Chapter 12

Chapter 12

 “What is wrong with you?” Prince Fazan questioned her as he wiped his hands with a towel.

‘How come it’s still beating?’ Camilla was perplexed when she lowered the salver with the animal’s gleaming ticker on it still cladded in viridescent grume; pulsing despite being weeded out from its owner.

“You didn’t tell me I’d have to play servant.” When he said she wanted her to accept his catch, she came running just to be in attendance—not to accompany him while he eviscerates the heart of the poor thing, even though all she did was to display his harvest.

“Assistant.” He corrected.

“Same thing.” She whispered to herself.

 

“That is how a lady receives a hunter’s yield, as it had been for centuries. What kind of Devian royalty doesn’t even know her own traditions?”

“The kind that doesn’t treat tradition as a sport, Your Imperial Highness.” She says begrudgingly as the elders returned and took the tray fro