Shackled To The Enemy King-Chapter 95: To Stay Together

Sebastian stepped out of his faculty office and nearly collided with his fiancée, Gwendolyn Harrington.

For once, his first instinct wasn’t to escape.

"Sebastian!" Gwen beamed, delighted he wasn’t bolting like a postman chased by a dog. "I’m showing fifteen pieces at the gallery this weekend. I wanted to invite you first."

"Miss Harrington," he replied with a measured smile. "Would you like to sit in on my class today?"

Her heart soared. Not only was he speaking to her, but he was also inviting her into his world. The rumors about him ending their engagement had to be lies. She’d secured his parents’ favor; he wouldn’t risk his place in the Remington family.

New money she might be, the second-generation heiress to an electronics empire, but she’d carved her way into elite circles. Soon she’d have a legacy name to seal it.

She tried to be attentive in class, even answering when she was wrong. Sebastian endured it.

When the lecture ended, girls clustered around him. Gwen’s jaw tightened.

"Where are you taking me for our date, Sebastian?" She looped her arm through his.

The students exchanged glances and drifted off.

"You shouldn’t encourage them," Gwen muttered, glaring. "Who knows what they’re thinking?"

Sebastian knew, as always, why he disliked this match. She called it caring; it was control. And he had never tolerated cages.

He gently removed her hand from his arm and faced her.

"Postponing dinner won’t change my decision," he said, stepping back.

Her eyes widened. "I..."

"I want to end our engagement, Miss Harrington. It’s best for both our futures."

He had planned to soften the conversation over coffee. But her possessiveness had erased that courtesy.

"Is it because of that woman you—"

"It doesn’t matter," he cut in, voice firm. "We’re not compatible. Let’s leave it there. Next time we speak, it should be with our parents."

He inclined his head. "Goodbye, Miss Harrington. I wish you happiness."

And he walked away.

Gwen’s hands curled into fists.

I’ll find out who she is, she swore silently. And I’ll take back what’s mine. You have to marry me, Sebastian!

-----

Bernice sat by the window, smiling without realizing it.

That morning, they had walked through the indoor rainforest in his house. He’d named every plant, their proper botanical terms, origins, and climates, like reciting a private encyclopedia. Maybe that was his obsession. Exotic plants.

Then, without warning, he’d handed her jasmine, that was so fragrant it was almost overwhelming, flowers she’d never seen before. He braided her hair with careful fingers and tucked them in as if he’d done it a hundred times.

Of all the people in the world, she’d never imagined he’d know exactly how to braid her hair.

She studied her reflection in the glass, catching the faint outline of flowers woven through dark strands. She’d grown used to the scent now. It felt like carrying a garden on her skin.

Then her phone rang.

Her mother.

The sound shattered everything.

Her hands began to shake. What is it this time?

She had worked since she was young, helping at home and sending money. Somewhere along the way, she’d become nothing more than an ATM. And now, without a job, what was she supposed to give?

"Mom?" she answered. She had never learned how not to. Ignoring the call only brought threats of suicide, of abandonment, of what a terrible daughter she’d become.

"Your brother was arrested for larceny," her mother said flatly. "Bail is ten thousand. Arrange it. Get him out tomorrow."

The room tilted.

She was practically a prisoner here. How was she supposed to leave? And more than that...

"I don’t have ten thousand, Mom," she said quietly. It was the truth.

Her mother’s voice sharpened instantly. "So you’ll let your brother rot in jail? Over a small mistake? Do you know what happens to boys like him in there? Do you want him dead? Do you even care about this family?"

The words kept coming. Accusations. Guilt. Fear.

Bernice slid down until her back hit the window, phone still pressed to her ear. She covered her mouth and sobbed silently, shoulders shaking.

The faint scent of jasmine clung to her.

Should she really swallow her pride and beg Sebastian for money? And if her family knew who she was with... they wouldn’t ever let them live in peace.

Just because you’re here doesn’t mean you belong here, she thought bitterly. Imagine what your family would do to this place...

The garden felt very far away.

-----

That night, Catherine lingered outside Maximilian’s door, fingers twisting the hem of her pajama shirt as she watched him gently rock the baby to sleep.

Why was she standing there like a beggar?

She knew the answer. She didn’t want to sleep alone... but she had no idea how to ask him.

Tomorrow’s meeting with Dorian weighed on her, her thoughts too loud, too restless. If she stayed with Maximilian, they could... distract themselves.

For a fleeting second, a memory flashed... their bodies tangled, clothes slipping, breath warm against skin. The last night they’d shared a bed.

She shook her head.

No. That wasn’t what she wanted. Not really.

He’d say something insufferable, she’d snap back, and the bickering would burn the anxiety out of her. Honestly, who needed therapy when you had your enemy magically bound to you?

Catherine blinked. This is ridiculous.

She turned to leave. Better a sleepless night than asking him and enduring whatever smug reaction he’d give.

"Catherine."

She turned.

"She’s restless tonight," Maximilian said softly. "Can you hold her for a bit?"

"Sure."

She stepped inside.

Curled against her chest, the baby settled quickly, tiny breaths evening out as she drifted to sleep. When Catherine looked up again, Maximilian had moved to the far side of the bed, leaving his side, and lay down.

"I have to preside over the history club in the afternoon," he murmured. "Let’s go to your meeting first thing in the morning."

"Okay," she said, a little surprised by the calm in his voice.

This... was good.

She set the baby gently in the bassinet, then slipped into his usual spot. He already looked asleep.

A small, delighted smile tugged at her lips as she rubbed her hands together.

I don’t have to sleep alone tonight.

She lay on the edge, pulling his duvet around herself... the one he’d conveniently left for her.

Across the bed, Maximilian smiled to himself.

She came to me on her own.

Catherine fell asleep without needing him at all. She woke once to feed the baby; he stirred too, but she sent him back to sleep. The next time, he took over without a word.

It felt... suspiciously like a married couple.

Catherine refused to dwell on that.

And in the morning, when she woke...

She could only sigh at the position she’d somehow ended up in.