The Royal Curse

Twenty Five - Ten O'Clock

Senna Aldorban

The clock struck two hours before midnight.

Prince Kace spoke only to the guests. Throughout the night, I tried to catch his attention, but he never looked over, came over, or even gestured for me. After the conversation with Duke Wade, it was as if I never existed.

That was best. Although my chest grew annoyingly heavy every minute Kace avoided me, I needed to leave this place. He already hated me—and I already had a plan to leave.

"—before my house closed. Northern Entorre is an amazing place to live," Lady I-don't-remember-her-name said.

"I must excuse myself." I smiled as she nodded and began conversing with her son who joined her at this gala.

Amongst all the chatter, voices, and complete chaos of the room, Kace's laugh rung the loudest. His body fixed in the direction of the group he was speaking to, one hand tucked into his pocket.

His hand that held mine in his room behind the divider. His face now was hard, firm, and diplomatic as he spoke—I had seen this before from him, but it was at odds with what I was used to seeing. Gentle eyes that carefully analyzed me; hands that always moved wherever I was, ready to open a door or pull me away from danger.

Weaving between people, I managed to get to the double doors at the top of the staircase. No one was looking at me. This was my one chance to get out of this place.

But...

Kace now spoke to another group of people, only his back visible.

Was I really doing this?

I needed to. I had to. I nearly killed him, and he could never forgive me for hiding those secrets from him—and why would he? I could hardly live with myself knowing those secrets.

Seeing him on the nursing bed both broke my heart and relieved me. The man who stormed into a building full of murderers to save me, who took the blame for it... to save me. I constantly jeopardized his safety. I loved him.

I loved him.

And because of that, I opened the double doors and stepped out into the corridor. If he didn't hate me now, he would surely never forgive me for this.

Holding back the stinging sensation in my eyes, I started toward the familiar corridor: the kitchen corridor.

I couldn't let him completely hate me.

He laughed at the idea of marrying me once. In the moment, I laughed, too. I don't think I would hate if he was my husband. To look at a man and know that he would do anything to protect me, and to feel like my body burned for him to be nearer—it was a feeling I never had before. I thought I hated him. I thought he would ship me off into a fire pit. He protected me. He listened to me and held me as I cried. And when I thought he would truly hate me, he joked with me, saying I looked worse than him.

I thought he was cruel. It would've been easier if he was. He loved me, too. I could feel it in his gentle, reassuring touch, his soft gaze, his strengthening words.

A kitchen maid watched me, though remained silent as I opened a drawer and plucked out a cloth napkin. She nodded, and I only mouthed a quick thank you before I slipped out and back to the corridors.