❝ In a world tainted by decadent rulers, the Princess must step back to her kingdom for a revamp of the rules, claiming her rightful place on the throne ❞
Rules are made to be broken was the only rule Lysandra ever abided by. When that very principl...
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The dinner seemed like the most difficult job Lysandra was supposed to do which was very unlike her. Her whole life, she had been evading people and emotions so, paying less attention to a few royals was not a tiring task once she got used to it. But, that day, the voice in her head made self-control a nearly impossible task. She was terrified and her bottled up emotions did not help in keeping herself calm either. It ate her up from within, the nagging and the suspicion. She would hate to admit but, she had trusted Seraphine and the others in her circle albeit a little to fast.
Would they truly betray her once they have what they want? But, they kept Laurent safe, did they not? Or, was it a bait to lure her trust in?
Lysandra felt foolish, fearing about something which probably would never happen so, she clenched her jaw and pushed the dining room doors open, walking in with an air of nonchalance. The Dimitrovs and her parents despised each other and yet, having dinner at the same table was something they always did. Must be a royal custom, Lysandra thought bitterly, I would not know.
Her mother was the first one to notice her and she smiled slightly. "Ah, Lysandra! You okay, my sweet? Sera tells me you are unwell."
"Yes, mother. Just a headache." Her voice was monotonous like always, still not able to digest the fact that her own parents gave her away. She was acting like a petulant child but after all that, she knew she was just as evil as them.
"You do look tired, princess. The training, I presume?" Timotheus asked and Lysandra nodded, biting her lip. "Well, this is my son, your cousin." He pointed towards a muscular, olive-toned man seated beside him. His eyes were a pale brown, the kind that scared children and the dubious smirk plastered on his face infuriated Lysandra. The man gave her a curt nod before going back to eating his food.
"Such a prick," Seraphine mumbled under her breath and Lysandra's ears perked up at that. She had never seen her cousin verbally insult a person so, this meant that Timotheus son was practically an asshole. Like father like son, Lysandra judged despite knowing that it was not a right thing to do. For all she knew, the man could be good but, something about him was off. She felt as though he was someone she knew. However, she pushed the sensation aside assuming it to be her memories tickling their way in if that were possible.
She pushed her salad around and tucked her chin in her palm while resting her arm on the table, beside her plate. She did not want to eat and her stomach was already churning. She felt sick and strangely, she could not keep up her composure or stop fidgeting.
"Are you okay, Lee?" Seraphine nudged her shoulder, her eyebrows drawn together in concern.
Such perfect act of concern, eh. Wonder what will happen to you once she stabs you in the back.
The voice in her head resurfaced and she froze, nodding her head haphazardly. Seraphine was not convinced as she informed Lysandra that they would have a quick chat soon enough. Lysandra paled as the taunts continued, making her want to run far away and curl up into a ball to cry. She'd had enough of trusting people and plotting against royals.
