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Comrade 20

Comrade 20

CHAPTER 20

Jul 11, 2025

Evangeline paced restlessly within her elegant chambers, her mind racing with the elderly woman’s cryptic warning that echoed like a haunting refrain.

“You shall meet the same fate as she did.”

Who was this mysterious “she”?

It was not the first time the ancient woman had spoken such words. Since her arrival at Prince Maximilian’s court, the old lady had repeated this ominous phrase repeatedly, always regarding her with those clouded eyes, as if she were seeing someone else standing in Evangeline’s place—some phantom from the past.

Evangeline shivered, wrapping her silk shawl more tightly around her shoulders.

She desperately needed answers.

Her instincts whispered insistently that Prince Maximilian harbored secrets, dark knowledge he had not shared with her despite his apparent devotion.

And there was only one way to discover the truth.

The palace was unusually quiet at this late hour, most of the guards conducting their evening rounds throughout the castle grounds, Prince Maximilian still occupied with security preparations following Lady Cordelia’s threats. The timing was perfect for her investigation.

Evangeline moved through the dimly lit corridors with careful, silent steps, her breath shallow as she approached Prince Maximilian’s private study.

She hesitated outside the heavy oak door, pressing her ear against the wood to listen for any sound of movement within. When she heard nothing but silence, she carefully pushed the door open and slipped inside like a shadow.

The study carried the rich scents of aged leather, expensive ink, and something uniquely masculine—a mixture of sandalwood and exotic spices that she had come to associate with Prince Maximilian himself.

The massive mahogany desk was covered with detailed maps, diplomatic correspondence, and scattered notes, but Evangeline’s attention was immediately drawn to the tall wooden cabinet standing in the corner.

If Prince Maximilian was concealing secrets, they would be secured there.

She approached the cabinet with trembling fingers, carefully opening its brass locks. Inside, rows of leather-bound journals and ancient documents sat in neat, organized stacks.

Evangeline ran her fingertips along the worn edges of a black leather journal, one that appeared significantly older than the rest.

Her intuition told her this was what she sought.

She extracted the journal and carefully opened it, her breath catching when several faded portraits slipped out and fluttered to the marble floor.

Evangeline’s heart hammered as she knelt to retrieve them.

The first was a portrait of a woman.

A breathtakingly beautiful woman with long ebony hair, piercing violet eyes, and a soft but hauntingly melancholy expression. She wore the elaborate gowns of nobility, her bearing unmistakably aristocratic.

The second portrait showed Prince Maximilian standing beside her, his arm possessively draped around her slender shoulders. They appeared intimate, devoted—far too close for mere acquaintances.

Evangeline’s stomach clenched with sudden dread. Who was this mysterious woman?

She frantically scanned the elegant script within the journal, her eyes darting over carefully recorded entries and significant dates.

1821 – The First Meeting 1823 – The Betrothal Ceremony
1824 – The Royal Wedding 1826 – The Growing Darkness 1827 – The Disappearance

Evangeline’s pulse spiked dramatically. Disappearance?

Before she could turn the page to read further, the unmistakable sound of approaching footsteps echoed through the corridor outside.

Her stomach plummeted with terror.

She froze completely, listening intently, her mind scrambling desperately for an escape route.

Prince Maximilian.

She recognized the distinctive rhythm of his confident stride immediately.

Panic surged through her veins like liquid fire. She lacked sufficient time to replace the journal properly—she had to conceal it somehow.

Without conscious thought, she tucked the journal and portraits into the folds of her voluminous silk gown, pressing them against her waist.

The heavy fabric was thick enough to disguise the bulk, but her heartbeat thundered so loudly she feared he would hear it echoing through the stone walls.

The study door swung open with ominous finality.

Prince Maximilian stepped inside, his imposing frame blocking any hope of exit, his dark eyes narrowing immediately with sharp suspicion.

“What brings you to this corridor at such a late hour?” he asked, his voice low and dangerously questioning.

Evangeline forced herself to breathe evenly, desperately trying not to appear guilty of any wrongdoing.

“I—I was simply…” she trailed off helplessly, her mind racing for plausible explanations.

Prince Maximilian’s penetrating gaze dropped slightly, lingering on the subtle but noticeable irregularity in the lines of her gown.

Evangeline’s blood turned to ice water.

He knew.

His keen noble instincts and years of court intrigue had made him far too perceptive—he had noticed the concealed journal immediately.

For several tense seconds, he said nothing, merely taking a slow, measured step forward, his eyes locked onto her like a predator who knew his prey was harboring dangerous secrets.

She had to act quickly. Decisively.

Evangeline’s heart slammed against her ribs as she acted on pure, desperate impulse.

She seized Prince Maximilian by the front of his doublet, and pressed her lips to his in a passionate kiss.

Prince Maximilian stiffened instantly, his entire powerful frame going rigid with shock.

Evangeline poured every ounce of her desperation into the kiss, frantically hoping to distract him, to make him forget whatever he had observed.

Prince Maximilian did not pull away from her advances.

In fact, after a brief moment of surprise, he did precisely the opposite.

His strong hand shot to the small of her back, pulling her closer against his chest, his lips suddenly becoming demanding and utterly consuming.

But quickly, she pulled away and fled down the hallway.

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Comrade Summary & Review: Comrade

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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