I had been at the detached palace where my father left me to rot. I was panting from my run towards his palace which was incredibly far away from where I was staying. I had been wanting a gasp of air ever since I had arrived, but the atmosphere in my father’s office was incredibly stifling. 

My father was angry. No. He was furious. His jaw clenched and his brows furrowed as his red eyes looked down at me, burning with rage. It was the second time I had seen my father this angry. The first time was when my engagement with the Second Prince of Laedon fell through. But it was never to this extent. These days, I feel that my father’s mood towards me was getting all too aggressive. He would call me once everyday just to remind me of my place despite me having clear Imperial Blood running through my veins. His Blood. Even illegitimate children are treated better than I am. 

“You are a disgrace to the Ostulia Empire,” he said.

I have lost count of how many times he said those words to me. Over and over again, without fail. It was as if he had nothing more to tell me. My father never failed to showcase his incredible feelings of dislike towards me. The maids in his palace whisper about our relationship. Most of them were whispers about me, and they weren’t positive. They all sided with my father because they regarded my existence as a bane. And because of that, I would often receive disrespect except for when there are guests residing in the palace.

“Do not say anything inappropriate to the Prince.” His stare tore through me like a million daggers passing through. It was sharp and unwavering. Sharp and full of hatred I merely nodded as a response because I know he despises hearing my voice. “If the prince hears about your situation, I will make sure to cut your tongue and cripple you.” 

I flinched. He was too harsh. But I’m already used to receiving threats like these and oftentimes it was from him, my own father. “Are you mute? Why won’t you answer me?” He slammed his clenched fist on his desk as he stood up. I flinch at the sound of his fist’s impact on his desk. 

“I understand, fa-...your majesty.” I almost made a mistake. 

My father massages his temples and draws closer to me. Then he appeared. Ranlrein, my father’s lover. He was younger and healthier than mother. But that’s all there was to him. His looks were plain and average despite my father’s praise about his beauty being unmatched. But not even the maids of the palace would give him a second look if not for his position as the King’s beloved.

Ranlrein had untied brown hair that reached his shoulders. Freckles scattered his pale and sunken cheeks as his big brown eyes caught my momentary gaze. He leered at me and flashed me a smile. The same smile he showed me when he looked up at me in my attic window. He felt kind of different. A slimy kind of different. And I didn’t like to be around him at all. “Why are you scolding the Princess, my love?” 

His voice bounced off my father’s office walls. And it caught his attention. My father turned around and walked towards his lover. He planted a kiss on Ranlrein’s forehead and rested his hand on Ranlrein’s small waist, caressing it ever so slowly. For a moment there, I thought I saw him flinch from my father’s touch. But maybe it was just me.

My father gazed down at his lover, honey dripping from his eyes and heaved out a sigh. “What did the princess do for you to be this angry, your majesty?” Ranlrein asked once again, this time, throwing me a glance whilst being cradled in my father’s arms. I shuddered under his gaze. There was something about him that never sat right with me. 

“Ran…” my father sighed. “I told you to call me by my name when we are alone.” Ranlrein laughed, his eyes turned half-moon. “But we aren’t alone,” he said. 

It seemed like my father forgot my very presence in the room as he started acting very intimate to his lover. I looked away. I did not want to be exposed to their intimacy knowing that he’s married to my mother. “Jehanel, the princess is still here.” With his reminder, my father shot me a sharp glare, but that was more than enough for me to know that I was no longer needed. 

*

The walk to my temporary palace was a long one as I wallowed in my thoughts that were in disarray. Ranlrein’s gaze still didn’t sit right with me. His big brown eyes remained in my brain. They weren’t the kind of beautiful brown eyes you see in most of the people here in Ostulia, no. They were darker, almost muddy. A deep kind of muddy. 

Nobody in the palace knew about Ranlrein’s past. His past is as mysterious as he presents himself to be. But there have been rumours about him. Rumours that are not so pleasant. It travels amongst the servants of the palace in forms of hushed whispers and silent gazes. It comes out of someone’s mouth and reaches another’s ears, and it repeats. Like a water wheel that turns with falling water, only ever stopping once the water dries up. 

