Nel

  I never expected gratitude to grace those proud lips of hers—the same ones that seemed permanently curved in distaste whenever I entered a room. How fascinating to watch our fierce little minx princess actually form the words “thank you.” Perhaps she’d practiced them beforehand in front of a mirror, along with those defiant glares she’d perfected.

  The women of court practically tripped over their own gowns at the mere possibility of catching my eye. A simple glance their way, and they’d dissolve into giggling, blushing messes. But Lor? Oh no. Her Highness had to be different. Had to stand there like some unmovable force of nature, challenging my dominance as if she actually believed herself my equal. How… refreshing. Irritating, but refreshing.

  I found myself wanting to melt that ice wall she'd built—to watch her carefully constructed defenses crumble under the heat of my gaze. The fire in my eyes had reduced stronger opponents to compliant shadows of themselves. Yet she remained stubbornly, infuriatingly unbreakable. Those few moments we'd spent alone had revealed enough, though. Behind all that bravado, she could barely maintain her composure in my presence. Her pulse would quicken, her breath would catch—small betrayals her body couldn't hide, no matter how straight she kept her spine.

  I caught myself thinking about her far too often—analyzing her gestures, her sharp retorts, the way she lifted her chin in that insufferably proud way whenever I entered a room. As if being difficult was some sort of art form she'd perfected. And here I was finding myself curious about what went on behind those fierce silver eyes. Pathetic, really. An amused grin formed as I realized how thoroughly she'd managed to get under my skin.

  Still, I refused to lose sight of her purpose in Ustoria: to become my wife, bear an heir, and simply exist while I ruled the kingdom and, someday, Agarta. Nothing more. Let her play at being a rebel princess—soon enough she'd learn her place. Though something told me she'd make every step of that journey as difficult as possible. How utterly... the princess.

  These circular thoughts about her were getting me nowhere. I refocused on Cassius and Lucien, who were still sparring in the courtyard below. The familiar clang of their practice swords offered a grounding presence. I cleared my throat, flexing my shoulders.

  We’d been inseparable since diapers, though they never forgot who wore the crown. A tight grin formed as I approached. At least these two knew their place, most of the time.

  “Cassius, you have the advantage,” I called out, unable to resist injecting my expertise. “Lunge now!”

  “Whose side are you really on?” Lucien grunted, his blue eyes flashing with that familiar petulance. He spun away from the blade with one of his theatrical flourishes—always the showman—but Cassius countered with an upward strike to the chest. Predictable.

  “For a moment,” I drawled, “I actually thought Lucien would best you.”

  “Right!” Cassius slicked back his mane, chest heaving like he’d run miles instead of dancing around the courtyard, still a playful smirk. “Like I’d let this one beat me.”

  “I could have,” Lucien snapped, demonstrating his intended finishing move with all the dramatic flair of a street performer. “Our prince distracted me.”

  “Nonetheless, you’re both brilliant fighters.” I couldn’t help but smile at Lucien’s perfectionism—always an excuse, always a reason when he didn’t win. Some things never changed.

  A smirk swelled Lucien’s cheeks, curling his thin mustache. “Cassius’s first triumph, and now he’s brilliant? I beg to differ.” His eye beamed at Cassius. “Don’t forget who showed you your moves.”

  “Whatever helps you sleep at night,” Cassius retorted before turning to me with that gleam in his eye I knew too well. “What were you and the princess talking about?”

  “She was thanking me for rescuing her.” I found myself staring at the grass, still somewhat mystified by the gesture. Perhaps there was hope for her yet.

  “And Ann?” Cassius pressed his lips together, barely containing his amusement at what he likely saw as some grand romantic drama. If he only knew.

  Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

  Her name snapped me from my thoughts. “What about her? I’ve sent her home.” My tone hardened as I considered the circumstances that led to my decision. The princess. That ill-advised introduction between her and Ann. While I harbored no romantic feelings for the princess, her comfort in Ustoria was paramount, and that meant Ann's departure was necessary. “That’s all I’d like to say about it.”

  The humor drained from Cassius’s face. “Very well, my prince.”

  The afternoon slipped away like water through cupped hands, and soon enough, the weight of ceremony pressed in again. War preparations wait for no man, not even a prince with an unwilling bride and a complicated love life.

