Sold To The Cruel Prince-Chapter 30: Humiliation

Aveline froze the moment his lips touched hers.

Her eyes, still wet with tears, widened in shock, her breath catching so abruptly it felt as though her body had forgotten how to function altogether. For a second, she stilled, as she could only feel the unfamiliar warmth pressed against her lips.

And then... She saw him.

His eyes were closed, his expression unguarded in a way she had never seen before, and at the corner of his lashes, there was the faintest trace of wetness. His hand still held hers, and that warmth slowly seeped into her, grounding her in a way nothing else could.

Something inside her softened.

In that moment, everything else slipped away.

Her past, her fears, what this meant, what it didn’t... every worry that had weighed her down until now dissolved, as if they had never existed to begin with.

All that remained was this.

Him.

The warmth she had unknowingly longed for.

Her eyes fluttered shut, and without thinking, she leaned into him, into the quiet certainty of that fleeting moment.

Theron felt that faint resistance that had held him back, disappeared, and something in him gave way along with it. His hand moved, sliding to the back of her neck, drawing her closer, deepening the kiss without fully realizing that he was doing so.

It felt... right.

New... But right. Warm. Softer than he expected.

His first kiss.

And when his eyes opened just slightly, when he saw her with her eyes closed, not pulling away, but leaning into him as though she wanted this just as much...

Something in him stirred, stronger than before.

He liked this.

No... He wanted more. More of this feeling. More of... her.

His thoughts began to spiral, chasing something just out of reach, something he couldn’t yet name.

What came after this?

What was more than this?

And then... A voice cut through it.

Are you going to marry her?

Theodore’s words echoed in his mind, sharp and unrelenting.

Theron stilled.

The realization hit him all at once.

What was he doing, starting something he had no intention of finishing?

He pulled back abruptly, the warmth between them breaking as suddenly as it had begun. Turning his face away, he couldn’t bring himself to look at her, his thoughts colliding in a mess he couldn’t untangle.

He couldn’t marry her.

He had promised his parents.

Aveline’s eyes opened the moment he pulled away.

For a second, she simply stared at him, dazed, as if her mind hadn’t yet caught up with what had just happened. Then, slowly, she lifted the back of her hand to cover her mouth, her heart racing so wildly it almost hurt.

Her cheeks burned.

She could feel heat spreading across her skin, her entire body still caught in the echo of that brief, overwhelming moment.

Her first kiss.

Her lips tingled, the warmth of him lingering there, along with something softer, something she didn’t know how to name.

She lowered her gaze, unable to look at him.

"Get ready," Theron said, already turning away.

"We’re going shopping."

She nodded faintly, though she didn’t trust herself to speak.

She didn’t look at him. Didn’t move. Not until she heard the door close.

The sound echoed in the room, sharp enough to break whatever fragile trance had held her in place.

Silence followed, heavy and unforgiving.

Aveline remained still for a moment longer before her lips curved faintly—not quite a smile, not quite anything at all.

Right! This meant nothing to him. And it would mean nothing to her too.

It had to.

Her vision blurred as tears slipped down her cheeks, quiet and uninvited. She wiped them away quickly, almost stubbornly, lifting her head as if that alone could steady her.

"Shopping," she murmured to herself, forcing brightness into her voice that didn’t quite reach her eyes.

It was supposed to be exciting. It should have been. But her chest felt heavy, tight with something she refused to examine too closely. For a moment, she almost let herself cry again.

Almost.

Instead, she lifted her hand and gave herself a light slap on the cheek, as if she could physically knock the weakness out of herself.

"Alright," she whispered, drawing in a breath.

By the time she stood, she had already arranged her expression, smoothing everything back into place, shaping her lips into a smile that looked just convincing enough.

"Shall we?" she said, stepping out of the room as though nothing had changed.

As though everything hadn’t.

-----

Theron walked a step behind her, his gaze fixed on her without quite meaning to.

