in. Her jealousy was now a poison that threatened to consume her.
She had to get rid of the princess. Not just for Arion, but for her own pride.