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

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

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

Alastair"What? Sleepy?" I asked, my brows furrowing in concern as I watched Chelsea make her way to the bed and sit down. Something seemed off, and her actions raised alarm bells in my mind.Her fingers clenched the fabric of her skirt tightly, and she shook her head in response to my question. My worry deepened, and I couldn't help but observe her closely, my gaze searching for any signs of distress."Hungry? Want something to eat?" I inquired, my voice gentle as I tried to decipher the cause of her discomfort. It was clear that she was struggling with something, and I wanted to offer any assistance I could.Once again, she shook her head, her discomfort becoming more pronounced. I studied her expression carefully, my concern growing with each passing moment.Scanning the room and then turning my attention back to her, I finally understood what might be happening. "Is it too cold here? Should I increase the temperature?" I suggested, hoping that adjusting the room's temperature might

AlastairI watched the sun light filtering through the curtains, the gentle glow casting soft shadows across the room. I sat there, in the rocking chair, my mind wandering through the darkness, thoughts scattering like leaves caught in the wind. Then, I glanced to my side, and my breath caught in my throat. There she was—Chelsea, wrapped in a cocoon of white sheets, strands of her hair framing her face like the brush strokes of a master artist.I finally decided to give up on the idea of sleep. Slowly, I stood up,, my feet touching the cool wooden floor.Moving to the bathroom, I splashed cold water on my face, hoping to shake off the grogginess that clung to my senses. After a quick shower, I dressed in a black shirt and dark trousers.As I entered the bedroom again, my gaze was drawn to Chelsea, sleeping soundly on my bed. It was an unfamiliar sight, having someone else in my space, someone who had managed to enter my room and my life in a way no one else had before. She lay there, h