The Hidden King's Stolen Wife-Chapter 188: Rafael

Chills ran down Soleia’s spine as she heard Raziel’s words. He was studying her, but even though her discomfort should be more than obvious, he didn’t stop speaking. If anything, he noticed her intrigue.

And he knew that he had caught her attention.

"We’ve had a lot more brothers growing up," Raziel explained, "but life in the palace can be competitive when there are one too many heirs. As the years passed, they died off one by one or left the kingdom and renounced their right to the throne in favor of pursuing other things in life. We thought Rafael would be the same, until recently." freeweɓnovel.cѳm

The name drifted through the air, soft yet unmistakable. She froze. A peculiar sensation gripped her chest like a thread pulled tautly. That name... why did it feel like she had heard it before? Her green eyes flickered with something unspoken, her breath catching ever so slightly. It gnawed at the edges of her memory, elusive yet persistent, like a word on the tip of her tongue.

Soleia’s fingers curled, nails pressing lightly into her palm. A chill ran down her spine, her mind racing. She could not understand why this name shook her so much, as though she knew this man.

But slowly and surely, the dots began to connect themselves.

She recognized the look in Raziel’s eyes― he wanted her to know. There was something he was warning her about, a hidden meaning in his little tale.

The blood manipulation abilities, the healing powers, and the mention of his brothers.

Of Rafael.

A bold thought struck Soleia’s mind. Was Prince Raziel hinting to her that Ralph was Prince Rafael?

"Why recently?" she slowly questioned. Soleia tried her best to school her expression, not wanting Raziel to be able to guess anything from her features. However, she wasn’t sure how successful she was.

Either way, he humored her.

"We found him in a distant land, working... odd jobs, for the lack of a better term. However, it seems like he will be returning home very soon," Raziel said. "Which I suppose, is rather good news. He has a fiancée eagerly waiting for his return, and if Rafael doesn’t come home, our father will arrange for her to marry Ricard instead. That would be most unfortunate, considering his track record."

"Why would he leave if he has a fiancée waiting for him?" Soleia pressed. "Is he not interested in this union?"

"He isn’t," Raziel flatly admitted. For some reason, Soleia let out a small breath of air she didn’t know she was holding. However, her relief didn’t last long. "But if he plans on becoming our father’s heir and the crown prince, he would have no choice but to marry her. After all, her family is extremely powerful in Raxuvia, and what are royal marriages if not political?"

He smiled and gestured at Soleia.

"I am sure Your Highness can understand that, of all people," he said.

She did. Her first marriage was political. Otherwise, she would’ve probably never married Orion Elsher. They were two very different people who lived two very different lives. If her father had not demanded it, they would’ve never wedded, especially with how keen Orion was in marrying his one true love.

Political marriages were a pain, and she already felt bad for Prince Rafael even though she hadn’t officially met him before. Yet... Soleia’s gaze turned to the stairs. She wondered if she already did.

"It seems like the tea has indeed worked its magic," Raziel said with a yawn and a stretch. He rose from the couch before bowing deeply. "I must return and rest. There’s a long day of traveling ahead, and unlike my brother, I see wiseness in catching up on some sleep as I will no doubt soon be deprived of it."

With one last final smile, he bade Soleia good night and returned to his room. She could hear his door clicking shut behind him shortly after his footsteps faded away.

Soleia turned to the coffee table to tidy up the cups and teapot. However, when her eyes went to the tray, she finally remembered.

She hadn’t served the tea yet. Prince Raziel hadn’t drunk anything.

***

"Get Raziel and get the fuck out of my house," Rafael said, his eyes darkening.

The sharp end of his blood dagger was jutted right against Ricard’s throat, and the man laughed with interest twinkling in his eyes.

"Why the rush, Brother?" Ricard asked with a click of his tongue. "We will be gone by dawn. It’s late, and people need their rest."

"You’re obviously not resting," Rafael said with a snort.

He gestured to the poor woman who had gathered her things and fled the moment Rafael arrived, her dress disheveled and her lipstick a mess. If Rafael hadn’t arrived when he did, there would’ve been public indecency out on the empty streets.

"Rest comes in many forms," Ricard said with a shrug. "I am but a man with needs. Who am I to turn away the goodwill of a beautiful woman who wishes to share the night?" Then, he smirked. "I am sure you understand that as well, seeing as to how you’ve managed to bag such a beautiful wife. I heard that you couldn’t wait till after your first dance to bed her, and rushed home immediately just to fuck―"

He stopped short when a sharp pain cut through his throat. Ricard’s expression turned cold, immediately losing all its previous playfulness. Rafael’s weapon might’ve nicked him, but as soon as Ricard’s blood spilled free, it hardened into a barrier that prevented Rafael from slicing cleanly through his arteries then and there.

"Until your official return, I am still the rightful heir apparent to the throne as the eldest-born son," Ricard reminded. "Your chances of taking the throne will be gone in dust if I die."

"I doubt you’ll die from something as simple as this," Rafael lowly said. "Unfortunately."

That remark caused Ricard’s lips to tilt back up in a crooked smile. "Of course not," he said. "We’ve done this many times, you and I. When have I ever died to your paltry attempts?"

Rafael said nothing. With a shove, he stepped away from Ricard, glaring hotly at him. Ricard, on the other hand, reached up and touched his neck. He couldn’t heal the wound immediately without Raziel around, unfortunately, but he could at least clot the blood so that he didn’t spill every drop right here on the streets.

Pain was such a delicious way to remind himself he was alive.

"Raziel and I merely wanted to pass on Father’s word," Ricard said. "I would’ve wanted to take her as my own bride, but unfortunately, Father was rather insistent that you are to be the lucky bastard."

"What are you talking about?" Rafael snapped.

"Elinora, of course," Ricard said with a short chuckle. "You didn’t think that your marriage with the exiled princess of Vramid would be recognized in the court of Raxuvia, did you?"