In the soft spill of morning light, Aveline seemed... lighter. The floral cotton dress she wore fluttered with every step she took. Her hands were clasped behind her back, her posture relaxed, and though she tried to hide it, there was still a faint blush lingering on her cheeks.

She was smiling. It came and went as she hummed under her breath, her steps almost skipping at times, like she had forgotten how heavy the world could be.

She looked beautiful.

The thought came uninvited.

And it stayed.

Theron’s gaze lingered longer than it should have, his mind unwilling to settle. He was still caught in the aftermath of what had happened earlier, the memory replaying itself whether he wanted it to or not—the warmth of her lips, the way she had leaned into him, the way he had—

He stopped the thought there.

Because if he followed it any further, he wasn’t sure what conclusion he would reach. If she turned around right now and asked him why he kissed her... he didn’t trust himself not to do it again.

And yet... She was acting as though nothing had happened.

Does she not mind?

The question unsettled him more than it should have.

For a brief moment, he considered asking her, confronting it, forcing some kind of clarity between them.

But then she turned slightly, her laughter spilling out as she paused to look at something on a nearby stall, and the light caught her just right.

And he decided against it.

She was happy.

That was enough.

For now.

The market stretched out before them, alive with color and noise. Stalls lined the streets, filled with fabrics, trinkets, spices, and everything in between, voices rising and overlapping as merchants called out to passing customers.

Aveline disappeared into it as if she belonged there.

She moved from one stall to another, stopping wherever something caught her eye, talking freely with anyone who responded, her voice bright and animated. It had been years since she had stepped into a place like this, and it showed in the way she absorbed everything around her with unrestrained curiosity.

She tried on hats, tilting her head this way and that as she examined herself, only to laugh and put them back. She picked up jewelry, letting it catch the sunlight before setting it down again, moving on just as quickly.

Like a butterfly.

Never still.

Theron watched her for a while before stepping in, his hand reaching out to catch her lightly at the back of her neck, stopping her mid-motion.

"Aren’t you buying anything?" he asked.

She used to.

Back then, when they came to the market with her father, she would grab whatever caught her fancy without a second thought, dragging him along as if the entire place existed for her amusement.

He had expected the same now.

Aveline only shrugged, the answer coming easily. "I don’t have money."

Theron stilled.

For a second, he didn’t know how to respond.

His hand instinctively moved toward his pouch, ready to offer it to her without hesitation, but before he could say anything, before he could even take it out,

She had already slipped away.

He lowered his hand slowly, watching her move ahead, laughing at something a vendor said, entirely unbothered.

Something in his chest tightened.

So, he did the only thing he could think of. He followed her and paid attention to everything she touched, everything she paused at, and everything her eyes lingered on just a second longer than the rest...

He bought it.

Aveline, unaware, wandered ahead until something finally made her stop.

A flower stall.

Her steps slowed, then halted completely. In the center of it, arranged carefully in a golden vase, was something she had never seen before.

A blue rose.

Not many.

Just a small, delicate bunch, placed with such care that it was obvious at a glance, that it wasn’t meant for just anyone. Even without asking, she knew it was something only the wealthiest could afford.

She couldn’t look away. Blue was her favorite color. Roses were her favorite flower. And to see them combined like this... it felt almost unreal.

Behind her, laughter rang out.

"Aveline...? Is that you, Aveline?"

The voice made her palms turn cold before she even turned around.

Slowly, she did.

And the moment her eyes landed on the speaker... Her heart skipped.

Lady Flora, Daughter of Duke Hormingstone. And worse... Beatrice’s friend.

"It is you," Flora said, her lips curling into a smile that held no warmth at all. "Beatrice’s dog."

The words landed like a slap.

Before Aveline could react, Flora had already turned to the girls beside her, recounting... laughing, as she described the things Beatrice used to do to her, every humiliation twisted into something amusing, something worth sharing.

They laughed. All of them.

Aveline’s hands curled into fists at her sides.

If they were laughing, it meant she had already lost.