The Devil's obsession with the Heiress
Chapter 413: The Forgotten Past - VII
[Music recommendation: Aaryan Shah - Budapest (Acoustic)]
.
.
Gavriel sat frozen, unable to fully process what he had just learned.
When his mother had mentioned the upcoming banquet, he had paid little attention to the details, never bothering to learn the name of the noble house hosting it. Now, the cruel irony of it all pressed heavily against his chest.
Hera was the very woman his parents intended to marry off to Belial, his elder brother.
Gavriel had always shared a special bond with Belial, being born second to him.
But the thought of Hera being given to his brother stirred a dark, turbulent conflict within him.
Though he genuinely cared for Belial, Hera had become irreplaceable to him with each passing day. The mere thought of her belonging to someone else made a possessive fire burn through his blood.
More than that, a dangerous spark of hope flickered within him... the possibility that she might very well be his own destined mate.
Carefully masking his turmoil, he asked, "So, you don’t want to marry Prince Belial?"
Hera frowned. "Absolutely not! Have you heard the size of his harem? I would rather die than become a wife in name only, reduced to just another addition to his harem."
Yet Gavriel was far from satisfied. Her confession still echoed in his chest, and he leaned in closer. "Then... who is it that you like?"
Hera parted her lips, looking deeply into his eyes, but she couldn’t bring herself to say the words aloud. Instead, she turned away and murmured, "I don’t wish to speak about it."
Gavriel clenched his jaw hard, a fierce turmoil burning inside him at the thought of her heart belonging to someone else.
He opened his mouth to press her with more questions, but stopped himself.
If this woman was not his destined mate, she could very well end up becoming his sister-in-law.
Crossing that line could prove disastrous.
No matter his desires, if she was not his mate, being born as the future devil forbade her from becoming his official wife. And judging by her clear disdain for shared affection, Gavriel knew she would never accept becoming a mistress, even if he broke his own principles to offer her such a place.
His thoughts were a tangled mess, and his mood darkened by the second.
Bellarios, who had heard every word of their conversation, became unusually quiet. The little beast seemed even more disheartened than Gavriel himself, as he too understood how cruelly fate might separate them.
With the banquet only two days away, Gavriel decided the wisest choice was to leave before his composure slipped further.
As he stood up, Hera looked up at him in surprise.
"What’s wrong? Are you leaving?" She rose quickly to her feet as she searched his face with anxious eyes.
Gavriel offered her a faint smile. "Yes. I should head back. I have some work to attend to."
"Oh... I see." Hera hesitated before asking, "So, will I see you tomorrow?"
A whirlwind of conflicting emotions flickered across Gavriel’s eyes in the span of seconds.
Reaching out, he gently tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear, his fingers lingering against her skin. "If time allows," he whispered softly.
For some unknown reason, Hera felt her chest tighten at his words, as though he were quietly bidding her goodbye. She watched him turn around and begin to walk away, with Rio hovering close to his shoulder, looking just as somber.
She remained still for a moment, watching Gavriel’s broad back as he grew farther away.
Then, before she could make sense, her feet carried her after him.
She hurried forward and wrapped her arms around him from behind, bringing him to an abrupt halt.
His eyes widened in shock as she rested her head against his back, her breath uneven.
"If I were to tell you... that I don’t want any of this..." Hera whispered, "Would you... take me away?"
Gavriel remained frozen as her voice trembled. "I cannot run on my own. My parents will not stop until I am married off to someone else." Her arms tightened around his waist, clinging to him as if he were her only lifeline. "Tell me... what should I do?"
Gavriel closed his eyes, his heart drumming fast in his ears at the warmth of her arms wrapped tightly around him. But no matter how much he yearned to tell her that he would take her away, he knew the outcome would bring nothing but misery for both of them if she were not his destined mate.
Raising his hands, he gently placed them over hers to break her grip. With excruciating restraint, he forced out the words, "Forgive me, Hera... it wouldn’t be right..."
At his words, Hera felt as though she had been jolted awake from a foolish dream. She quickly pulled back, lowering her head in embarrassment. "Right... my apologies. I... I was not thinking straight."
She cleared her throat, desperately trying to compose herself, while Gavriel stood with his back still turned towards her, gathering what little resolve he had left.
"Just wait for two more days," he said quietly.
That was all he said before walking away.
He did not dare look back at her, for had he turned around, he would have seen the tears streaming down her face as she stared at his retreating back with a longing she could no longer hide.
.....
Ravenor Mansion...
Soon, the day of the banquet finally arrived.
Two days passed quickly, but for Hera, those two days were agonizing because Gavriel never returned to meet her.
His absence ate at her from the inside.
She tormented herself with the thought that her impulsive behaviour had driven him away, and his blunt refusal to take her away stung far more than she cared to admit.
In her heart, her outburst had been a quiet confession, making his discouraging words feel like a crushing rejection she could not escape.
Standing before the mirror, she looked like a blooming rose in a stunning crimson gown that contoured her figure perfectly. Maids hovered around her with a barrage of compliments.
Yet Hera barely heard them. Her eyes remained fixed on the window, gazing toward the distant forest path where her secret sanctuary lay.
Her mother, Arabella, stepped into the room draped in an elegant white gown.
With her striking burgundy hair and crimson eyes, she looked at her daughter with admiration.
"You look breathtaking, my dear," she said warmly. "Everyone is waiting. Come, we must leave before the royals arrive."
Hera’s hands clenched at her sides, but she offered no response.
As they walked through the grand corridors, Vorra noticed Hera’s unusual quietness and leaned in to whisper, "Is everything alright, Lady Hera?"
Hera offered only a faint smile and a silent nod.
Vorra knew Hera had been unhappy ever since learning of her arranged betrothal to Prince Belial.
In truth, Vorra considered Hera a fool for being disheartened by such an extraordinary opportunity to join the royal family. Any demoness in the Underworld would have killed to be in her position. A bitter disdain festered within Vorra’s chest, disgusted that Hera was handed a prince on a silver platter only to act picky like a spoiled princess.
Nevertheless, Vorra kept her thoughts to herself. She adjusted her hairstyle and walked with arrogant grace, her chin held high. She was convinced that tonight she would steal the entire hall’s attention, fully believing the Crown Prince would recognize her and declare her his destined mate. Then, at last, she would be the one looking down on everyone who had ever belittled her.
Soon, they reached the grand hall where the banquet was being held.
As the enormous doors swung open, the conversations within gradually faded, and every gaze turned towards Hera.
If you find any errors (non-standard content, ads redirect, broken links, etc..), Please let us know so we can fix it as soon as possible.
ReportUse arrow keys (or A / D) to PREV/NEXT chapter
Loading comments…