Chapter 29: The Coldness of the Heart

It had been weeks since the arrival of King Knox's ex-fiancée, Clarissa, and the ripple effects of that one meeting continued to stir the royal palace. The walls, once filled with laughter and warmth, had grown colder, and Amaria could feel the shift deep within her heart. Her intuition had always been sharp, but now, it screamed at her, telling her that something had changed between them—something subtle but undeniable.

The whispers, the cold looks from the palace staff, and the sudden attention Clarissa seemed to garner whenever she appeared at the palace had made her feel like an outsider in her own home. What hurt the most was the way King Knox remained emotionally distant, as though the air had thickened between them. She no longer felt the gentle warmth of his presence, nor the tender words he had once whispered so freely to her.

And in the quiet moments when they were alone, when the weight of the day had lifted and they had a chance to speak, he seemed distant, guarded even. There was an invisible wall between them now.

Amaria couldn't help but feel betrayed by the way Clarissa's return had shaken their life together. The affection King Knox once showered her with now felt like a distant memory. When she had asked him about Clarissa, his answers had been too brief, too cold, leaving her with more questions than answers.

The most painful part was the jealousy that brewed deep within her. She had always been secure in their love, but now, seeing the coldness in his eyes when Clarissa was around, Amaria wasn't so sure anymore. Was she really the woman King Knox wanted by his side, or had she simply become a placeholder for someone else?

It was during these troubled days that she began to withdraw, unable to fully put her trust in him. If she had learned anything from her own past, it was that love required honesty, and King Knox was giving her none of that.

The private moments they once shared now felt strained. Amaria would find herself retreating into her own thoughts, keeping her distance from him. She stopped calling him "Your Majesty" in private, a habit she had held onto out of respect, but the title felt wrong now. Instead, she had begun to address him as my love, a title that felt more personal, more intimate, and at the same time, more painful. She couldn't help but feel a twinge of bitterness every time the words left her lips.

King Knox, however, had started calling her sweetheart. It was endearing at first, but now, it felt like a formality, a distant reminder of what they once had—intimate, warm, and genuine—but now reduced to a mere phrase spoken out of routine.

There were no more stolen kisses in the corridors or whispered sweet words in the quiet of the night. The King's coldness had cast a shadow over their marriage, and Amaria, though she still loved him, could no longer bring herself to show him the affection she once did so freely.

One evening, after a long day of royal duties, the King returned to the palace, his face set in that familiar stern expression. He had met with some nobles earlier, and the weight of his responsibilities had seemed to settle heavily on his shoulders. As he entered their chambers, he saw Amaria standing by the window, her eyes fixed on the distant horizon.

"Sweetheart," he called out softly, his voice attempting to break the silence.

Amaria didn't turn around. She simply continued staring out the window, the cool breeze ruffling her hair. She had never felt so distant from him before, but she couldn't bring herself to face him, not when everything felt so unresolved.

"I thought you'd like to hear about the meeting today," he continued, trying to sound as though nothing had changed, but the tension in his voice betrayed him.

Amaria's lips tightened, her fingers clenched by her side. She didn't want to hear about the meeting. She didn't want to hear about anything. Not when the person she loved so deeply seemed to be slipping further and further away from her.

"Do you still think about her?" Amaria asked, her voice quiet but sharp. The question hung heavy in the air, and for a moment, the room was entirely still.

King Knox stiffened, his brow furrowing slightly. "Who?" he asked, though he already knew.

"Clarissa," Amaria said, the name feeling foreign on her tongue. "Do you still think about her?"

There it was—the unspoken question, the one that had been burning in Amaria's chest for weeks. She had tried to ignore it, tried to push it down, but it had festered inside her, eating away at the bond they once shared.

King Knox's jaw tightened, and he took a step toward her. "Amaria—"

"I'm asking you, Knox," she interrupted, turning to face him, her eyes flashing with a mix of frustration and sadness. "You're distant. Cold. You've barely touched me in weeks, and I can see how she affects you. So tell me, do you still care for her?"

The words stung, but Amaria couldn't help herself. The jealousy that had taken root in her heart had grown into something fierce, something uncontrollable.

King Knox's eyes darkened, and for a moment, he said nothing. He simply stood there, as though weighing her words, trying to find the right response. But the silence stretched on, and it only made Amaria's heart ache even more.

Finally, he took a step forward, closing the distance between them. "I do not care for her anymore," he said firmly, his voice low. "You are my wife, Amaria. You are my family. There is no one else for me."

But Amaria wasn't sure if she believed him. His words were kind, but the coldness in his eyes—those eyes that once held so much warmth for her—left her doubting everything.

"I wish I could believe you," she whispered, her voice trembling.

King Knox reached out to touch her arm, but she pulled away from him. His hand hung in the air, his fingers curling into a fist at his side. The disappointment was clear on his face, and yet, there was something else—something unspoken—that flickered in his gaze.

"Amaria," he began, his voice quieter now, almost pleading. "I never wanted to hurt you. But you need to understand... Clarissa's return has stirred up old wounds. I never wanted her back in my life. But now, I see the damage it has done."

Amaria's gaze softened just slightly, but the distance between them remained. "I don't want to be part of your past, Knox," she said quietly. "I want to be your future."

His expression faltered for a moment, and he reached out once more, this time more gently, his hand brushing her cheek. "You are, sweetheart. You are my future."

But Amaria, still unsure, stepped back. "Then show me," she whispered, her voice barely audible.

King Knox stood still, his gaze lingering on her, as though searching for the right words. "I will," he promised. "I'll show you. I won't let anything come between us again."

And though Amaria wanted to believe him, she wasn't sure anymore. But one thing was certain: things between them had changed. And whether they could return to what they once had remained to be seen.