Hiding My Twin Heirs from the Ruthless Prince novel Chapter 24

Evangeline stepped down from the ornate royal carriage, her heart hammering violently as she gazed up at the imposing facade of Sebastian’s palace.

It was unchanged.

The magnificent stone architecture, the towering columns, the rows of royal guards standing at attention in their ceremonial armor—everything remained exactly as she remembered from her years as Crown Princess.

Five long years.

And yet, nothing had altered.

She clenched her jaw, forcing herself to steady her breathing.

This was no longer her home.

This was no longer where she belonged.

But it was where her sons needed to be—at least for the present moment.

Before she could fully process the flood of overwhelming emotions, she felt small hands slip from her protective grasp.

“Papa!”

Marcus and Adrian bolted past her, their little legs carrying them directly toward Sebastian, who stood majestically at the top of the marble stairs.

Sebastian’s aristocratic features transformed completely, his usually sharp expression softening as he crouched down with arms opened wide.

The boys crashed into him with joyful abandon, their delighted laughter echoing across the courtyard as he lifted them both effortlessly, spinning them around with obvious paternal devotion.

“There are my young princes!” Sebastian’s deep voice was filled with unprecedented warmth, an emotion Evangeline had rarely witnessed during their troubled marriage.

Marcus grinned up at him with pure adoration. “Papa, you should have seen! Uncle Maximilian is going on a diplomatic mission!”

Adrian added enthusiastically, “And he allowed us to have sweet cakes for breakfast once!”

Sebastian arched an eyebrow with mock sternness. “Sweet cakes for breakfast? It sounds as though I must remind Prince Maximilian about proper royal upbringing.”

Evangeline rolled her eyes, though a small smile tugged at her lips despite her best efforts to remain aloof.

Sebastian finally set the boys down gently, ruffling their dark hair before turning his attention toward her.

For several moments, neither of them spoke.

Evangeline felt his intense gaze lingering upon her, studying her carefully—as though he were seeing a phantom from his past.

She straightened her spine with royal dignity, forcing herself to meet his piercing blue eyes with a carefully blank expression.

Sebastian’s lips curved into a slight smirk as he tilted his head. “Welcome home, Evangeline.”

Her stomach twisted painfully. This was not home.

But she chose not to argue.

Instead, she nodded stiffly. “Let us simply go inside.”

The palace servants efficiently unloaded their traveling trunks while Sebastian personally escorted them up the grand marble staircase.

Everything about the palace carried his distinctive scent—a mixture of sandalwood and expensive spices that made her chest tighten with unwanted memories of their shared past.

When they reached the third floor of the royal residence, Sebastian paused before a set of familiar double doors.

Evangeline’s eyes narrowed suspiciously as he pushed them open.

Inside lay a massive bedchamber, decorated in rich burgundy and gold, with leather furniture and a fireplace crackling warmly in the corner.

Her former chambers.

No.

Not her former chambers—Sebastian’s private royal suite.

Evangeline’s jaw clenched with indignation. “I will not be sharing chambers with you.”

Sebastian chuckled, leaning casually against the doorframe with his arms crossed lazily over his chest.

“Relax, my dear. I was merely testing your reaction.”

She found nothing amusing about his jest.

Before she could deliver a sharp retort, Sebastian stepped aside and gestured toward a smaller door at the far end of the suite.

“Those are your private chambers.”

Evangeline hesitated before walking past him and opening the door.

The room was elegantly appointed but modest—a canopied bed with silk hangings, an ornate wooden armoire, and French doors leading to a private balcony overlooking the royal gardens.

Nothing extravagant by palace standards.

But also—not truly hers.

This was no longer her life.

She sighed, placing her traveling case upon the bed. “Thank you.”

The rich color complemented her golden curls that cascaded gracefully over her bare shoulders in carefully arranged waves.

The luxurious fabric clung to her curves with sophisticated grace—nothing ostentatious or inappropriate, but certainly striking enough to remind the entire court that she was no longer the same uncertain woman they had last seen five years ago.

She was not here to be dismissed, overlooked, or treated as a forgotten relic.

She applied a delicate touch of crimson rouge to her lips, then exhaled slowly and deliberately. She could endure this political trial.

She had to survive it—for Marcus and Adrian’s future.

She turned back to her sons, running her fingers lovingly through their perfectly styled dark hair. “Remember everything I instructed you about court behavior?”

Marcus nodded solemnly with obvious seriousness. “Behave with proper royal dignity at all times.”

Adrian sighed dramatically with theatrical flair. “Do not strike anyone, regardless of provocation.”

Evangeline gave him a sharp maternal look, and he grinned sheepishly in response.

“Precisely correct,” she murmured, taking both their small hands firmly in hers. “Let us proceed to the ballroom.”

The moment Evangeline entered the magnificent grand ballroom with the boys, the elegant chamber fell into immediate, tense silence.

Evangeline kept her chin raised with unwavering regal bearing, her fingers tightening protectively around her sons’ small hands. She had fully anticipated this hostile reception.

Sebastian was already positioned prominently at the center of the opulent ballroom, dressed magnificently in a black and gold doublet with the royal coat of arms, his piercing blue eyes locking onto her the precise instant she crossed the threshold.

He smiled slightly with obvious satisfaction, stepping forward with practiced courtly grace. “Princess Evangeline. Prince Marcus. Prince Adrian. Welcome home to your rightful place.”

Evangeline maintained her carefully composed expression, though she could feel the overwhelming weight of every noble gaze fixed intently upon them.

Marcus and Adrian, completely oblivious to the underlying political tension, beamed joyfully up at their father. “Papa, where exactly is the promised cake located?”

Refined, sophisticated laughter rippled through the assembled courtiers, some genuinely amused, others carefully calculated for political effect.

Sebastian chuckled warmly with paternal affection, bending down gracefully to ruffle their perfectly styled hair. “After the formal royal feast, my young princes. Royal patience is a virtue.”

Evangeline released a slow, measured breath, genuinely grateful for the momentary distraction from the scrutiny.

But just as she prepared to step further into the glittering ballroom with renewed confidence, the massive ornate doors burst open with violent force, the thunderous sound instantly silencing the entire noble assembly.

Evangeline’s heart plummeted like a stone cast into deep water.

There, standing dramatically in the doorway like an avenging angel, dressed in a stunning crimson silk gown with a magnificent jeweled tiara catching the candlelight, her lips curved into a wickedly triumphant smirk, was Lady Cordelia herself.

The ballroom gasped collectively in absolute shock and horror.

Evangeline’s blood turned to ice water in her veins.