The Divorced Military Queen Awakens (by Sadie Baxter) novel Chapter 439

Chapter 439 Childhood Treasures

Everett closed the cases gently. “Your grandmother bought these for your mother. With her gone, they rightfully belong to you.”

Quinn shook her head. “No, Uncle Everett. The clothes, perhaps, but these jewels are far too extravagant. I can’t accept them.”

Everett offered a rueful smile. “Quinn, to your grandmother and me, nothing is more precious than you and Rowan. She had only two children, your mother and me. In my case, I do not intend to get married, nor do I ever want to have kids. As such, everything that the Fane family has will one day be passed down to the two of you.”

Quinn opened her mouth, searching for fresh protest. “But-”

Everett lifted a calming hand. “All right. Leave them here for now if that feels easier. Whenever you wish to wear a piece, simply come and take it.”

Unable to argue further, Quinn nodded, a shy gratitude flickering in her eyes.

Just as she was about to return to the hotel, Everett glanced at her. “By the way, you’ve been in Celosia for days now. How are things between you and Julius?”

“He’s not ready to say yes to starting over,” Quinn said, her voice gentle yet unwavering. “Still, he hasn’t closed the door on us. So I’m keeping at it, inch by inch, until the answer turns into a yes.”

“Quinn, you’re the pride of the Fane family,” Everett declared, his tone half–pampering and half–commanding. “If Julius won’t come to his senses, I’ll line up a dozen men who are more than worthy of you–men who would cherish you properly.”

Quinn let out a small, unhurried laugh. “But even if the world is full of good men, my heart only beats for Julius, Uncle Everett.”

Having spoken her piece, Quinn offered a polite nod–a quiet farewell that needed no words- then pivoted on her heel and strode out of the house, the hem of her coat brushing the doorway like a final period.

Everett released a weary sigh, the kind that fluttered the documents on his desk. That girl isn’t budging. I guess it’s Julius Whitethorn or no one at all, huh?. This niece of mine is just as stubborn as her mother was. Very well. Julius had better treasure Quinn, or I’ll make sure he learns how ruthless the Fane family can be!

When Quinn returned to the hotel suite, she found Julius sprawled across the couch, eyes

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closed, the steady rhythm of a light nap softening the sharp lines of his face.

She lifted a curious brow. Julius had battled insomnia for weeks; a full night’s rest was a miracle, let alone an afternoon doze.

Yet there he was, sleeping–however lightly–a sight as startling as snow in midsummer.

Could this mean his sleepless nights are finally loosening their grip?

The notion coaxed a smile onto her lips, and she moved closer, footsteps hushed against the carpet as though afraid to wake the miracle.

But the next heartbeat stole that smile away.

He was anything but peaceful. A sheen of sweat glazed his forehead, dark lashes quivering above brows drawn tight, his handsome features knotted with unease and panic.

Memory flickered–Julius had mentioned nightmares before.

Is he trapped in one again?

The possibility tightened her chest, a quiet rush of worry humming beneath her ribs.

Sweat gathered faster on Julius‘ brow, forming bead after bead that slid down his temples.

Quinn pulled a tissue from the box, intent on blotting the moisture away.

But the instant the tissue brushed his skin, his eyes flew open–sharp, amber, and flooded with terror and remorse.

Quinn winced; his hand clamped around her wrist so fiercely that bone protested beneath the

pressure.

“I’m sorry… I’m so sorry,” Julius whispered, voice raw, eyes unfocused. “I should have saved your brother. I’m sorry…”

Shock flickered through Quinn. What on earth is he reliving?

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry…” His lips trembled, the words looping like a broken record. Though his eyes were open, the mist inside them proved he was still trapped in the dream.

His mouth quivered, and the five fingers latched around her hand quivered right along with it.

“Quinnie, please don’t abandon me, okay?” he pleaded, his voice splintering. “I never meant to deceive you. I–I was only terrified you’d leave me.”

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Quinn stood frozen. So this is his nightmare? Is he dreaming of the day I broke up with him?

Her right hand protested with a faint crackle where his grip ground bone against bone.

Yet the ache in her wrist barely registered; the sharper pain pulsed in her heart.

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