AlastairAttempting to suppress the amusement, I slid my hands into my pockets, my lips twitching ever so slightly. "I have no problem with that." The corner of my mouth curled into a small smirk as I observed Chelsea's reaction. Ms. Beth was known for her unwavering determination to assist whenever I needed it, and her offer to Chelsea seemed genuine.“I am getting late.” I stated, my tone neutral. It was true—I had no objections to her tying my tie. If anything, her unease brought an element of entertainment to the situation.Chelsea's expression remained devoid of color as her gaze shifted between Ms. Beth and me. The uncertainty in her eyes was palpable, and I couldn't help but relish her unease.Her protest came quickly, her words masked by a tight grin. "I don't know how to..."Before she could finish her sentence, I interrupted her with a wicked grin. "Well, I can teach you that... of course, if you want." My tone was laced with a hint of mischief, a challenge and I was fully aw
ChelseaI turned my head upward with the tiniest hint of a smile. When he smiled back, it caused my heart to start racing at its most rapid rate. Damn it! The grumpy Prince was smiling. I hadn't seen him smile like this until now. My eyes widened, and at that precise instant, our faces were so close to each other that I could feel his breath blowing against my face."Ahm!"To the interruption of Ms. Beth's deliberate coughs, both of us lunged away from each other. I rolled my eyes while Alastair moved back to the dressing table and once again, fixed his hair, unnecessarily.Ms. Beth couldn't stop herself from guffawing. "Would you like me to leave?"He reached over to the nightstand and grabbed his handkerchief before stuffing it into one of the pockets of his jacket while shaking his head. "No. It is necessary for you to be here. Otherwise, she won't even touch the food."My brows furrowed. My head was spinning from the realization that he had been correct the whole time. We had barel
AlastairThe royal study was adorned with opulence, the scent of aged books and polished wood lingering in the air. My focus had been captured by the pages of a book when Ryle's voice pulled me from my thoughts. "Your highness, I have handled the papers to your mother and reported to her that you won't be attending the court today. However, she..." his voice trailed off, his expression uneasy.I abandoned the book on the shelf and turned towards Ryle, his demeanor suggesting there was more to the situation than he was sharing. Slowly, I approached him, taking the file from his outstretched hands. His words about my mother's insistence rang in my ears, a repetitive phrase she used whenever I resisted my routine obligations. She had a way of getting her way, even when I thought I could avoid her requests."She insisted. If I still can't, she wants me to meet her in person." I finished Ryle's sentence for him, a sigh escaping my lips. The routine was becoming tiresome—her constant demands
AlastairThe sudden call to attention shattered the silence, prompting both Ryle and me to turn in unison. Our gaze settled on the room where magic and meditation took place. From its depths emerged an elderly gentleman, his presence commanding respect and reverence. Clad in all black, his attire exuded an air of wisdom and authority. A grey leather belt encircled his waist, a striking contrast against the darkness of his tunic. The scapula he wore, with a black cowl attached, completed his ensemble."Mr. Smolder, how are things going?" I inquired, addressing the monk with silver hair. As he pushed back his hood, his scars came into full view, a map of experiences etched onto his skin. Kris Smolder, a figure known to only a few.Kris's response was laced with weariness, his gaze drifting toward the other monks who were meditating within the chamber. "We are doing everything in our power to discover a means to break the spell. But… the chants keep getting interrupted. It packs quite a p
Chelsea"Can we not skip this part?" I whimpered, trying to suppress the ticklish sensations on the heel of my feet. The young maid attending to me struggled to contain her laughter, her composed demeanor faltering slightly as she continued to use a pumice stone to scrub my foot. "This is the most important part, Miss," she responded with a hint of amusement, applying steady pressure to my soaked toe. "And, also, if we skip anything, Ms. Beth would be furious."I stifled a sigh, biting down on my lower lip. The maid was right. Ms. Beth, the head of the staff, had made it abundantly clear that certain procedures were to be followed precisely. In the evening, after Alastair's secretary had come to collect the list of my needs, Ms. Beth had personally escorted me to this quarter and issued a strict warning to stay put, lest she inform the Prince himself. It seemed that blackmail was a well-practiced skill among the residents of the palace.I allowed myself to relax into the chair, trying
ChelseaAlastair failed to provide an answer to my query. His gaze that was fixed on my lips until now averted elsewhere as he pulled me up from the chair, his hand warm against mine. "Let's get out of here.""Where are we going?" Once again, he remained silent, offering no response as he gave me a moment to slip on my sandals before he gently tugged me out of the quarter. The uncertainty of our destination only heightened my curiosity.The garden stretched before us, encompassing the backyard of the palace and offering an oasis of nature amid the grandeur. As we stepped into the garden, I couldn't help but notice the quarters tucked away in corners, likely dedicated to various tasks and training. Alastair led me toward an ancient giant tree that stood at the edge of the garden, near the woods.“At the very least, this tree is over 5,000 years old," Alastair spoke, his voice carrying a touch of reverence. "The thing is known by the name Gilgi." He continued describing the tree's featur
AlastairSwallowing the lump in my throat, I summoned every bit of willpower I had left to speak up. "This is the first time in over a century that I've been hugged like this... let's say, I don't like to be hugged at all," I admitted, my tone betraying a hint of dryness. The words felt foreign on my tongue, as if my body was struggling to form them.My gaze shifted to the spot where the lemur had been, my lips moving almost incoherently as I muttered, "And the lemur has left already." It was as if my own body was refusing to cooperate, the strange mix of emotions still lingering within me.As Chelsea drew back, I couldn't help but notice her nervousness, the way she bit her lip, a telltale sign of her unease. I took a deep breath to steady myself, trying to regain my composure."Thank you, baby," I managed to say, my voice carrying a note of sincerity. Her grip on my shirt had left it slightly damp with sweat, a tangible reminder of her anxiety.However, her reaction to the same word
ChelseaI couldn't deny it; the Prince of Frost Falls was a master at sidestepping questions, attempting to divert the conversation with his enigmatic manner. "No. Every question has an answer," I countered, my voice firm. I wasn't about to let him escape with his usual tactics this time.There was no doubt in my mind that he disliked me. Hatred might be too strong a word, but there was a definite level of animosity present between us. Our bond, as lackluster as it was, seemed to fuel that negative energy.His response was unexpected, catching me off guard. "Really? Then, ask yourself: If your parents were so harsh, what makes you think you'd want to protect them?" I offered a nonchalant shrug, not one to shy away from confronting uncomfortable truths. "Well, let's say my options are limited. I only have them. It's the same reason I'm here, after all. In order to safeguard them, I'm stuck staying. And I have no way out of this one. My fault is... I'm not sure what I did to offend you.