Chapter 20
The Rift Between Duty and Love
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One week later…
Cater stood at the edge of the castle courtyard, his figure partially hidden in the shadows as he watched Alric walk beside his father King Arthur. The two were deep in conversation, their heads bent as they discussed something Cater couldn't hear. For a fleeting moment, Alric's eyes flickered in Cater's direction, but the prince quickly looked away, his expression cold and distant.
Cater clenched his fists, the memory of Alric's words replaying in his mind like a cruel echo:
"I don't want you or your friend near me. Your room will be moved out of the castle, and you are no longer my servant. I won't say anything to my father, but I never want a demon near me again."
Those words had cut deeper than any blade. Cater could handle his father's wrath and rejection, but Alric's hatred—that was a pain he couldn't suppress. For the first time in his life, Cater felt truly broken. Even when his father disowned him, it hadn't hurt this much.
The darkness inside him stirred, sensing his vulnerability. It clawed at the edges of his control, begging to take over. Cater closed his eyes, struggling to suppress it, but the ache in his chest only grew stronger.
"You're losing control," Jane said softly, her voice pulling him back to the present. She stood behind him, her eyes filled with concern.
Cater took a deep breath, forcing the darkness down. "I'm fine," he muttered, though his voice was tight.
Jane frowned, moving closer. "You're not. And if you keep this up, you'll hurt yourself—or worse, someone else." She sat beside him, lowering her voice. "Cater, you need to let go of what he said. I know it hurts, but—"
"He hates me, Jane," Cater interrupted, his voice breaking. "After everything I've done, everything I gave up for him… he still hates me."
Jane studied him carefully, her expression softening. "Hate can change. You know that." She paused, placing a hand on his shoulder. "Look, at least he didn't banish you from the kingdom. That has to mean something. You can still protect him. Isn't that what the prophecy said you were meant to do?"
Cater let out a bitter laugh, his head falling into his hands. "How am I supposed to protect someone who doesn't even want me around? He won't listen to me. He won't even look at me."
Before Jane could respond, Cater's attention snapped to the castle doors. Alric emerged, flanked by knights. He was dressed in armor, his sword hanging at his side. He looked every bit the noble prince, but there was something different in his posture—something tense and restless.
"Where is he going?" Cater asked, standing abruptly.
Jane hesitated, glancing between Cater and the prince. "It's the Flesh Eater," she said finally. "It's still out there. The guards found two men dead last night. It's hunting near the villages again."
Cater's expression hardened. "And you didn't tell me this earlier because…?"
"I didn't want to overwhelm you!" Jane snapped, crossing her arms. "You've been barely holding it together, Cater. You needed rest."
But Cater wasn't listening anymore. He was already moving toward the group, determination burning in his chest.
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Alric mounted his horse, his knights preparing to follow him. His focus was entirely on the mission ahead, his expression grim. But before they could set off, a figure stepped into their path.
Cater stood firmly in the middle of the courtyard, blocking their way.
"Move," Alric growled, dismounting and striding toward him. His tone was sharp, but his eyes betrayed a flicker of hesitation. "I told you to stay out of my way, Cater. Don't make me regret sparing you."
"I need to talk to you," Cater said, refusing to back down.
"You have nothing to say that I want to hear," Alric snapped, his voice cold. "Step aside. Now."
Cater didn't flinch. Instead, he stepped closer, lowering his voice so only Alric could hear. "I know you don't trust me. I know you hate what I am. But I can't let you go out there alone. You're walking into danger, and if something happens to you…" He paused, his voice faltering. "Please. Let me protect you."
Alric's anger flared, and before he could stop himself, he grabbed Cater by the front of his shirt, pulling him close. "Protect me?" he hissed. "You've lied to me for years. You've hidden what you are. And now you want me to trust you?"
Cater met his gaze, unflinching. "I don't need your trust, Alric. I just need to be by your side."
For a moment, the two men stood frozen, their faces inches apart. Alric's grip tightened as he searched Cater's eyes, looking for something—an answer, a truth, anything.
"Well?" Cater whispered, his voice steady. "What are you waiting for? Kill me, if that's what you want. But know this—I'll keep coming back. As long as I'm breathing, I'll never stop protecting you."
Alric's hand faltered. The anger in his expression gave way to something else—something softer, more conflicted. He released Cater with a frustrated sigh, stepping back.
"Fine," Alric said curtly, his tone betraying none of the turmoil in his chest. "You can come. But if you step out of line, I'll kill you myself."
Cater nodded, his lips curving into a small, relieved smile. "Understood, Your Highness."
Alric turned without another word, mounting his horse once more. He refused to look back at Cater as the group prepared to ride out, but the tension in his shoulders was impossible to miss.
Cater fell into step behind the knights, his heart lighter than it had been in days. For the first time since Alric's rejection, he felt a sliver of hope.
Jane watched from the castle steps, her arms crossed as she shook her head. "Well," she muttered to herself, "at least he's persistent."
As the group rode off into the distance, Jane sighed. "Good luck, Cater," she whispered. "You're going to need it."
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