This book is under editing, please bear with the mistakes.
Other than that, enjoy reading.
Vote, comment, and recommend. Every little bit of support is appreciated.Yours Truly,
The author
(Edited)"An unsung tale of two forsaken souls
Secluded by love, isolated by mirth
No hope perceived in either soul
Although fate hath other plans declared...''"Ophelia...''
''Yes?''
''Promise that you'll never abandon me, ever-''
''I promise...''
Those few agonizing words reverberated in his mind filled with anguish. It was like a broken record that ceaselessly repeated the same infuriating note again and again.
Seven years had passed since that grievous incident befell on the Prince of Jevanna, but time seemed to stop for him just like the breeze that had hushed around him. Isolation engulfed his body and strangled him with despair as he knelt beside his deceased wife's grave.
Tears threatened to cascade down his eyes, but Ah! His pride wouldn't let him weep away this painful twinge.
''You lied to me sweet Ophelia...You lied when you said that you'd stay with me forever...'' He whispered monotonously. These were the very same words he repeated every Friday when he visited her sepulcher. Never forgetting to place a bouquet of white roses on her grave.
Her Favorite Flowers.
Prince Matthew, who was once known for his charisma, his impressive smile, and his witty quips, was buried long ago along with his wife. The person who stood in front of her grave now was no less than a statue fashioned out of his callous fate's spite.
If only he could go back in time - if only she was not persistent. She still would have been alive and beside him. Resting against his shoulder and humming a well-known tune, he would have breathed out a sigh as the sensation of being soothed tingled within him. Of course those suppositions were just to provide solace to his tumultuous mind.
''Oh dear Ophelia, if only... if I knew who it was...'' He gritted his teeth in ill humor.
Rage was the only emotion he was acquainted with in these seven agonizing years. Aside from that was guilt and dolefulness which he felt occasionally as he reminisced about his dead wife.
Her beautiful face,
her dazzling green eyes,
her cheerful laugh,
and her soft voice...
All of it was nothing but a recollection that pierced his heart like a jagged dagger as it plunged in again and again with a steady beat. He could have written leaves upon leaves on how painful it was to be devoid of his beloved wife, but all those words would not have been enough to explain his broken heart.
If only she had not departed the way she did.
His ache was almost at its brink and his sorrow was about to slip down his cheeks in the form of tears. However, the heavens began pouring before his tears did, telling him that it understood his discomfort even if he assumed that nobody did.
Time was supposed to heal his wounds, but instead it added salt to them. Each and every second reminded him that his mate was no longer with him anymore. His train of miserable thoughts came to a halt as he heard a familiar, tender yet masculine, voice calling out to him.
''Sire, I believe it's time to leave. You might catch a cold.'' He stated, his eyes cast down in respect.
''I don't want to-'' The prince replied impassively. He was shivering with cold and his eyes were bloodshot as they clashed with the colour of his dull sapphire irises. He could not care less; he just wanted to spend some time alone with his wife. Dead wife.
''...Your wife wouldn't be pleased if I let you stay in the rain.'' Mumbled the most loyal servant of the prince. It had been more than ten years since he served the royal family and was well aware of the grief the prince was suffering from. Joseph was more like a friend and an adviser than a servant to the prince. An exasperated sigh escaped through the cold lips of the Prince of Jevanna before he nodded and followed Joseph, disdainfully tearing away his gaze from his wife's grave.
He knew she was sleeping there peacefully..... Without him.
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Yours Truly
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