The royal city of Port Cressida has a new King.
Casper Ashe.
After spending years chained to the floor of a dungeon, haunted by visions of a beautiful woman, Casper is finally free. As Port Cressida's new King, he has two priorities: restore peace t...
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The Royal Hunting Lodge Grounds
Sophie Reese
Treading carefully through the snow, I made my way towards the woods.
The snow had stopped and judging from the depth of snow on the ground, it must have been snowing non-stop for several days.
It was easy to assume that the estate was often cut off from the outside world during the winter from snow drifts and blocked roads.
It made me wonder why Casper chose to live somewhere so beautiful, but so isolated. Was it because of the enemies he had mentioned last night?
It sounded so serious. What kind of person had enemies that forced them into hiding? What kind of job did Casper do that made him a target?
Was he a mafia boss, or a drug lord, or arms dealer?
I had no idea - I just knew it was bad.
Whatever he was, I was determined to find out.
It was a dark moonless night, with precious little light to illuminate my way. I walked through the landscaped gardens, heading towards the mouth of the woods where the man had said the path to the gatehouse was.
I trod carefully, pausing from time to time, to check that I wasn't being followed. I hadn't seen Jacques or heard the front door of the house swing open, so I assumed all was good and that Jacques was still inside scolding the domestic staff.
I felt bad for the staff. I didn't mean to get them into trouble. But, just like them, I had been disgusted by the idea that an innocent woman was being coerced into a loveless marriage.
I couldn't let this slide. I had to try and do something.
As I turned back to head towards the woods, I stopped. There was a distant sound of a car engine followed by the distinct headlights of a car.
I ducked behind a snow-covered bush and watched a grey vintage car glide down the driveway up to the steps of the main house.
The door of the main house swung open and a team of uniformed butlers marched out onto the steps, ready to greet the whoever was in the car.
I watched with intrigue as the car stopped. The passenger door swung open and a tall dark haired gentleman wearing a black suit stepped out. I couldn't tell if he was handsome or ugly - it was too dark and he was too far away to tell.
He paused on the steps and then turned back towards the car as a young woman, wearing a thick white fur coat, stepped out of the car. She was much smaller than him and appeared to be heavily pregnant.
That had to be the groom and his pregnant ex-wife the staff were talking about. They must be here for the wedding.
From my hiding position, I observed them with a strange fascination as they hurried up the steps into the house.