  The ceremony was set for six o’clock sharp. I caught myself glancing at the wall clock again—five fifteen. My steps echoed against the floorboard as I approached the mirror, scrutinizing my ruby red uniform from shoulder to ankles. Everything had to be perfect. My pupils dilated as I checked each gold-encrusted badge. All accounted for. I caught myself playing with the red tassels—a childhood habit I’d never quite shaken.

  Adjusting my scarlet button-up’s collar for the hundredth time, I drew in a deep breath. Then, because the gods clearly enjoyed testing my patience, my bedroom door creaked open.

  Ann slipped inside like a shadow, as if she belonged there. As if I hadn’t explicitly told her to leave.

  “I thought I sent you home.” My voice carried all the enthusiasm of a funeral dirge.

  “You think I’d miss your ceremony?” She sashayed closer, all practiced seduction. “Besides, there’s so much catching up we need to do.” Her arms snaked around my waist, lips brushing the curve of my neck. “If you know what I mean.”

  “Not right now.” I shrugged her off, watching her step back in the mirror’s reflection.

  “What’s your problem? Is it the war that has you worked up? You know you’ll win.”

  “It’s just—” I turned to face her, letting my irritation show. “This isn’t just some petty skirmish against lycans. We’re facing something far more powerful. I don’t need any distractions right now.” I softened my tone slightly. “As soon as this is over, I will send for you.”

  “You cannot tell me creatures like Valmorin have you worried. You’ve fought monsters way worse.”

  When I didn’t respond, she pressed on, her voice taking on that edge I’d grown to detest. “Is it her? I told you I wouldn’t go after your little princess. No matter how angry I am about her stealing my crown or my future husband.”

  “Of course not.” I cut her off. “Listen, you can attend the ceremony, but afterward, you must return to Numoria.”

  “As long as you throw a kiss in the deal.”

  “Come here.” I stroked her cheek, pulling her against my chest. Our lips met, and I kissed her with practiced efficiency, letting her believe what she wanted to believe. She granted full access, eager as always, and I played my part. A grunt escaped when her fingers tangled in my hair.

  She pulled away, breathless. “Fuck me now!”

  Hunger and lust flamed in her eyes, but I had no intention of feeding either. “You know we can’t. The ceremony starts in less than an hour.”

  “After?”

  “Ann!” My patience finally snapped. “I know what you’re doing.”

  “And what is that?”

  “You’re still trying to make me prove myself to you, even after our talk. That’s why you came back, isn’t it?”

  “Of course! You’re fighting a battle for our enemies, and soon, you’ll marry one. You seem so devoted to them. To HER, especially after her little accident! You didn’t think I’d find out?”

  “We’ve already discussed why this is happening. The Valmorin are a threat to all of us, not just them. Besides, peace will stop the bloodshed of our people.” I met her accusatory stare. “And whoever told you I saved the princess, did they also mention if I hadn’t, she would have died?”

  “I don’t give a shit. What does this mean for us?”

  “I am not discussing this right now. There are greater matters at stake, above our relationship.” My voice turned sharp. “Can you stop putting yourself first all the time?”

  “Fine!” Her heels stabbed the floor as she stormed out.

  Ann's dramatic exit left a bitter taste in my mouth, but I couldn't dwell on it. Time was running short, and royal duties beckoned. Besides, family summons weren't optional, even for a prince about to lead his people to war.

  I turned back to the mirror, exhausted by the drama. One final inspection of my attire. I guess I look like a future king. Though honestly, I was beginning to wonder what that even meant anymore.

  Five forty-five. Another ceremony, another performance of royal duty. I rushed through the corridor, adjusting my uniform’s collar. The castle always felt like a chessboard—every movement calculated, every interaction a potential strategy.

  Cassius caught me in the hallway. “Your parents are requesting you in the meeting chambers.”

  “What for?”

  “I’m not sure.”

  The meeting room—tucked behind the library, close to the yard. I entered, bowing slightly. “Mother, father.”

  Father looked up from his documents. “I will be leaving for Bauruth in the morning.”

  Confusion crinkled my forehead. “You’re not fighting with us?”

  “I have important matters to handle,” he responded, his tone leaving no room for further questioning. Mother stood behind his chair, her red dress sharp against the wooden backdrop.

  “Don’t you look the part,” she said with a half-smile.

  “It’s not my first war ceremony.” I nodded. Another strategic move. But in this game, the stakes were higher than ever before, and I had a growing suspicion I was playing with a deck I didn't fully understand.