Sold To The Cruel Prince-Chapter 21: Theron’s Plan

Theodore hesitated for a moment before nodding.

As he passed Aveline, he placed a gentle hand on her shoulder, giving it a reassuring pat before following Theron out of the hall.

The room grew quiet once they left.

Aveline remained seated. Her head slowly lowered again, her gaze fixed on her hands resting in her lap. Her fingers were tightly interlocked. She stared at them without really seeing them.

Something inside her had gone still. She felt strangely empty, as if the fight inside her had simply... ended.

For the first time in years, she stopped thinking about escape... about hope.

She simply sat there, resigned.

And... quietly broken.

-----

Theodore closed the door behind him.

For a moment he simply stood there, staring around the study.

A wave of nostalgia washed over him so suddenly that it almost made him forget why he had come.

His uncle, technically his first cousin once removed, used to sit in the armchair behind the desk, buried under stacks of documents and ledgers. Lord Adelric Willowgrave had always worked late into the evenings, muttering about taxes and tenants while pretending not to notice when Aveline stole the sweets meant for guests.

His aunt would usually sit on the couch beside the tall library shelves, a book open on her lap and a delicate teacup in her hand. Sometimes she read quietly. Sometimes she would look up and start a conversation with her husband, and before long, the two of them would be laughing together about something only they seemed to understand.

The room had always been warm... Alive.

But now...

Almost everything looked the same.

The same heavy curtains framed the tall windows. The same dark wooden shelves still lined the walls. Even the desk remained exactly where it had always been.

Only a few valuables were missing.

And yet the room felt completely different. It was as if something invisible had been stripped away.

The light.

The laughter.

The warmth that once filled this place.

It was gone.

Before he realized what he was doing, Theodore stepped forward and placed his hand on the desk. His fingers trembled slightly as grief tightened his chest.

"It’s not what it used to be..." he murmured.

"Then bring it back," Theron said quietly from behind him. "Bring it back to its old glory."

Theodore turned sharply to look at him. "What do you mean?"

"Uncle Adelric always wanted you to inherit the Willowgrave estate," Theron replied.

Theodore gave a bitter scoff. "Inherit what, exactly?"

His voice carried the exhaustion of the past five years.

For half a decade, he had lived here not as a guest, not even as a servant, but as something worse. Every day had been about survival—about avoiding punishment, enduring hunger, and hoping he could still help Aveline somehow.

Somewhere along the way, the boy who had once grown up with noble lessons and family expectations had disappeared. He wasn’t sure that the boy even existed anymore.

He knew what his uncle had wanted. But he didn’t think he deserved that trust now.

Theron walked slowly around the room and stopped beside the armchair behind the desk. The once-rich damask fabric had begun to peel in places, worn down by years of neglect.

He rested his hand on the back of it.

"His soul will find peace if this estate is placed in the right hands," Theron said.

A faint twitch crossed his brow. Lord Willowgrave had been a good man. A better man than most nobles Theron had known. He had never deserved the end he had met.

Theodore scoffed again, though this time the sound carried more anger than bitterness.

"Will his soul ever find peace while Aveline is suffering?" he asked.

His eyes hardened as they met Theron’s.

This man, who had bought Aveline like property, had the nerve to speak about her father’s peace?

"Aveline is my responsibility," Theron said firmly. "You don’t need to worry about her."

Theodore pressed his lips together.

He studied Theron’s face carefully.

The boy he remembered had always been guarded, but this man was something else entirely. Theron’s dark eyes were steady, almost frighteningly calm, as if he had already thought through every possible outcome.

As if he had already made his decisions.

Theodore exhaled slowly.

"Are you going to marry her?" he asked.

-----

Aveline slowly lifted her head and glanced around the dining hall.

A few guards were watching her openly. The rest pretended to mind their own business, though she knew better than to believe they weren’t paying attention.

She sank deeper into her chair.

Sulking would have been a generous way to describe how she felt. The truth was much simpler.

She felt empty. Completely empty.

But sitting here staring at the table would not change anything.

Perhaps... Perhaps she should simply accept her fate.

She was a slave now. That much would not change.

Yet, compared to the past ten years, her life had undeniably improved. She was given proper meals—hot meals, at that. She had clean clothes that didn’t smell of damp cellars and punishment rooms. No one beat her. No one forced her to scrub floors until her hands bled.

She barely had to do anything at all.

But... There was still something she could not stop thinking about.

The Crown Prince.

Theron had said he bought her for him. What kind of man was he?

Aveline inhaled slowly, steadying herself. Sitting here would not give her any answers. She pushed her chair back and stood. The reaction was immediate. Several guards straightened like startled statues.

Aveline sighed quietly.

So, Theron had warned them. Of course, he had.

"I’m visiting my parents’ graves," she announced calmly.

It wasn’t entirely a lie. Before Theron dragged her away to wherever he planned to take her, she wanted to see them once more.

Her gaze shifted toward a dark corner of the hall.

"You," she said, pointing directly into the shadows. "You’ll come with me."

The guards exchanged confused looks. There was no one standing there.

At least, no one they could see.

But Aveline walked straight toward that corner without hesitation.

"Don’t you dare slip away, Lord of the Corners," she said sharply, pointing directly at the faint silhouette she could see perfectly clearly.

Most people walked past him without ever noticing he existed. But Aveline had seen him a lot today.

He appeared whenever Theron was gone, blending into walls and curtains, melting into shadows like smoke, quietly watching her.

"Stop, Wall Spider!"

Just as the figure began sliding toward the nearby window, she lunged forward and grabbed him.

The surrounding guards blinked. Half shocked. Half deeply unsettled. They had been standing here the entire time, yet none of them had noticed anyone in that corner.

So, how did she see him?

The man dressed in black, personally assigned by Theron to guard her, stared at Aveline with rare disbelief.

He was proud of his skill. People often mistook him for part of the shadows themselves.

And yet... For the first time in his career, someone had caught him so easily.

And that someone was this strange woman his liege was interested in.

"This way," Aveline said briskly, tugging on his cloak as he tried to slip away again.

The man attempted to pull free.

Unfortunately for him, Aveline had wrapped the fabric around her fingers in such a tight twist that he would have to tear the cloak or break her fingers to escape.

Normally, he would not hesitate to break the fingers of anyone foolish enough to restrain him like this.

But this woman...

He ground his teeth together.

The guards quickly stepped aside as Aveline marched toward the exit, dragging him behind her like a reluctant pet forced to follow, fuming silently.

"What’s your name, Wall Spider?" Aveline asked cheerfully as they walked.

The man remained silent.

"Should I call you Wall Spider?" she continued thoughtfully. "Or perhaps Shadow Rat would suit you better?"

The man’s eyebrows twitched.

For the first time in years... Someone had noticed him and irritated him. And she had called him Wall Spider.

His hand tightened slowly around the hilt of his sword.

Was she mocking him?

Did she also figure out that he was scared of spiders?