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Comrade 7

Comrade 7

CHAPTER 7

Jul 11, 2025

The mountain air cut through Evangeline’s traveling cloak like ice as she stumbled along the dangerous path toward the estate in King Edward’s letter.

Her legs ached from days of hard travel, heart still racing from escaping highway robbers that afternoon.

The journey to Meridia had proven more dangerous than she’d imagined. Traveling alone, even disguised as a merchant, made her an easy target for the outlaws haunting these remote mountain passes.

She clutched her leather bag against her chest, breath forming white clouds in the freezing air as she pushed forward through the growing darkness.

King Edward’s sealed letter remained tucked safely in her bodice—her only hope for sanctuary in this foreign land.

Just as warm manor lights appeared through the bare trees ahead, hoofbeats echoed behind her. Her blood turned cold. They’d found her again.

“No, not again,” she whispered desperately, breaking into an unsteady run despite her exhaustion. The estate’s torches flickered ahead like fallen stars, her only beacon of safety in the encroaching night.

The thundering hooves grew louder, closer, rough voices shouting crude threats.

Her legs, weakened by travel and pregnancy, finally gave out. She stumbled and fell hard onto the rocky path, palms scraping against sharp stones.

Evangeline rolled onto her back, heart hammering as mounted figures emerged from the trees. Three men on horseback, faces hidden by shadows but intentions unmistakably violent.

She squeezed her eyes shut, one hand moving instinctively to protect her unborn children, bracing for whatever came next.

The sharp ring of steel being drawn made her flinch, followed by the clash of metal and the wet sound of blade meeting flesh.

Pained cries echoed through the forest, then heavy thuds of bodies hitting ground.

“Are you injured?” a deep, commanding voice asked.

Evangeline’s eyes snapped open. A tall figure stood above her, sword gleaming with fresh blood in the moonlight.

He was powerfully built, with broad shoulders and a presence that spoke of noble breeding and military training. Dark hair tousled from battle, piercing eyes assessing her with a warrior’s keen attention.

She scrambled backward instinctively, mind still reeling. For all she knew, this man could be another threat—perhaps leading a different band of thieves.

“What brings you to these lands?” he demanded, voice carrying unmistakable authority. “State your business.”

Her racing thoughts struggled to process his words. The formal tone, the educated accent—this was no common thief.

Relief flooded through her as she realized her salvation had arrived. With trembling hands, she fumbled for King Edward’s envelope and extended it toward her rescuer.

“What is this?” he asked, accepting the letter with obvious curiosity.

“From… His Majesty King Edward,” she managed to whisper, voice hoarse from exhaustion and fear.

The nobleman broke the royal seal, eyes scanning the contents with growing intensity.

His stern expression transformed into something unreadable—surprise, recognition, perhaps even wonder—before he looked back at her with renewed interest.

“Guards!” he called out sharply.

Two armored men appeared from the shadows as if they’d been watching, hands resting on sword hilts.

“Escort the lady to the manor immediately,” he commanded, tone allowing no discussion. “See that she’s treated with utmost care and respect.”

Evangeline blinked in surprise as the guards approached with gentle deference, offering assistance rather than seizing her roughly.

“Wait—” she began, confusion clouding her features.

“You’ll be properly cared for,” the nobleman assured her, manner now protective rather than threatening. “You’re safe now. No harm will come to you under my protection.”

Inside the magnificent manor, Evangeline found herself surrounded by unexpected warmth and hospitality.

Servants bustled about with genuine concern, drawing her a hot bath, providing fresh clothes befitting her station, and offering the first proper meal she’d had in days.

She’d hesitated at first, uncertain whether to trust such kindness after her journey’s horrors, but hunger and exhaustion soon overcame caution.

She ate gratefully, the rich stew and fresh bread soothing both her frazzled nerves and empty stomach.

As she finished her meal in the elegant dining hall, the nobleman from the forest entered. His presence seemed to command the very air, causing servants to bow respectfully before quietly withdrawing.

Evangeline quickly rose, offering a proper curtsy despite her borrowed clothes.

“Thank you,” she said softly, voice still trembling with emotion. “Thank you for welcoming me into your household, my lord.”

The man crossed his arms, a faint smile playing at his lips. “This isn’t my household alone.”

Evangeline looked up, confusion evident in her weary features. “I’m afraid I don’t understand, my lord.”

“It’s our household,” he said simply, dark eyes holding secrets she couldn’t yet fathom.

Her brow furrowed as she tried to comprehend. “Our household?”

He nodded slowly, expression growing serious. “Because you’re my sister.”

The spoon clattered from her nerveless fingers, jaw dropping in complete disbelief. “Sister?”

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Princess Evangeline of Morwyn sat in the quiet waiting room of the royal physician’s office, her mind a whirlwind of fear and fragile hope. The grand palace, bathed in soft afternoon light, felt both like a home and a cage. She had been married to Crown Prince Sebastian of Valdris for three years, but their union was nothing more than a political arrangement—an alliance forged by their fathers to secure peace between their lands.

