Chapter 171

Grayson’s POV

The voice in my head was quiet but insistent, so I lied. It wasn't noble or just; the truth would do more harm than good. I couldn't tell Ava about the sister she never knew she had, the one taken at birth. I couldn't tell her that sister was my fated mate—the key to breaking the curse—because I knew Ava too well. She would never let it go. She'd dig, question, and fight until the truth destroyed everything we had. I lied to protect her, to protect us. Yet, she fell silent the moment we got in the car.

"Are you okay?" I asked, breaking the silence.

She jumped, turning from the window. Shifting uncomfortably, she replied, "Yeah, sorry. I was just thinking about what you told me. So, my ancestors really turned away your ancestor, the one who started the curse?"

My wolf would have growled at the lie—and its further twisting. But I couldn't help it. I disliked her family; I'd seize any chance to portray them negatively. Their absurd "help" had led to greater tragedy.

"I guess there were a lot of Luthers and Evelyn Pierces back then," I said, attempting a lighthearted joke.

She sighed, her expression darkening. "So my family was awful even back then. Sometimes I wish…" Her voice trailed off. "Sometimes I wish I'd been born into a completely different life."

I knew that feeling. Sixteen years ago, I'd wished countless times to be free of the throne's burdens and unrelenting expectations. So, instead of words, I reached over, threading my fingers through hers and holding her hand as I drove.

It was Saturday. We only had today and tomorrow before she returned to work, and I faced meetings that would drive me mad. The thought of losing this quiet time, however heavy it felt, pushed me to change the subject.

"What do you want to do today?" I asked.

She let out a long breath. "Honestly? I was looking forward to staying in bed all day, but Isabella ruined that. And now I'm starving because I didn't eat lunch yesterday. Oh, and I'm pretty sure you helped my body burn off dinner in record time." She laughed softly.

I smiled. "Okay, then we'll get food. What do you feel like eating?"

She rubbed her stomach dramatically. "Anything and everything," she declared. "I could eat for two people right now."

I stilled, my hands tightening on the steering wheel. The words shouldn't have meant anything—a figure of speech—but her tone made me freeze.

Noticing my reaction, Ava laughed nervously. "It's just a saying," she assured me. "I'm not pregnant. I'm on birth control."

Her words settled uneasily in my chest; guilt crept in. We hadn't discussed children since I'd told her I didn't want them. So much had happened since then, and even now, I couldn't change my stance. Not even after Liam's pointed comments about needing an heir.

Ava shifted, glancing out the window. "What's going on there?" she asked, pointing ahead.

I followed her gaze to a carnival. Bright lights, colorful tents, music, and laughter filtered through the closed windows. Her energy shifted instantly; she was practically buzzing with excitement.

"No," I said firmly, anticipating her request. "We're getting food and going home."

She sighed dramatically, pouting—a known weakness of mine. "My parents never let me go to carnivals as a child, plus there'll be food there," she murmured, her tone dripping with faux sadness.

I sighed, running a hand down my face. "That was low, Ava," I said, but my grip on the wheel relaxed, and I turned toward the entrance. Her grin was worth the exasperation.

The moment we stepped out, the sounds, smells, and energy of the carnival enveloped us. The scent of fried food mingled with cotton candy; children's laughter rang out.

Ava's eyes lit up; her excitement was palpable. She grabbed my hand, tugging me toward a food stand.

"Thought you were hungry," I teased as she stopped to stare at oversized stuffed animals.

"I am," she said, gazing at a giant white wolf plush. "But look at that!"

I chuckled. "Do you want it?"

She nodded eagerly. Before she could protest, I approached the booth. The game was a simple ring toss, but the odds were stacked against the players. Still, I wasn't about to let that stop me.

The vendor handed me the rings with a knowing smirk. But after a few well-aimed throws, the smirk vanished, replaced by surprise as I landed the final ring perfectly.

"Pick your prize," he said reluctantly.

Ava clapped excitedly as I grabbed the white wolf plush and gave it to her. She hugged it, beaming. "Thank you!"

She then grabbed my hand and dragged me to the food stand. I followed; if I didn't want to, she wouldn't let me move.

She pointed at the steaming food. "I want that one," she said, tapping the glass over a pile of fried dumplings that looked hours old.

I stared at the food, my face contorting in disgust. "I'm not eating anything from here," I muttered, stepping back.

Ava frowned, hands on her hips. "What do you mean you're not eating? You can't say no to street food—it's part of the experience!"

I sighed, my tone calm but firm. "Ava, I don't eat street food. It's unhygienic. Who knows how long that stuff has been sitting there?"

Before Ava could respond, the vendor, a middle-aged man with a grizzled beard and stained apron, opened his mouth to defend his wares. I shot him a sharp glare, cutting him off. His lips pressed into a thin line, and he wisely turned to the next customer.

Ava raised an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed. "Suit yourself, Mr. Fancy. More for me." She placed her order with an exaggerated flourish.

I watched as she paid and received her food with almost childlike excitement. I reached into my pocket and paid the vendor before she could protest. Then, something else caught her attention, and she practically shoved the wolf plush back into my arms before bouncing away.

I stared at the stuffed wolf. Never had I imagined I'd be standing here, holding a plush toy. Yet, I felt a smile tugging at my lips. Ava's joy was infectious; she always broke down my walls.

But then, my instincts flared.

Turning to the vendor, I fixed him with another icy glare. "That food better not be poisoned," I warned, my voice low and sharp. "Or else."

The man paled, shaking his head quickly. "It's not, sir. I swear."

Satisfied, I walked away, the plush still in my hand, keeping my eyes on Ava. She bounced ahead, oblivious to the intensity of my gaze, nibbling on a dumpling. She was my happy place—a rare, pure source of light. Seeing her smile lessened the darkness within me.

But that happiness shattered in the next second.

My phone buzzed. I pulled it out, my brows furrowing at the incoming message: "I've let you have your moment of peace, Your Highness, but like I said before, the king must fall."

A wave of cold dread washed over me. My jaw clenched as the second message arrived: a picture of me, taken moments ago, unaware of the camera. Beneath it were four chilling words: "That time is now."