บททั้งหมดของ Tempting the Wrong Prince: บทที่ 21 - บทที่ 30

Cassandra’s POVThe palace walls had never felt so suffocating.When Richard left me that night, the silence afterward was deafening. I didn’t eat the food Diana begged me to try; I barely touched the water left on the bedside. My body was weak, but my mind wouldn’t stop racing. The news ran in loops, the words treason, scandal, betrayal striking again and again like hammer blows.I tried to sleep, but my dreams were broken fragments of my parents’ faces, Richard’s plea, Ivana’s smirk, Arden’s steady eyes. Every time I closed my eyes, one of them haunted me.By morning, exhaustion had hollowed me. My reflection in the mirror startled me, pale skin, eyes rimmed with shadows, lips cracked from thirst. Still, I refused the trays of delicacies the maids brought. My stomach rejected the thought of swallowing anything in this poisoned place.Hours passed. Nothing changed. Guards remained stationed outside, a constant reminder that I was a prisoner disguised as a princess.And when despair p

Cassandra’s POVThe villa was silent, wrapped in the velvet hush of night. I had just begun to settle into the guest suite when a knock at the door startled me. My heart stilled, then thumped again.Diana peeked at me from the bed, but it was the maid’s soft voice that carried through the heavy wood.“Your Highness,” she said, bowing when I opened the door, “the Prince invites you to the garden for stargazing.”For a moment, I only blinked. The Prince. Arden.Heat spread through me, absurd and irrational. Why should my heart flutter at the thought of joining him? It was stargazing, nothing more. Yet the very idea left me breathless.I nodded, unable to find words, and closed the door to steady myself. My gaze flicked to the mirror, and what I saw made my pulse spike higher.I wore my silk nightgown, the one I had packed without thought, soft ivory that clung to every curve. My robe hung loosely over it, doing little to mask the sensual shimmer of the fabric beneath. My bare skin glowe

Arden’s POVThe phone rang before dawn, dragging me from the silence of the villa. The King’s voice was curt, clipped, and utterly predictable.Report to the palace immediately.I didn’t need to ask why. Of course, it was about Cassandra. About my “defiance.” About breaking her out of the palace without so much as a bow or permission.I didn’t care.For her, I would burn the palace to ash.I stood at the balcony as the first blush of morning painted the horizon. The air was cool, heavy with the smell of dew and smoke from the city beyond.My chest ached with everything I had kept buried for years, wanting Cassandra but convincing myself she wanted something else.Five years ago, I could have reached for her. I could have ignored Ivana’s machinations, ignored the Montclairs’ ambition, ignored the throne that never tempted me. But she hadn’t fought. She hadn’t resisted. And when she didn’t, I told myself she wanted Richard. That she wanted to be Queen.So I stayed away. Out of respect.

Cassandra's POVI didn’t wake until late in the morning. For the first time in weeks, I had actually slept without nightmares dragging me into darkness. The soft light spilled through the silk curtains, and for a fleeting second, I thought maybe the world had shifted overnight. Maybe the kiss beneath the stars had rewoven the broken threads of my life.When Diana slipped into the room, she carried a tray of breakfast and that knowing smile of hers.“His Highness asked me to tell you he’ll be back soon,” she said as she set the tray on the table.Arden. The very mention of him sent a rush through my chest. The memory of his kiss, the gentleness that turned untamed, the way his mouth had claimed mine, the way I had melted into him without shame, came flooding back with such intensity that I had to lower my gaze.I sat at the little table, the tea steaming, the croissants untouched. My appetite was gone; in its place, anticipation bloomed hot and restless.Would he come back and look at m

Cassandra’s POVThe room was no longer just a room. It was a furnace, a battlefield, a stage for a moment I had both dreaded and craved. Every second stretched thin, trembling with the knowledge of what was about to happen. My body thrummed with anticipation, every nerve drawn taut, every breath short and shallow as if I had run miles yet stood perfectly still.Arden’s gaze pinned me in place. There was hunger in his eyes, yes, but also something fiercer, something that claimed me before he even touched me. It terrified me, because I wanted it. Because it meant stepping over a line I could never uncross.I should have thought of Richard. I should have thought of vows, of crowns, of duty. But Richard’s memory felt cold and distant, while Arden’s presence was fire licking at my skin, demanding to be felt.When his lips crashed onto mine, I was already yielding. The kiss was not tentative; it was raw possession, a claim written into every brush of his mouth. My gasp opened me further to