47. Alastair

Alastair

I watched as the colors drained from Chelsea's face, her expression a mix of fear and shock. It puzzled me—I couldn't fathom what had caused such a reaction. Was my presence frightening to her? Did my words come across as creepy? I found myself grasping for answers that eluded me.

"Y-your Highness. W-what am I doing here? On... on your bed?" Her voice quivered, and she averted her gaze, looking anywhere but at me. The tension in the room was palpable, and I sensed her unease. I had unwittingly put her in a difficult position, and I struggled to understand why.

I exhaled softly and turned my attention back to the laptop screen in front of me. "Sleep, Chelsea," I replied, my tone low and steady. The way her name sounded on my lips—more intimate than before—didn't escape my notice. It was a name I hadn't paid much attention to until now, and the way it rolled off my tongue sent a shiver down my spine.

She shifted slightly, clearly trying to maintain her composure. "I should go ba