Dear Ophelia

Chapter Nine

"Are you a keyboard? 'Cause you're just my type."

"Why were you in there, Ophelia?" Novae asked.

"Well, I was handing back his hoodie and-" Ophelia started.

"Wait! Are you saying that you met him before this!?" Madeline yelled.

"Yes." Ophelia murmured meekly.

Montague looked like he was one second away from rushing back into Ivo's room and punching him.

"Okay. Okay. Ophelia start from the beginning." Novae sighed, sending warning glares at the other two.

"I went on a walk last night and I met him at a bench. He gave me his hoodie because it was cold and when I woke up this morning I still had it. So I went into his room and..." Ophelia frowned.

She couldn't tell the others that he was having nightmares. It wasn't her place to tell.

"And...?" Madeline pushed.

"And he... asked if I wanted to watch TV with him. We fell asleep watching some soap operas."

Novae looked at Ophelia. She knew that she was lying.

She didn't push. There normally was a good reason as to why Ophelia did.

"Why couldn't King Ivo tell us this himself?" Romeo scoffed.

"He... can't." Ophelia whispered.

"What?"

"I don't know what happened but he can't speak anymore. He was looking for his notepad when you asked him your questions."

"Oh shit." Montague put his head in his hands. "I've got to apologise."

...

A couple hours after the incident, his father visited and he handed him an envelope.

It was time to get rid of that stupid engagement.

"What is this?" His father asked quietly, slowly putting the papers down.

Paito Solar had worked himself up from scratch. He was a perfect rags to riches fairy tale prince. His silver hair matched his son's but his eyes were a deep black.

"Father, I'm sorry, but I don't think I should get married to Ophelia." He scribbled down.

"Why?" His father asked. "I know you love her. You have ever since you met her. Why do you think I kept the two of you together until now?" He exclaimed.

Ivo's eyebrows shot up in shock. What?

"I know about the little notes you send her. Hell! I know you have a stack of love letters you have hidden under your bed.

First off, I'm sorry for intruding on your privacy but the maid was cleaning and asked if any of the papers were important.

I'm sorry if I misinterpreted it but I really wanted you to be happy. You've seen how she looks at you. She loves you. Why give that up?"

Ivo frowned, trying to process it.

"If love is like anything you and mom went through, she doesn't deserve it. I don't want to hurt or disappoint her.
Why settle for someone broken when you can get someone better?" He wrote.

A beat of silence pulsed.

"Ivo. I'm sorry." His father put his head in his hands. "I promise you that love, true love, is nothing like me and your mother.

The way you care for Ophelia shows how much that is true. You were willing to give her up so she could be happy.

Trust me, you are better than you think you are." The older man said.