Sold To The Cruel Prince-Chapter 29: My Aveline!

Theron noticed that the silence between them had changed. And he didn’t like it.

Silence didn’t suit her.

It never had.

When they were younger, she had clung to him relentlessly, like that one persistent mosquito that refused to die no matter how many times you tried to swat it away. She had been constant, unfiltered, and impossible to escape noise. Questions, complaints, laughter, pointless chatter... she filled every quiet space without asking for permission.

Back then, he had found it irritating.

Now... He missed it, more than he cared to admit.

Because that noise, that endless, thoughtless presence of hers, had done something he hadn’t understood at the time. It had kept his mind from wandering into darker places. It had drowned out the thoughts he didn’t want to face: the ones that whispered he was alone, that he had no one, that he didn’t belong anywhere.

She had never allowed that silence to exist long enough to consume him.

Now, there was no shortage of voices around him.

Whispers.

Praises.

Formal greetings and careful words, all polished and measured, all directed at him with respect he had once thought he wanted.

And yet... None of it filled the space she had left behind.

It was her incessant nagging, her unrefined, unfiltered presence, that he found himself missing the most.

Strange.

That the very thing that used to irritate him beyond reason had become the one thing he couldn’t replace.

Aveline shifted slightly, drawing his attention back to her. He had leaned closer at some point without realizing it, his gaze fixed on her in quiet scrutiny, the concern he hadn’t voiced reflected plainly in his eyes.

She noticed it, of course. And just as quickly, she turned away from it.

She didn’t want to think about herself.

Whatever his intentions were, whatever this... change in him meant, there was one truth she couldn’t deny.

He had helped her, at the slave market, and after with Mortimer’s family... even with Theodore.

The weight of it pressed down on her, steady and undeniable.

She should be grateful. Nothing more.

She forced that thought into place, steadying herself against it like it was the only solid ground she had.

Anything beyond that...

Was not for her.

Honestly, if it came to it, she could accept spending the rest of her life as his slave. If that was the price for what he had done for her, for her family’s estate, then it was a price she could pay without regret.

Yes.

That was enough.

"I never asked you this," Aveline said, lifting her gaze to meet his. There was something quieter in her now, more restrained, as if she had carefully folded away the parts of herself that once spilled so freely. And yet, she smiled. "Did you find your parents?"

Her fate, she knew, was already decided.

But at the very least, she could still know him and understand the parts of him that existed beyond whatever place she held in his life.

Theron stilled.

He studied her for a long moment, something unreadable flickering behind his eyes. She was hiding something. He could feel it.

But, for now, he let it be.

Because despite everything... She was smiling again.

And for reasons he didn’t care to examine too closely... That was enough.

And about his parents—

Theron didn’t want to talk about them.

If it were up to him, he would have buried that part of his life entirely, sealed it away where even memory couldn’t reach. It wasn’t just the weight of being the Crown Prince that suffocated him, though that alone would have been enough—the endless expectations, the rules, the invisible chains that came with a title he had never asked for.

It was the loneliness. The kind that lingered even in crowded halls, the kind that followed him to the very top, where everyone bowed, but no one stayed.

He hated it.

He hated living a life that was never his own, where every choice had to be measured against the needs of millions. Hated the quiet that came with it, the kind that no amount of noise could truly fill.

"They found me," Theron said at last, his voice even, though something beneath it tightened. "That’s why I left."

At that age, when the word orphan had been thrown at him like a stone, the news had felt like salvation.

A family.

His family.

When they told him he couldn’t tell anyone yet, that he had to come with them quietly and would understand everything later, he hadn’t questioned it.

He had followed. Blindly.

His gaze shifted to Aveline.

She hadn’t spoken, but the question was there, clear in her eyes.

"I didn’t say goodbye you, because..." he hesitated briefly, the memory catching somewhere in his chest. "They took me in a hurry. I thought... if I stayed back, even for a moment, I might lose them."

That part was true.

It had all happened too fast. Her father had been there, standing beside him, and when he gave a single nod, Theron had gone without hesitation, without doubt.

Without looking back.

He had a family. And he didn’t wanted to lose them, not even for a second, not even for her.

The realization tightened his throat.

He hadn’t said goodbye. He hadn’t given her even that much. And somehow, that was the part that lingered the most, sharper than all the rest.

It might have been easier to bear if she had been happy, if she had lived well, moved on, forgotten him as easily as he had once forgotten to turn around.

But that hadn’t happened.

And the weight of it sat heavily in his chest.

He felt like a failure.

And that... That was why she could never know the truth.

He couldn’t let her believe that he had chosen that life over her so completely that he had erased her without a second thought.

Aveline watched him quietly, her expression softening as she caught the sadness he hadn’t tried to hide.

"I understand," she said gently.

Ten-year-old Aveline would not have. She would have complained, argued, called him heartless, demanded to know why she hadn’t mattered enough.

But she wasn’t that girl anymore.

Now, she understood.

He had found his family. Of course, he had run toward them. Of course, he hadn’t looked back.

She had been his past. They were his future. And people... people always ran toward their future.

"Do they treat you well?" she asked, her voice light, almost practical. "Are they rich?"

To her, those were the things that mattered most: food, clothing, a place to sleep without fear.

Theron stilled, just for a moment.

She had accepted it. Truly accepted it. There was no accusation in her voice, no lingering resentment, no quiet bitterness hiding beneath her words. Only concern. Only relief.

A slow, unfamiliar warmth spread through his chest.

He had expected something else. Something heavier. But this...This was gentler than he deserved.

"I never lacked anything," he said.

It wasn’t a lie. But it wasn’t the truth either.

"That’s good," Aveline nodded, her smile small but genuine. "I’m happy for you."

And she meant it.

That was what struck him the most.

Theron moved closer without quite realizing it, drawn by something he couldn’t name, and placed his hand over hers.

She didn’t pull away.

Instead, she looked at him with that same quiet smile, the one she had been wearing more often lately, the one that felt softer, more distant somehow.

"Do you remember Spotty?" she asked suddenly. "The puppy I loved?"

"You chased him around too," Theron replied, a faint trace of amusement surfacing despite everything. She had always had a strange way of showing affection—relentless, overwhelming, impossible to ignore.

Aveline huffed softly. "Do you remember my father telling me he sent him to a farm to catch rabbits?"

Theron frowned slightly. "Yes..."

Her smile faltered.

"He didn’t," she said quietly. "Spotty got caught under a carriage. He died. My father had lied to me."

The words were simple. Too simple.

"When you said he sent you to your family..." she continued, her voice thinning slightly, "I thought..."

She stopped.

Her throat moved as she swallowed, but it didn’t quite hold.

Before she realized it, her eyes filled, the tears gathering faster than she could push them back. She lowered her head, as if that alone could hide it.

"At least... you lived a good life, Theron," she said softly, her voice trembling despite her effort to steady it. "I’m happy for you..."

She meant that too.

And somehow, that made it worse.

Theron felt something in his chest twist sharply, painfully, as he looked at her... at the way she forced herself to be content with so little, the way she chose to be happy for him even when she had nothing for herself.

Before the last of her words had even settled... He moved.

I shouldn’t.

The thought came clear, sharp, and undeniable. But it didn’t stop him.

His grip tightened slightly against her chin.

This woman...

My Aveline.

Aveline felt his hand at her chin, and then... He closed the distance.

Her breath caught as his lips met hers, warmly and firmly.

It was real. His lips... on hers...

And for one terrifying second, as the shock settled... she didn’t want him to stop.