All Chapters of Bared To You : Chapter 51 - Chapter 60

StevenAs soon as I stepped out of the palace gates, the humid breeze of Havindelle wrapped around me, thick with the scent of roasted suya drifting from the nearby food stalls set up along the roadside. In the distance, the faint voices of traders closing up shop still echoed through the evening air. I walked slowly, each step deliberate, letting the weight of what had just happened sink in.Princess Miranda is hooked.Not entirely, not yet—but she’s curious. Curious enough to ask questions. Curious enough to feel something.And curiosity, I’ve learned, is how obsession begins.I followed the narrow footpath that ran past the row of mango trees just beyond the palace fence, then turned onto the road that led back toward town. In the distance, I could hear the shrill laughter of children playing with old tires, the steady hum of a generator coming from the betting shop at the corner, and the echo of a church bell ringing out the call to evening prayer. I wasn’t ready to go home yet.

Leonidas I stared blankly at the document on my laptop screen, its words blurring into meaningless symbols. My mind wasn’t here, wasn’t in this office surrounded by polished mahogany and shelves stacked with royal decrees. No.... it was miles away, tethered to the silence of my phone. I was waiting for a call, clinging to the hope that the bodyguards I’d dispatched to Havindelle would finally bring me good news.This was my last shot. My final, desperate attempt to find my prodigal son—the heir to Mercia’s throne. If they didn’t find him there, in that small, quiet town, then he didn’t want to be found. The thought made my chest tighten. Or worse… he’s hiding so well because he blames me. I exhaled sharply through my nose. No — I couldn’t go there. Not tonight. Not ever.I just prayed he wasn’t… gone. Out of this world. It was less devastating to imagine him hiding somewhere, angry at me, than to imagine him dead.The thought sliced through me sharper than any blade. I clenched my

Maximillian The bell above the door jingled as I walked into Cream and Crust, the familiar scent of coffee and sugar wrapping around me like a fleeting comfort. My eyes scanned the café, searching automatically for Edwina’s sisters. Please don’t let it be all three of them here. I can barely handle one of them without getting grilled alive.Relief loosened my chest when I spotted Esther working behind the counter. Alone. She was busy with a customer, so I lingered near the pastry display, pretending to study the muffins while silently rehearsing what I was going to say.I need help. I messed up. I hurt Edwina and I don’t even know if I can fix this.The customer left, and I made a beeline for Esther.“Hi, Justice.” She smiled, cheerful and unsuspecting. “Fancy seeing you here.”“I need your help,” I said, skipping any preamble. Subtlety was a luxury I didn’t have right now.Esther arched a brow, half-amused, half-curious. “Uh oh. What did you do?” Then her expression shifted knowing

Maximillian The days blurred into one another, each one heavier than the last. Between falling ill just weeks after working on that cursed pig farm, making desperate yet pathetic attempts to win back Edwina’s good graces—and failing miserably every single time, keeping an eye out for the return of my father’s bodyguards, and trying to dodge the suffocating claws of a spoiled, persistent princess, I was exhausted.More than exhausted. Some nights, the thought of ending it all—just snuffing myself out and getting it over with—clung to me like a shadow.I sat on a makeshift chair behind the house, my head buried in my hands, wishing for silence, wishing for escape, when the familiar sound of tires crunching on gravel broke through my thoughts. My heart seized in my chest.Damn it. They’ve come for me. Father’s finally had enough.The idea of his bodyguards dragging me back by force, back into the cage I’d fled from, sent me spiraling toward the edge of a panic attack. My chest grew tigh

Maximillian A heavy silence stretched in the chamber after my words. The kind of silence that made the air feel too thick to breathe.King Anthony’s smile faltered, the faintest crack in his polished mask. His fingers drummed lightly on the armrest of his chair as if weighing whether to lash out or laugh it off.“You’re a bold young man,” he finally said, his tone clipped. “Very bold.”I held his gaze. Bold? No. Just tired of being pushed around by people who think they own the world.His eyes narrowed. “Most men would kill for the chance I’m offering you.”“Then perhaps you should find one of them,” I replied evenly. My voice was calm, almost polite, but the defiance was unmistakable.For a moment, his jaw tightened. I could almost see the fury simmering beneath his kingly composure. But then, to my surprise, he chuckled. Low at first, then louder.“You really don’t care for titles or riches, do you?” he mused. “No wonder she likes you. You’re not like the other fools who prostrated