I’ve heard some whispers of his rumours, very outlandish rumours. They suspect him of being another kingdom’s spy who was tasked to create chaos within the Empire. But he doesn’t seem that way to me. Even an untrained eye would notice that Ranlrein didn’t have the qualities of being a trained spy. He was scraggy, almost to the point of looking sickly. 

Others seem to heavily believe that he was the King’s son from another woman who he cherishes the most after Cedrin. A very disturbing rumour. Father would need to be a beast to be able to do such unspeakable things to his biological son. If Ranlrein truly was my father’s hidden son from an affair, which I likely think to be false, then I believe he deserves the highest sentence of death. 

As I drew closer to the open garden in front of my temporary palace, I caught a glimpse of shiny black hair. He was standing in front of the garden’s fountain, a single rose in hand. Idly, he twirled it around. He did not acknowledge me as I walked closer, nor did he turn around to look. Maybe because he was enamoured by the sight of a purple rose that he couldn’t feel my presence. Or maybe I didn’t have any presence at all. 

I moved forward, scuffing my heels on the cement, and he turned around with a surprised expression. I gaped at his beauty, black shiny hair, slightly tanned skin, and deep-blue eyes. It was stinging, this sudden bubble of interest that stuck me. I’ve seen him during the envoy and I’ve danced with him, but I can never deny his attractiveness. 

He’s the man I am to marry? Do I even deserve such a man?

Such thoughts ran through my brain as I stared at him. Maybe a little too much because the Prince had started to look away in embarrassment. He awkwardly raised his hand and gave me the single purple rose he was admiring before I got here. 

A small chuckle escaped his mouth. “I’m sorry I didn’t notice you quite sooner, your highness.” 

His eyes, unlike anybody here in this palace, displayed genuine sincerity. An emotion I don’t often receive from others. But this man, who is a very respected prince, a very different kind of ruler compared to my father, treated me with the respect that I do not have in my own Empire. 

“What are you doing here, Prince Dion?” I asked quite genuinely. But his eyes widened because of my question. Did I perhaps come off too strong? 

He flashed me a shy smile, his dimples showing. “I apologise for coming without notice, Prince Cecilia. But I was just so excited that I couldn’t wait to meet you.” My heart throbbed in my chest as he uttered those words of flattery. Surely enough he didn’t mean what he just said. Perhaps all of this was just for show? 

“You could’ve just waited inside the palace instead of outside,” I said. “The heat today is especially strong, isn’t it uncomfortable?” 

He shook his head. “Not at all,” he said with a smile. “In fact, I quite like the temperature in Ostulia. It is much more tame than summers we have in Eveothus.” 

I jerked my head up as I felt something solid touch my ear. The prince had placed the purple rose he once had on my hair. He gazed down at me adoringly. “Is it really as hot as they say it is in Eveothus?” 

“Indeed,” he responded. “Which is why I am afraid you might not get used to the heat when we marry…” The prince stopped speaking and looked away, ears flaring red as I realised what he just said. 

A moment of silence encompassed both of us as we strolled around the garden. Beautiful green leaves swayed and fell with the slight caress of wind. For a while, we basked in each other's company. And a question came to my mind. 

Was proposing to me a decision he made on his own? 

A question that I hadn’t asked myself until now. I glanced up at the prince’s smiling face, he looked quite satisfied with just being here and me not saying anything. But the questions swirled around my mind, and a while felt like it had been a long time. “Um, Prince Dion?” 

My voice came out shaky and unconfident. I wondered if he noticed my nervousness. “Yes, Princess?” 

“Why did you decide to propose to me?” 

The prince was taken aback by my sudden question. “I’m sorry,” I said.

“No!” He turned towards me and shook his head, raising both his hands. “What is there to be sorry about, Princess Cecilia?” 

“Oh it’s nothing, I was worried it might’ve been a disrespectful question.” 

“Nothing about that was disrespectful. In fact, you deserve to know the reason why.” A tender smile and a tender gaze. Both of which I didn’t expect to be receiving. It was refreshing and uncomfortable at the same time. Being at the receiving end of such tenderness made me feel strange. 

I waited for him to answer me, eyes wide and focused on his face. “It’s a very long story, would you mind if we talk over tea?” I was taken aback. “That is if you permit me to join you, your majesty.” 

