Hiding My Twin Heirs from the Ruthless Prince novel Chapter 3

Evangeline took a deep breath, steadying herself as she stepped from her chambers. She carried a leather trunk and a smaller bag—her maid had hastily packed her essentials: a few gowns, her jewelry, and the precious personal items that truly belonged to her, not the crown.

The palace corridors stretched endlessly before her, silk slippers whispering against polished marble. Torches flickered in their holders, painting shadows across tapestried walls that had been her gilded cage for three long years.

Sebastian still lounged in the great hall, seated in a high-backed chair near the massive fireplace. He held a goblet of wine, casual and unbothered, as if their marriage hadn’t just shattered into pieces.

“Where do you think you’re going?” His deep voice echoed off the vaulted ceiling, stopping her mid-stride.

She turned but said nothing, chin lifted with hard-won dignity.

“I asked you a question, Evangeline.” His tone sharpened, more commanding. “Do you understand what leaving this court means? Where exactly are you planning to go?”

Her lips pressed together as she gripped her traveling case tighter. She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of an answer.

He rose from his chair with fluid grace, his blue eyes locking onto hers across the vast hall. “Fine. Be stubborn. But when my parents—when the King and Queen ask about our dissolved marriage, you’ll tell them the truth. You’ll make it crystal clear that this annulment was your idea, not mine. Make sure they know this scandal is entirely your fault.”

Evangeline swallowed hard, her gaze drifting to the cream envelope she’d dropped earlier—when she’d discovered Sebastian with Lady Cordelia. The letter still lay on the ornate marble floor, a cruel reminder of joy turned to ashes.

Master Aldrich’s words haunted her: “You’re carrying twins, Your Highness. The kingdom will be overjoyed.” The bitter irony wasn’t lost on her—she carried the future heirs to the throne, yet she was being thrown away like yesterday’s flowers.

She bent gracefully, retrieved the envelope, and straightened without meeting Sebastian’s contemptuous stare. The paper crinkled in her trembling fingers as she tucked it into her traveling cloak.

Without another word, she turned and walked toward the great oak doors leading to the courtyard, spine straight and head high despite the storm raging in her heart.

Cool night air hit her face as she emerged into the moonlit courtyard. She dragged her trunk across the cobblestones toward the main gate, each step heavier than the last. The weight of her decision—and the secret she carried—pressed down on her shoulders.

Palace guards at their posts looked away respectfully, though she sensed their curiosity. The Crown Princess leaving alone in the dead of night with her belongings was unprecedented.

Pregnant? The word echoed in her mind like funeral bells.

Her heart clenched with pain so sharp it felt physical as understanding crashed over her. So that’s why he had no interest in children with me. He was already creating his legacy elsewhere.

How long had this betrayal been happening right under her nose? How many months—years, even—had she lived a lie, believing herself his wife when she was nothing but a convenient facade for his real love?

Lady Cordelia’s soft, musical laughter savored the devastation on Evangeline’s face. “It seems you were never more than a political necessity, darling. A pretty decoration to satisfy the marriage contract while Sebastian waited for his true love to give him an heir.”

Evangeline snapped her mouth shut, summoning every lesson in royal composure she’d ever learned. She wouldn’t give this woman the satisfaction of seeing her completely break.

She turned away, vision blurring with tears she refused to shed in front of Lady Cordelia, and continued toward the gates that would take her from this palace of lies forever.

But the world around her began to tilt dangerously, her steps becoming unsteady. The shock of the revelation, combined with the emotional toll of the evening and her early pregnancy, overwhelmed her. Her chest felt tight, breathing shallow, and her head spun like a child’s toy.

“No,” she whispered to herself, pressing a hand to her temple as she tried to steady herself against the iron gate. “Not now. You can’t fall apart now.”

But her body betrayed her determination. The dizziness intensified, black spots dancing at the edges of her vision. One hand moved instinctively to protect her stomach—to protect the precious secret growing within—as her knees buckled.

The last sound she heard before darkness claimed her was Lady Cordelia’s triumphant, mocking laughter echoing across the moonlit courtyard.