Sold To The Cruel Prince-Chapter 31: Her Claim

Aveline had learned something the hard way.

There was no point in fighting a battle you already knew you would lose.

It wasn’t wisdom she had gained willingly. It had been beaten into her, lesson after lesson, blow after blow, until her body understood it even when her mind tried to resist.

And now... That same instinct rose again.

For a fleeting second, the market disappeared. The colors, the voices, the warmth of the sun... All of it faded into something darker, something older.

She was back in that filthy chicken coop, the stench clinging to her skin, the ground cold beneath her as hunting dogs circled too close, their growls low and eager. Outside, laughter rang out... the cruel laughter of Beatrice, and her friends... watching, waiting, and enjoying her panic.

Aveline’s breath shortened.

Her fingers curled slightly, her body bracing for something that hadn’t even happened yet but felt inevitable all the same.

But, she was aware. This wasn’t the coop. She wasn’t trapped there anymore. This was a public place. People were around. Theron was with her.

She could leave.

Her eyes darted instinctively, searching for Theron. But... He wasn’t there.

The fragile sense of control she had tried to hold onto slipped.

Panic flickered, quick and sharp, her heartbeat accelerating as the world around her seemed to tilt. The noise of the market blurred into an indistinct hum, the space around her tightening, closing in as though invisible walls were pressing from all sides.

She needed to leave. Now.

Without thinking further, she turned, her steps quick, almost desperate as she tried to move past... But Flora stepped forward, blocking her path.

"Where are you going?"

The smile on her lips deepened, slow and deliberate.

Aveline knew that smile.

Her body recognized it before her thoughts could catch up, every nerve tightening as memory surged forward, vivid and merciless. It wasn’t just a smile; it was a promise of what came next.

Humiliation. Always humiliation.

"Let’s talk," Flora said, stepping closer, her presence pressing in like a shadow that refused to let her escape.

Aveline’s breath hitched.

She tried to steady herself, tried to pull herself back into the present, to remind herself that she wasn’t that powerless girl anymore...

But her body didn’t listen.

A small sound slipped out before she could stop it— a whimper.

Her shoulders drew in on themselves, her head lowering instinctively as if her body already knew what was coming. She braced without thinking, muscles tightening, breath turning shallow as a faint ringing filled her ears.

She was waiting for the pain, the cruel words... The laughter.

But then... A hand rested lightly against the small of her back.

Aveline flinched, her body jerking at the sudden contact, but before panic could take hold, a familiar voice followed, calm and effortless.

"Here’s your candied apple."

Theron.

The name didn’t form in her mind so much as it settled there, grounding her.

Aveline drew in a sharp breath, her chest expanding as if she had been underwater and had only just surfaced. She turned, almost too quickly, as though afraid he might disappear if she didn’t look at him fast enough.

He stood there, as though nothing was wrong, holding out a candied apple.

Her favorite.

She blinked, once... twice.

He nudged the stick toward her. She took it, carefully, as if this small, simple thing might break if she moved too fast.

And just like that, the tightness in her chest began to loosen. Her breathing steadied. The ringing in her ears faded.

Theron was here. That was enough. They wouldn’t be able to hurt her. He wouldn’t allow it.

Aveline lifted the apple and took a bite, the crisp sweetness breaking against her teeth. The familiar taste spread across her tongue, grounding her further, pulling her fully back into the present.

She looked up at him, a smile blooming—bright, almost too quick, but real enough.

"It’s good..." she said softly, already turning the apple toward him.

She always did this. Even back then.

Whenever they went to the market with her father, she would always offer him the first or the second bite, as though it was simply understood that whatever she had, he would share.

Theron leaned in and took a bite from the place she had already bitten, careful and deliberate, not to touch the candied coating.

He knew better.

She loved that part too much.

Back then, she would have snapped at him for it, her voice sharp, her glare unforgiving. And if he refused to take a bite at all, she would have refused to eat it herself, stubborn to the very end.

She had always been like that.

Unreasonable.

Persistent.

Strangely... endearing.

"Not there," she said, nudging the apple closer, pointing at the glossy, sugar-coated surface. "This is the best part. Try it."

Theron paused.

Was this a trap?

He studied her face as he leaned in slightly, half-expecting that familiar spark of irritation, that inevitable scolding... but it didn’t come.

Instead, she simply watched him. And when he tried to take only a small bite, she pushed the apple forward, pressing a generous portion of the candied coating into his mouth.

Then she smiled, just... pleased, watching him, as though his reaction mattered more than the taste itself.

Theron stilled for a moment, the sweetness lingering on his tongue, but his attention wasn’t on the apple anymore.

It was on her, on the way she looked at him, on how easily she shared, on how... gentle she had become.

How much had she changed?

Or... Had she always been like this, and he had simply never noticed?

"Who is this, Aveline?"

The moment the question reached her, Aveline’s brows drew together slightly. She had been about to take another bite, but the familiar grating tone made her pause.

She turned.

Flora stood there, lips curved in a knowing smirk, as though she had already decided how this would unfold.

But Aveline didn’t feel that same dread anymore. Not now. Not with him beside her. Her lips lifted faintly, something quieter, sharper settling beneath the surface as she met Flora’s gaze.

And then, she noticed it. Not just Flora... All of them.

One adjusted her hair. Another smoothed her skirt. A third subtly tilted her head, checking her reflection in a polished surface nearby.

Their attention wasn’t on her anymore.

Slowly, Aveline turned her head. Her gaze landed on the man beside her.

Tall. Composed. Effortlessly commanding without even trying even when he tried to appear as a commoner this time.

And then the realization struck her, sudden and almost blinding.

Theron is handsome.

Not just handsome. Dangerously, absurdly handsome. The kind that drew eyes without permission. The kind people wanted to be seen by.

Ah... So that’s how it is.

Something shifted inside her, quick and bright, a spark of mischief curling into something far more deliberate.

Inside, she let out a small, wicked laugh.

She knew these people, and exactly what they valued. They only valued beauty, status, and power.

And right now... She held all three within arm’s reach.

For every time they had laughed at her... For every time they had called her a dog... For every moment they had reduced her to something small and trembling...

She would return it, not with pleading or anger, but with something far worse.

Superiority.

She didn’t stop to wonder whether Theron would go along with it. Didn’t question it. Didn’t hesitate.

"Oh, him?" Aveline said lightly, as though the answer meant nothing at all.

And then she moved. Her arm slipped through his, hooking around it with an ease that suggested it belonged there, naturally and casually, as though it had always been that way.

Every pair of eyes dropped to where she held him. Then lifted, waiting and watching, expecting him to pull away, to deny her, and to put her back in her place.

But Theron didn’t move.

His attention wasn’t on them. It was on her... On the subtle twitch at the corner of her lips, and on the spark in her eyes.

He recognized it. She was plotting something.

But what?

A faint suspicion crossed his mind, and his gaze sharpened slightly.

If she dares to call me her brother again...

His jaw tightened just a fraction.

...I’ll kiss her on the mouth, right here. In front of everyone. Let’s see how she explains that.

"He’s my husband," Aveline said.

Her smile widened, bright and almost dazzling, as though the words were the most natural thing in the world.

For a moment... There was silence.

Then, a sharp, collective gasp rippled through the group.

Theron stilled.

For a split second, something dangerously close to delight surged through him, so sudden and intense it almost broke through his composure.

He cleared his throat, turning his face slightly away, as though the reaction meant nothing, as though he wasn’t fighting the very real urge to grin.

That’s right.

Let them choke on it.