Chapter Ten: Daelyn - Irresistible Consequences

Chapter Ten: Daelyn – The Other Woman

Daelyn

Daelyn stared down at her oatmeal like it were foreign and offensive. Her spoon trembled as she forced another bite, the texture thick and flavorless, turning to paste in her mouth. It had been three weeks since she’d seen Andrik—three weeks of empty mornings and restless nights.

"Daelyn."

Lucas’s voice broke through her daze.

The spoon slipped from her fingers, clinking against the ceramic bowl. Her brother's eyes were heavy with concern, etched with new lines that hadn’t been there a year ago. Since their father's passing, the weight of the crown had aged him more than time ever could. He was no longer just her older brother—he was King Lucas of Wintergate. And he was looking at her like he didn’t know what to do next.

"I was asking about your birthday," he said. "You never gave me an answer about your gift. I thought... maybe it's time we revisit the idea of a celebration. A coming-of-age party, maybe? We could invite eligible men from both our countries."

Pilar, his new bride of almost two months, seated beside him, reached across the table, gently wrapping her hand around Daelyn's chilled fingers. The only other woman in the house who wasn’t paid to be here.

"We’re worried about you," she said softly. "You haven’t been sleeping. You’re barely eating. Not since..."

She didn’t finish the sentence. She didn’t have to.

Not since Andrik’s engagement announcement.

The name alone was enough to twist something in Daelyn’s stomach, and not just emotionally. The nausea had become constant—food repulsed her, her body refused to rest, and the world felt like it had narrowed into a hallway with no exits.

"I start fertility treatments today," Pilar added, her tone cautious but kind. She looked at Lucas, who nodded. "We asked Dr. Archibald to see you too. Maybe he can help… with the sleeping. Or the eating. Or at least figure out what’s going on."

"I’ll see the doctor," Daelyn murmured.

She excused herself and made it barely ten steps down the hall before her stomach revolted.

After washing her face, she retreated to her bedroom, grateful the house staff had started avoiding her. The silence was easier than the looks of pity. She threw on an oversized shirt, padded barefoot across the room, and picked up her tablet to distract herself.

A notification blinked on the screen.

Unknown sender

Her breath caught. She opened the message.

Daelyn,

I’m so sorry you had to find out like that. Please let me explain. My father has been controlling everything. I’m trying to come see you today. Don’t be mad.

Love, Andrik

The screen blurred as tears welled in her eyes. She dropped the tablet. Too late.

They’d been inseparable all summer, stealing quiet moments in the palace halls, laughing through secret passages, and inventing stories about the people in the portraits. She’d told him things she’d never said aloud to anyone else.

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It wasn’t until the mission to Strayerfield when he almost died that she realized the depth of her feelings. Before that, he’d been charming enough, sure, but she’d remained skeptical. The tabloids called him a reckless flirt. A royal playboy. And when he arrived back from the mission, still bleeding, barely alive… all her defenses came down.

That night, during the storm--the one that split the sky with lightning and shook the palace walls--she gave in. Every barrier, every rule, every fear… gone.

In a world where men outnumbered women, premarital relations were technically illegal. But enforcement required proof, and most people ignored the rule. Royals, however, were expected to obey it without fail. Andrik’s reputation alone had made him dangerous. Maybe she hadn’t fallen in love with him, but with the version she hoped he could become.

And now he was engaged. To Solene.

A commoner. A pawn. Someone with ties to the Genetics Engineering Program. Someone useful.

Now he wanted to explain. To apologize. But the real question—the one she was screaming inside—was: How could I have been so damn naive?

Worst of all, she didn’t know if he ever meant the words he said to her. Not when Solene had been with Roland, his best friend. Not when everything felt like a twisted game...and she’d never even known she was playing.

Emotionally strung out, Daelyn collapsed onto her bed. She didn’t even bother with the blankets. Curled up in yesterday’s shirt, she let sleep take her.

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She woke to Pilar’s soft knock.

"Hey," Pilar said gently, stepping in. "How are you feeling?"

Daelyn blinked against the fog of sleep. “What time is it?”

"Around noon. Sorry to wake you."

That’s when she heard it—raised voices downstairs. Male voices.

"Andrik is here," Pilar said.

Daelyn bolted upright. “What?”

"He’s arguing with Lucas. Says he needs to see you. I don’t think my father even knows he’s here. Honestly, I told him it wasn’t appropriate—he’s engaged, and you’re—" Pilar hesitated, "you’re not okay."

Daelyn pushed past her. She crept toward the stairwell and peeked over the edge.

Below, in the grand foyer, Lucas stood like a wall, blocking Andrik from the stairs.

Andrik looked like hell—unkempt, his usual sharp edges dulled by desperation. His jacket hung open, his shirt wrinkled. He paced like a caged animal, his worn boots squeaking across the marble floor.

Twenty guards stood still, tension thick in the air, none daring to step between a king and a future one.

“I need to speak with her,” Andrik snapped.

Lucas’s voice was ice. “Not happening.”

"Andrik thinks if he explains everything, it’ll make sense," Pilar whispered behind Daelyn.

"He didn’t say much to me, but... he’s convinced you’ll understand."

Daelyn’s stomach twisted again, but this time it had nothing to do with food.

No one knew what had happened between them.

Andrik’s voice echoed again. “Daelyn, please. Don’t do this.”

She turned away, her back pressed against the wall, her heart pounding against her ribs. She thought of that night. The storm. The way he’d looked at her like she was the only one in the world.

And how, not a week later, he’d shattered it all.

“Do you want to talk to him?” Pilar asked, her voice calm but serious. “Because your brother is seconds away from throwing him out—literally.”

Daelyn felt torn in two. Part of her wanted to confront him. Scream. Demand answers. Another part—a louder, wiser part—knew it wouldn’t change a thing.

He was marrying someone else.

Her breath shook. "No," she said. "Tell him there’s nothing left to say."

Pilar didn’t argue. She just nodded, squeezed her hand, and slipped away.

Daelyn turned, heading back to her room. Behind her, she heard it:

“Daelyn, it’s not what you think! Don’t do this!”

She closed her door. Let the silence drown him out.

Nausea. The fatigue. All of this was the result of him. She’d told herself it was heartbreak, humiliation, and stress.

But it will going away.

Dr. Archibald would figure it out.

Whatever came next, Daelyn would face it alone if she had to. Stronger than before.