The Hidden King's Stolen Wife-Chapter 218: I Am Sorry

"Orion, step away from my wife, and I’ll let you live," Rafael spat out angrily, shooting Orion a look full of vitriol. His bloody sword was hovering in the air, like an arrow notched on a bow string, ready to fly on command.

"No," Orion replied evenly, planting himself even more firmly in front of Soleia. "You’re not a good man. I’m taking Soleia away from you for good."

"Taking her? Don’t be preposterous!" Rafael scoffed at the audacity of his old friend before meeting Soleia’s eyes from behind Orion’s shoulder. "Darling, Soleia, tell me― is Orion hoodwinked by yet another amethyst user? What nonsense is he spewing out?"

"He doesn’t seem to be enchanted," Soleia said, and she purposely made her voice sound calm and even. "And he’s not our enemy. You should be thanking him for saving me. If Orion had not come for me, the prisoners would have ripped me apart from limb to limb before you arrived!"

"The prisoners?" Rafael’s face paled as he registered Soleia’s words. "How? You went down alone?"

Orion used the moment of distraction and struck at Rafael, the sharp blade cutting through the fabric of his leather vest, nicking the skin on his arm, drawing blood.

Rafael let out a low growl and immediately began to transform the blood sword into a whip, striking Orion’s head. Orion ducked, revealing Soleia’s defenseless form. Soleia’s eyes widened as she saw a blood-red stripe right before her face. Instinctively, she raised her hands in panic, catching the blow with her bare hands.

Almost immediately, Rafael drew his powers back. But it was not before her earrings glowed a bright powdery silver. Soleia’s heart raced as she felt Rafael’s ability settle inside her. Her knees grew shaky as she sank to the floor.

Rafael was effectively, temporarily, powerless. She would not have a better opportunity to escape than now. He was rushing towards her, kneeling down on the ground with panic and unconcealed worry in his eyes.

He grabbed her arms tightly, frantically apologizing. "Soleia, I am so sorry― I would never have struck you― Orion ducked―"

Soleia felt niggling guilt racing through her veins for what she was about to do.

"You are hurt," Soleia said, painting an expression of worry on her face as she gestured to his arm while cradling his face gently. "Can you heal yourself? Did I accidentally take away all of your powers?"

Rafael concentrated, a tiny frown forming on his face. However, his cut continued to bleed resolutely. That was all the confirmation she required.

"Not yet, but you don’t need to worry," Rafael said, trying to reassure her. He nuzzled closer. "I am perfectly capable of handling myself and protecting you from this―"

Rafael swayed where he knelt, his eyes flickering dumbly. There was a faint glimmer of realization as he met Soleia’s eyes before they glazed over. His eyelids closed, and his eyelashes fluttered against her palm as gently as a touch of a butterfly’s wings.

"I’m sorry," Soleia whispered into his ears as he slumped on her shoulder like a puppet with its strings cut.

She stroked the back of his head tenderly, feeling the fluffy strands of his hair, along with the new painful bump that had just formed thanks to Orion. She laid his body on the ground carefully with a soft sigh.

Behind him stood Orion, who stared impassively at his old friend, the hilt of his sword in his hand. With his wits and skills, it shouldn’t have been so easy to take him down, but Rafael Biroumand was powerless― and horribly distracted by Soleia’s supposed hurt that he had let his guard down at the most inopportune moment.

"Let’s go," Orion said. "We can’t afford to waste any more time. I didn’t hit him that hard."

"I know. Just... give me a moment," Soleia said, taking one last look at Rafael’s features.

She gently traced his features with her fingers as if mapping them to her memory. Those eyes that used to gaze at her with such love and devotion, the aristocratic nose and his sharp cheekbones... and those lips. She would never feel them on her again.

But it was for the best. She could not be with Rafael, not when his priority was always going to be the throne. If she did not have her powers, he would not have bothered to wed her. She loved Ralph Byrone, but that man did not exist. She could not continue to love the ghost of a man residing in the body of a man who longed to be king.

"I love you," Soleia whispered as she pressed one final kiss to his lips. "But I cannot stay with you. Please, forget me."

This was the only thing she could do to spare him the pain. If the gods were good, they would ensure that Orion’s blow had knocked out all memories he had of Soleia, leaving him with nothing but the thought of marrying Elinora and becoming king. This way, both of them could leave each other without regrets. Soleia would gladly carry all their happy shared memories to the grave.

Orion cleared his throat. "I don’t want to rush you―"

"I heard you," Soleia said. With one last resigned sigh, she got up and brushed her skirts. Her eyes hardened in determination. "Let’s leave this kingdom once and for all."

***

"Well, well, well, look who do we have here?" Elinora crossed her arms and stared down at Rafael in grim amusement. "Sleeping Beauty has finally woken up from his slumber."

"Shut up, I’m trying to rest." Rafael let out a pained groan at the pounding in his head.

His mouth was dry― he felt parched, as though he had spent the night drinking at the tavern and was now horrendously hungover. But that wasn’t right; since he returned to the palace, he had not touched a slip of alcohol outside―

Then, a series of memories played in his mind. Soleia and Orion together. Him losing his powers. Soleia hugged him. The faint smell of her perfume as she whispered her apologies into his ear.

He sprang up from the bed in shock. "Where is she?"

"Where is who?" Elinora asked. "And you should lie back down on the bed, the healers are saying you might have a concussion―"

"Soleia! My wife!"

"Oh, her?" Elinora cocked her head to one side, looking every inch a curious little bird that meant no harm. "She eloped with my ex-husband."