Lahat ng Kabanata ng Tempting the Wrong Prince: Kabanata 71 - Kabanata 80

Arden’s POV Everyone rose immediately, not out of loyalty, but out of obligation and fear. Chairs scraped back in a jagged symphony. Robes swished. Shoes clicked into formation. Richard bowed deeply, head bent so low it was almost desperate. Ivana dipped in a graceful curtsy, the kind that was technically perfect but spiritually mocking. Ministers, advisors, and guards aligned themselves in neat rows, their performance of reverence polished through generations of survival. I bowed last. Slowly. Always slowly. The King’s eyes flicked toward me briefly. It was only a fraction of a second, but I had spent a lifetime being dissected in those glances. The tension in his jaw told me everything: he didn’t want me here, but he needed me here. A contradiction that defined most of my life. “Be seated,” he commanded, and the murmurs died instantly, like someone had snuffed out the air in the room. The court settled. Silk rustled. Chairs creaked. Breaths were held. The King didn’t was

Arden’s POVThe court session dragged for hours.Voices rose and fell like the rise and crash of a storm tide. Papers were waved in the air, some angrily, some pleadingly. Accusations cut through the hall like arrows, each one tipped with poison, each one aimed to wound rather than to solve anything.Ministers snapped at one another like feral dogs fighting over scraps of influence. Advisors muttered beneath their breath. The scribes looked exhausted, their hands cramped from documenting nonsense that should never have reached a royal chamber.The entire hall was suffocating under its own incompetence.Eventually, the King lifted a hand.A single gesture. A weary one.“Enough,” he declared. “We will continue this tomorrow. Court is adjourned.”Everyone bowed.Everyone exhaled.Everyone left with a little less dignity than they came in with.As I rose from my seat, I felt Richard’s eyes burning holes into my spine. A stare heavy enough to make the back of my neck prickle.He didn’t s

Arden’s POVThe absence gnawed at me.I hated that it did. I hated that she could do this to me , rupture the perfect emotional distance I’d built, stone by stone, over years of survival. But the truth was unavoidable:From the moment she whispered, “Arden, it’s me,” over that fragile stolen phone call… something in me had snapped.Something old. Something fortified. Something built to protect me.The ministers kept talking.“…if we invest now, the northern farmlands might, ” “…Belmont is withholding grain exports, the shipments have been delayed, ” “…perhaps a joint water venture with the Longmans, ”Their voices droned like insects buzzing near a flame.I forced myself to remain still. To appear engaged. To act like a prince whose life wasn’t quietly being dismantled behind palace walls.But the truth was simple:I did not care.I didn’t care about their proposals. I didn’t care about their desperate ideas. I didn’t care about the masks of loyalty or the empty pr

Arden’s POVThe King stood nearby, his approving nods fueling the ministers’ enthusiasm. They looked at him the way desperate men look at a torch in the dark, not because it offers warmth, but because it offers survival. To them, tonight was a triumph.They saw a saviour in me. A prince securing an alliance with Belmonte strong enough to keep Eldenwald from collapsing under the weight of drought and political decay. A prince choosing duty over desire.They cheered for me.Cheered for a future I never chose. Cheered for a lie choreographed behind silk curtains.And all I could think was:Cassandra. Cassandra. Cassandra.Her face. Her voice trembling against the static of Diana’s phone. Her breath hitching as she whispered my name. The quiet fear threaded through her question, the fear she tried to hide even from herself:“Arden… is there something you want to tell me?”I had never hated a room more in my life.The lights, the music, the applause, the watching eyes, all of it blur

Cassandra’s POV“It will be a huge downgrade, My Lady. You know this court. They’ll call you names. They’ll treat you like you’re nothing. Competing with Nala Longman? Being compared publicly? Constantly? It will break you,” Diana said.Her words felt like blunt blows landing one after the other. Each one hurt, but each one was true. And the truth was always an unforgiving weapon in this palace.More tears gathered. Hot. Heavy. Exhausting.“And besides,” Diana continued, rubbing my shoulder gently, “you know the King. He will not allow you to marry Arden. Ever. Even if you’re free. Arden is his favourite, and to the king you are tainted. The court won’t allow it either. Not after the scandal. You know how they think.”“I know,” I whispered.The words tasted like blood. Like something inside me was severing itself to make space for this acceptance.“Even if you leave Richard,” she went on, her voice soft but mercilessly rational, “Arden will have to marry Nala. Eventually. And even if h