A Crown Divided By Loyalty

7

When Carolina entered the palace gates, she dried her eyes and deeply breathed. Since the conversation of last night, Carolina couldn't stop crying. And even though their decision was being made to break up, they decided to spend the night together, just as a last timer. Vincent left in the early morning and returned to the palace to prevent the weird looks of them entering the palace together. Carolina, however, stayed until the very last minute in the room to cry.

As she drove through the woods and eventually to the palace garage, she had to pull herself back together and look presentable to everyone. No one could see what had happened. Once she parked the car, she took a shaky breath. She caught her reflection in the car window; a reminder of the vulnerability she had let out over the past hours. Her eyes were puffy, and her cheeks held a faint flush from crying, but she knew she'd have to mask it all before stepping inside.

With practised ease, she smoothed her hair, dabbed at her eyes, and tried to summon the usual calm, collected look she wore in the palace. She grabbed her makeup bag and put on some mascara, concealer, and bb-cream to cover up the redness. To distract everyone from looking at her red eyes, she put on her glasses - fake glasses, blue light glasses. She forced her shoulders back, willing herself to feel more substantial than she did. No one could know about the night she and Vincent had shared, or the decision that had come from it.

When she walked through the hallways, familiar faces passed her by, smiling, nodding respectfully, and completely unaware of the emotions she carried within. She managed a faint smile in return, still her mind spinning with thoughts of Vincent. The ache of their parting was raw, fresh, and more painful than she could have imagined, yet she knew she had to bury it under her duties and obligations.

At first, she dropped off the Tupperware in a quiet kitchen, hoping she wouldn't face the kitchen staff to have a chit-chat. For once, no one was present. Perhaps it was because it was Sunday, and the staff had a day off. Some would go out; some would hang around in the palace. Carolina sniffed and walked to the private wing.

No one should be home; her parents' absence reminded her of their anniversary, which she feared she might never experience. And her brother and sister were living on their own.

But as she entered the private wing, the lights were on in the hallway. She closed the door behind her, took her shoes off and curiously walked to the living room. Her grandfather sat at the dining table, probably making a crossword puzzle. She bit her lip and let the bag down on the floor.

"Hello," she greeted, her voice cracking. She cleared her throat quickly.

Her grandfather looked up, peering over his reading glasses, a warm smile spreading. "Carolina, my dear," he greeted her gently, setting down his pen.

It didn't make sense to her. Why was he here? And more importantly, why did he act like a grandfather? The truth be told, her grandfather, the King, would often treat his family as if they were his employees. He was never taught to keep work, status, and private family separated. He learned it over the years, so it was rare to see her grandfather acting like her grandfather and not as King.

She managed a faint smile and moved toward him, her movements slower than usual, weighed down by the night's events. "How are you doing?" she replied, hoping the casual tone would mask the tremor in her voice. But her grandfather's perceptive gaze was already studying her face, his expression softening as he took in the faint redness around her eyes and the unusual tiredness in her posture.

"I'm fine. How are you?"

"I'm okay."

Her grandfather squinted his eyes, not being satisfied by her reaction. "Come, sit with me, Carolina." He motioned to the chair across from him.