“I suppose it’s teatime for me anyway,” I said hesitantly. “Then shall we make our way to my palace?” 

Prince Dion flashed me a smile and lowered his head. “Thank you for your invitation, Princess Cecilia. Allow me to escort you as a form of gratitude.” 

*

Upon spending time conversing with the prince in the garden, there was one thing I could make out of his personality. Prince Dion was a tender person. He’s polite to everyone he comes across and regards everybody with respect despite the status difference. He was different from all of the men I’ve interacted with in my life. 

He was different from my cold father. Prince Dion was certainly not cold. At least from what I have seen and experienced. He was different from my mean younger brother. Prince Dion was never mean. Not to any human or any woodland creature. Or any living being for that matter. At least, that is what I believe him to be. 

And I hope I’m not wrong. 

We talked over tea. Famous Ostulian delicacies laid out in front of us, all steaming hot and straight from the jamb stove. Nobles from different kingdoms would pay to try even the smallest bite of these desserts. Too luxurious for even a princess like me. But Prince Dion’s attention was elsewhere. It certainly wasn’t toward the food but towards me instead. 

There he goes again with such a gaze I can never get used to. 

“Are you very hungry, Princess Cecilia?” 

I almost immediately shook my head. But it was true I wasn’t hungry. The food in front of me would not satiate my growing nervousness. “Then, I suppose it would be right to speak about what we were talking about earlier.” 

“I’ll listen to what you have to say, Prince Dion.” 

And so he spoke; his voice was warm like the sun. “Proposing to you wasn’t my decision to make.” My heart fell. “It was an agreement between our fathers.” Of course it would be. My father would always make a decision concerning me without even coming to ask for my opinion. He would never. And if he did, it would be out of character and he wouldn’t listen anyway. 

My father’s eyes and ears are closed only for me. 

“Would it be rude to ask if you had a lover prior to our engagement?” I managed to ask. And I expected him to say yes; to acknowledge that he indeed had a lover before he was pushed into this loveless marriage. But contrary to my expectations, the prince shook his head. 

Did that make sense? A prince of standard such as him not having any lovers in his home kingdom? It almost sounded impossible. And yet he was evidence himself. 

“Love is a trivial thing that can cloud one’s judgement,” he said. And I resonated with what he said. “That is indeed true. I agree.” My thoughts wander to my foolish mother, who still, to this day, hopes and prays that her love be reciprocated. She’s still staring at the same window, the window that looks out to my father’s palace. 

“Although I do not believe someone as kind as you wouldn’t have someone waiting for you back at your kingdom.”

The prince chuckled. “Can I ask you the same question, princess?”  He looked so amused. And somehow, it irritated me slightly. “Did you have a lover before our engagement?” 

I shook my head. “You forget Prince Dion, and I’m pretty sure you already know this about me,” he leaned in and rested his chin on his palm. A lopsided grin played on his face as he stared at me with glistening eyes. I gulped. “I have had multiple engagements with men called off for various reasons. There is no person beside me who I can consider a love interest.” 

I jerked my head up and noticed the prince’s bright smile. This time, unlike at the banquet, his smile reached his eyes. And it was beautiful. 

“What about me?” He confidently pointed at himself.

“E-excuse me?” 

“You can consider me a love interest.” 

I choked on air.

What was this man saying? Although I do think he is attractive and kind, and we are engaged to each other, we absolutely have nothing in common. For now, at least. 

“You look like you are against the idea, princess.”

“You still haven’t answered my initial question, Prince Dion.” 

He looked away, ears turning red. Probably because I called him out so suddenly. After all, why would he just make someone feel flustered like that? I couldn’t help but evade his question. Maybe this is the same for him? Well, at least I figured out that the Prince doesn’t actually hold any feelings for me apart from respect. “I…” 

“You do not have to answer if you find it hard, your majesty.” I took a sip of the tea. It was sweet, but somehow I’m feeling bitter. “I apologise. I know I said I would tell you, but—” 

“No,” I cut him off. “We each have our own circumstances that we cannot easily tell other people. I believe you to have the same.” 

“...” 

Once again, silence prevailed over us. The once pleasant atmosphere quickly turned sour. And at this moment on, I knew that my engagement with Eveothus Kingdom’s Prince was broken like all others.