When the heavy wooden doors closed behind us the room smelled strongly of jasmine flowers and sandalwood candles placed carefully across the furniture. A large four poster bed draped in crimson silk stood in the center of the room while soft moonlight entered through the tall windows.
Julian remained in his wheelchair near the window while I stood awkwardly near the door unsure of what to say.
After several quiet seconds I finally spoke. “I can help you to the bed if you want,” I said gently.
He turned his head slowly and answered with a calm voice. “There is no need. I can manage.”
I nodded and began to step away, but suddenly I noticed tension in his shoulders and a faint tremor in his hands as they gripped the armrests of the chair. Instinct pushed me forward.
“Let me help,” I said while reaching under his arms to lift him carefully.
He stiffened immediately and warned me quietly. “Audrey, do not.”
My hands slipped on the smooth fabric of his jacket and in the next second both of us lost balance. We fell together onto the thick carpet, and I landed across his chest with my palms pressed against his shoulders.
The room became completely silent except for our breathing, and in that stillness I felt something unexpected beneath my hand.
His heartbeat was strong and fast, and when I shifted slightly I felt the unmistakable movement of muscles in his legs beneath me. The legs that were supposed to be completely useless moved just enough to prove that everything I had been told was a lie.
I froze in shock while he remained perfectly still beneath me. After several seconds his hand rose slowly and wrapped around my wrist in a gentle but firm grip.
“You were not supposed to discover it like this,” he said quietly.
I stared directly into his eyes and whispered in disbelief, “You can walk.”
A small muscle tightened along his jaw as he answered honestly.
“I regained the ability to walk almost two years ago. The paralysis was real at first, but physical therapy worked better than anyone expected.”
He sighed softly before continuing. “My family decided it was easier to control a helpless heir than a fully recovered one, and a tragic public image created sympathy and silence.”
I swallowed and asked quietly, “So I was just part of their plan.”