bookpower Chapter 90 The One Who Was Never Meant to Return
Chapter 90 The One Who Was Never Meant to Return
Ed walked through the long hallways of the royal palace.
He had just finished breakfast with the royal family, where they had discussed their journey in detail.
Yet, something felt off. The king and queen had listened intently, but there had been no surprise in their eyes—no moment of realization, no deep curiosity. It was as if they already knew everything.
Of course they did. Ed thought, suppressing a bitter smile.
They wouldn't have left us all alone. Not without watching.
But now, Queen Aeloria had called for him personally. Alone to her room.
His mind whirled with curiosity - what could she possibly want with him?
A sly grin spread across his face as he thought to himself, "This is like a dream come true."
He reached a large door, Taking a slow breath, he knocked.
Knock. Knock.
"Come in," came the queen's voice—calm, composed.
Ed stepped inside. The room was bathed in soft light, filtering through tall windows draped with silver-embroidered curtains.
Queen Aeloria stood near a desk, her hands resting lightly on its surface.
"Hello, Ed." She paused, her eyes studying him carefully. "Or rather... Caspian Arcwright."
A silence fell between them.
Ed's breath hitched for a split second before his mind forced him into motion.
He didn't react outwardly—no dramatic change of expression, no panicked movement. Just a slight narrowing of his eyes.
So they found out.
His thoughts raced.
Why wouldn't they? It was foolish to think he could have hidden forever.
But the question now was—how would he respond? Would denying it be smarter? Feigning ignorance?
He met her gaze, keeping his expression neutral. "I'm not sure what you mean, Your Majesty."
Aeloria sighed, shaking her head slightly, as if she had expected that response.
"You don't have to pretend, ed. I am not here to confront you, nor am I here to force anything out of you. You have lived among us for years. You have protected my child. Whatever past you carry, I do not see you as an enemy."
Ed remained silent, watching her carefully.
There was no accusation in her voice, no hostility.
Only quiet understanding. He let out a slow breath.
"Then... why bring this up now?" he asked carefully.
Aeloria leaned against the desk. "Because I want to understand. Not as a queen demanding answers, but as someone who has come to care for you. You've always carried yourself as if you were running from something... I never pressed, but I knew. And now, I finally know why." She studied him, then added softly,
"But I want to hear it from you. If you are willing."
Ed looked away for a moment, weighing his options. He had no obligation to explain himself. But at the same time, this wasn't an interrogation.
Her jaw clenched as she replayed the clip again.
The logical part of her told her that it was just a dance, a diplomatic event, nothing more.
But the ache in her chest said otherwise.
She had mourned him. For years.
The day the news of Caspian Arcwright's death reached her, her world shattered.
She remembered the suffocating silence that followed.
How the words didn't seem real at first. How she waited—prayed—for someone to tell her it was all a mistake.
But no one did.
She had never been the type to cry in front of others, yet that day, something inside her broke.
She refused to eat. Refused to speak. Locked herself away in her room, unable to face the world that had so cruelly taken him from her.
Caspian had been her first real friend, the one person who had looked at her not as the daughter of the Redmond family, not as a noble or a future warrior, but as Fianna.
And the world took him away.
Why him?
Why not his brothers?
Why not someone else?
Why did it have to be him?
Her grief slowly hardened into something else.
Rage.
She had always known the Arcwright family was cruel, but after his death, after what she learned—the way they treated him, the way they discarded him—she realized something.
Caspian didn't just die. They killed him.
And for that, they would pay.
She trained like a woman possessed, pushing herself beyond her limits.
She shattered expectations, climbed the ranks, and honed her skills until she was no longer just Fianna Redmond, the daughter of a noble house—she became something else.
But after five years, when she had finally learned to live with the ache, when she had buried the dreams she once had—she saw him.
Alive.
Breathing.
Dancing.
Her heart lurched violently in her chest as the realization settled in.
Caspian was alive.
The cold, desolate world she had grown used to suddenly flooded with color again.
Her vision blurred, and for the first time in years, her lips trembled—not in anger, not in pain, but in something she had long since forgotten.
Hope.