chapter seven

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Garroth's POV

Before breakfast, I requested an audience with my own brother. It's the last day of Alex's visit, and she'll be leaving early tomorrow morning. I think it's time Vylad confesses to Alex of his deceit towards her. Otherwise, he'll allow her to leave in a state of oblivion.

"You called for me, dear brother?" Vylad asks, walking into my chambers.

I motion for him to take a seat in the chair across from mine, insisting we talk about pressing matters. It's clear he knows what topic I wish to speak about because he shakes his head and begins to stand up, dismissing it. "Vylad, I command you to sit down."

"You can't command me of anything, Garroth," he says, standing from his place. "You are not king yet. Only the heir."

My teeth clutch together. "I'll tell her."

He stops in his place, looking at me in disbelief. Vylad's mouth opens to speak, but he doesn't dare test me and decides to oblige with my words. His hands dramatically go to rest themselves at the end of the chair's arms, his sitting following after. He bows his head at me, his hand waving for me to continue. "Please, Your Highness, how may I be of service to you?"

My inhale is sharp, and I go to slam my hand against the table separating us. He's in the wrong, but he's acting self-entitled. It's evident he has little interest in what I have to say, and it dawns on me that I'm beginning to act like my father.

That scares me.

I force my hand to stop in midair. My breath becomes a shaky exhale when I try to calm myself down. Vylad takes notice of the sudden change of the room's aura and straightens in his posture, his face relaxing.

"Garroth, are you alright?" he asks. "You're worrying me."

My hands go behind me to find the arms of my chair, legs dependent on finding them. I feel like my knees will go out. I feel sick. I bring my fist up to my mouth, pressing my lips tightly against my fore finger. I can hear my breath against the skin of my knuckles.

I swallow the spit in my mouth and inhale once again. "Vylad, please tell her."

"Garroth, you know I can't."

Silence overtakes us, and I can't bring myself to look my brother in the eye any longer. My eyes cast their attention to my side, becoming quite gloomy in their stare. "She's going to be hurt, you know. She may not be able to forgive you," I start. "Everything she knows about you is a lie, brother. A lie that you constructed. Have you no mind on how she'd feel that she accepted a proposal conducted by a valet? How cheated she'd feel? Vylad, I asked you before to end this plan of yours. Now, I'm begging you."

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Alex's POV

I decided that on my last day in O'Khasis, I wanted to give the prince the majority of my day. We had seen each other earlier during breakfast, so when I returned to my chambers, I had Adeline help me change into my walking suit.

I sent for her to wait with my parasol near the entryway while I briskly walk around with my hat pinned to my head. I cannot find either the prince nor his valet, but I nearly stumbled into the queen when I turned a corner to where I knew his bedchambers were. I should've sent Adeline in my place. This looks improper.

"Alex, are you alright? You're walking with urgency."

"Your Majesty," I say, eyes wide. "My apologies. I was looking for the prince. I was hoping he could spare some time for me for a walk in the garden."

Her expression changes from one of concern to a softer, humbled, smile. "Oh, that sounds lovely. If I know my son well enough, if he isn't anywhere else, he's in the library. I'll bring you there."

I question myself why I hadn't thought of the library before I went on this chase. His chambers are filled with books littering every inch. His desk has space for only a piece of paper in the center for him to write his letters or for his notes and observations.

Her walk is incredibly regal, and her chin is held high. It's evident that she is aware of the power she holds, but she gives off such a humble persona that it could easily be mistaken if they didn't know of her position.

The doors are pushed open, and she walks in, expecting me to follow suit. She doesn't look behind her to see if I do. "Vylad? Are you here?" She asks, peeking her head around the corner.

I stand beside the queen when she stops, looking forward to a large area for lounging.

Anthony doesn't bother looking up from his book, and I find it rude until his mouth opens. "Yes, mother. I'm reading."

Bile builds up in the back of my throat, fighting to push through. It nearly wins until I force myself to swallow what sits there. He's not a valet but a liar, and I'm a fool for believing him.

"Wonderful. I think it'd be nice of you to take the princess on a walk around the garden before it grows late." She turns to me and nods her head in acknowledgement. "I'll see you both for dinner."

Her footsteps aren't nearly as fast as they were walking here, but everything feels slow. I can hear the beating of my heart, and that is the only thing that appears to contrast against how frozen in place everything feels.

"How dare you," I whisper. Vylad momentarily stiffens. His book quickly shuts, and he throws it to the side of him before he stands in his place. "You played me for a fool!"

"I–Alex, you weren't supposed–"

"To know. Correct? I wasn't supposed to be aware of your deception. You took me for a fool and had me thinking of a future with a valet! When was I going to learn the truth? On my wedding day, when I lift my head up and look down the aisle to see the face of a liar? I trusted you, and you betrayed me!"

His steps are fast, and he reaches to grab onto my hands. I retreat in disgust, commanding that he resorts from touching me. I feel ill from this situation, and his touch makes me feel worse because it is one from a traitor.

"When we are married, you may play your games. But please, do not feel obligated to involve me in them. And despite what I may think of you at this moment, I know that you will continue to own my hand in marriage because no one wants to marry someone as illegitimate as we are!"

I go to turn, and he calls out for me. Despite my protests against it, he grabs onto my wrist to prevent me from running further out of his sight.

"Alex, stop!"

I have to fight back tears because those are a sign of weakness. I will not break in front of a traitor. "I have known your true identity for no more than three minutes, and you have failed to properly call me by my title," I spat. "I bid you good day, Your Highness. I fear I will not be in attendance for dinner. I feel an illness coming along."

Vylad doesn't chase after me when I rush out of the room. The sound of my heels bounce off of the monotonous walls, and each step blurs more than the last. I hear a voice call out my name, but it is not Vylad's.

I allow the doors of my chambers to slam against the thick walls before they collide into one another. My hand goes to grasp onto my bodice, and it fails to lift with a fistful of fabric. Instead, it retreats to the broach at my neck, with little concern for the lace that decorates alongside it. I'm leaning up against the post of my bed by the time I rip the pin out of my hat and throw it across the bed. My hands dig into my hair, teeth clenching and tears escaping.

The doors open, and Adeline gasps before rushing to my side. Her words sound like she speaks underwater, and I instruct her to strip me down to my chemise as I do not feel well and will explain more in the carriage.

She does so without another word, and my tears of anger soon turn into sadness. Once I'm in my chemise and wrapped in my dressing gown, I sit in my chair preparing myself to write a letter to my father, begging him to prevent the wedding from occurring at all costs.

That letter was foolish and was burnt by my own hand with my candle. 

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