Chapter 61: Chapter 61 The Heir to the Throne
Phoebe’s POV
I woke with emotions swirling inside me—feelings I couldn’t quite name or understand. My gaze drifted to Perry, who slept peacefully beside me.
Last night had been different. He’d shown me a gentleness I’d never experienced from him before, and that baffled me. I had to admit, though—I’d enjoyed it.
He’d given me his complete attention, worshipped my body like it was something precious. He hadn’t been selfish, and most importantly, he hadn’t criticized me for anything. It had felt... good.
But I forced myself to remember what I needed to do. I couldn’t let one rare moment of tenderness erase all the terrible things he’d done to me, all the ways he’d hurt me.
This fleeting gentleness couldn’t make up for his cruelty.
I closed my eyes and slipped quietly from the bed. The king didn’t move, lost in what seemed like his first peaceful sleep in ages. Even if war broke out right now, he wouldn’t wake up.
Perfect. This gave me the time I needed.
I crept to the bathroom where I’d hidden my poison, then made my way to the television room.
Just as I’d expected, breakfast waited for us. Since the staff knew the king had spent the night in my bedroom, they’d set out two plates.
I added several drops of poison to Perry’s food. Usually, I tested the poison on myself first, but I’d started feeling the effects of that method lately.
I had to change my approach, or I’d die before the poison ever affected the king.
Once finished, I hid the vial inside one of the vases where I could grab it quickly if another opportunity arose.
Now I just had to wait for Perry to wake up.
Three hours passed before the king finally stirred. I had to ask the staff to reheat breakfast three times.
——
Perry sat up immediately when he realized he was alone in bed. He looked around the room, searching for Phoebe.
The sound of the television drew him toward the other room, where he found her curled on the sofa, laughing at cartoons on the screen.
"Do you like it that much?" Perry asked. He hadn’t meant to startle her, but she jumped like he’d fired a gun. "Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you."
——
**Phoebe’s POV**
"Sorry..." I pressed my palms against my chest, feeling my heart hammer against my ribs. Guilt made me jumpy—I’d done something terrible, after all.
Perry settled beside me on the sofa, noticing the two plates on the table. "Why haven’t you eaten?" He nodded toward the food.
I studied him for a long moment before answering. "I was waiting for you. I didn’t want to eat alone."
I had no appetite anyway—too many thoughts crowded my mind—but my answer seemed to please him. His expression softened.
"Let’s eat then," Perry said, reaching for the plate closer to him.
Relief flooded through me. He’d chosen exactly the plate I’d prepared for him.
"Okay." I picked up my portion and began eating slowly. I had no appetite, but even if I did, the food would taste like nothing to me anyway.
"Can you taste anything?" Perry watched me eat, clearly noticing my lack of enthusiasm.
"Not yet."
"We’ll see another healer."
"There’s no need—" I said quickly, not wanting him to waste resources on me.
"Of course there is." Perry took a deep breath. After our wonderful night together, he clearly didn’t want to turn this peaceful morning into another fight. "There’s a cure for this. I want you to taste all kinds of good things."
I stayed silent, so he tried again, probably thinking I was about to refuse his suggestion.
"Why do you care?" I finally asked.
"Of course I care. You’re my mate." He glanced at me, then continued eating before setting down his fork and speaking in a serious tone that caught me off guard. "I know we got off on the wrong foot, and you weren’t in the right headspace. I won’t say the mistake was completely yours—most of it was mine. But I want us to try again."
"Try... what?" I snuck a glance at him, then immediately looked back at my plate when I found him staring at me.
"How we start this relationship," Perry replied without hesitation. He looked at me intently, and when I still refused to meet his eyes, he gripped my chin—gently this time—forcing me to look at him.
I didn’t know how to respond.
"I won’t care what you’ve done in the past. I don’t even care what you did yesterday, as long as you’re willing to work with me to make our bond stronger."
Perry wasn’t like Timothy—he wasn’t good with words. His statement could easily be misinterpreted, but I understood what he meant. He was willing to forgive me for whatever I’d done, as long as I extended the same forgiveness to him.
"Why do you want that?"
I felt conflicted, but when I heard his next words, my heart turned to ice.
"I want an heir to the throne," he replied bluntly.
I said nothing, just lowered my head and played with my food. The silence felt suffocating, and I could sense the shift in the atmosphere, though Perry seemed oblivious to what he’d done wrong.
——
"God!" Timothy groaned in frustration when he heard what Perry had said that afternoon. He rubbed his face roughly in exasperation. "How could you say something like that?"
"It’s the truth."
"Oh, Aria! How can you be so clueless? Sometimes the truth isn’t the right thing to say."
"Do you want me to lie?" Perry was irritated by Timothy’s reaction, but just then, the beta approached with news.
"I’ve investigated the matter," Flynn said.