From the very beginning, Sebastian made it clear that his marriage to Evangeline was purely out of duty, not affection. They slept in separate chambers, exchanged only polite words in public, and maintained a cold civility that masked the emptiness beneath. Evangeline had once dreamed that time might change things, that she might earn his heart, but years of distance had buried that hope deep inside her.

Recently, however, her body had begun to change. She felt nauseated in the mornings, dizzy, and uncommonly tired. These signs, though subtle, stirred a small flame of longing within her—a desperate wish that she might finally be carrying his child. Perhaps, she thought, a baby could soften Sebastian’s heart and give meaning to their lifeless marriage.

When the physician, Master Aldrich, appeared at the doorway, his kind smile gave her both comfort and dread. He led her into his study, a cozy room filled with the scent of herbs, the warmth of a crackling fire, and shelves of ancient medical texts. Evangeline sat nervously as the old man took a sealed parchment from his desk.

With a gentle voice, Master Aldrich delivered the news that would change everything: “Your Highness, I’m delighted to tell you that you are indeed expecting.”

Evangeline’s breath caught in her throat. Her trembling hands broke the royal seal and scanned the words written neatly across the parchment. Pregnant. She was truly with child. Before she could even absorb the shock, Master Aldrich continued, beaming with joy—she was not carrying just one baby, but twins.

The revelation sent a rush of emotion through her—relief, disbelief, joy. Twins! Two heirs for the royal family. The weight of that realization made her dizzy, but it also filled her with warmth and purpose. For the first time in years, she smiled with genuine happiness. Perhaps this was the miracle she needed to mend what had long been broken.

In that moment, she imagined Sebastian’s face lighting up with pride and excitement. She pictured him embracing her, maybe even thanking her. The thought filled her with renewed courage. She thanked Master Aldrich graciously and insisted that she would tell Sebastian the news herself. This moment, she decided, must belong to them alone.

Walking through the grand marble corridors of the palace, Evangeline’s heart felt light for the first time in years. Servants bowed as she passed, but she hardly noticed them—her mind was focused only on Sebastian and the life growing inside her. She wanted to see him, to share the joy, to believe that maybe, just maybe, love could still bloom between them.

As she approached the door of Sebastian’s private study, her steps quickened. She called out softly, “Sebastian! My lord, I have the most wonderful news to—”

But her voice faltered.

Through the half-open door, Evangeline froze at the sight before her. Her husband stood with Lady Cordelia Ashworth, daughter of the Duke of Greymont, wrapped in his arms. The woman’s fiery red hair cascaded over Sebastian’s shoulders as he held her close. Evangeline’s heart stopped when she saw him tilt Cordelia’s chin upward and press his lips to hers—a tender, passionate kiss filled with the warmth and love she had begged the heavens for all these years.

It was everything she had ever wanted—and it wasn’t hers.

For a long, unbearable second, Evangeline could only stare. The parchment with her pregnancy confirmation still trembled in her hand. Then, in a broken whisper, she said his name: “Sebastian…”

The Crown Prince turned sharply, surprise flashing across his features before being quickly masked by his usual calm. Cordelia paled and stepped back, though Sebastian’s arm lingered protectively around her waist.

“Evangeline,” he said evenly, as though she were a stranger interrupting him, “what brings you here?”

Her throat tightened. She forced herself to stand tall, even as tears burned behind her eyes. “I… I live here,” she managed, her voice quivering. “I’m your wife.”

Sebastian’s cold gaze didn’t soften. “Is there something you need?” he asked, the same way he might address a court official.

Something inside Evangeline broke. Just minutes ago, she had been radiant with hope, ready to tell him that she carried his children—the future of his line. But now, staring at the indifference in his eyes and the woman in his arms, she realized the truth she had avoided for too long.

He would never love her. Not even their unborn children could change that.

A calmness settled over her—a cold, regal resolve that masked the chaos in her chest. Straightening her shoulders, Evangeline met his gaze with all the dignity her title demanded.

“Yes, my lord,” she said clearly. “There is something I need.”

Sebastian raised a brow, perhaps expecting her to plead, to cry, to beg for an explanation. Instead, she spoke words that shattered the silence of the study.

“I want an annulment.”

Both Sebastian and Cordelia froze. The shock in their eyes was almost satisfying. Cordelia gasped aloud, pressing a hand to her mouth, while Sebastian’s expression turned dark and unreadable.

“What did you say?” he asked in a dangerously quiet voice.

Evangeline’s chin lifted higher. Her hands no longer trembled. “You heard me perfectly,” she said. “I want our marriage annulled.”

In that instant, the timid princess who had once waited for scraps of affection was gone. What remained was a woman who had found her strength—not through her husband’s love, but through the pain he had caused.

Inside, she knew she carried the next heirs of the throne—his heirs—but she would not allow that to bind her to a man who treated her like a political pawn. She would raise her children with dignity, even if she had to walk away from the palace to do it.

The silence that followed was heavy, filled with the crackle of the fireplace and the unspoken consequences of her declaration. But Evangeline didn’t wait for a reply. Gathering her skirts, she turned toward the door, her heart broken yet unburdened.

Her steps echoed through the marble halls as she walked away from the man who had never seen her—and toward the freedom she was finally claiming for herself.

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