14. Prince Cole
Chapter 14
Prince Cole
“Life is not what you expect: It is made up of the most unexpected twists and turns.”
— Ilaiyaraaja
I move through the corridors until I reach the tunnels that lead to the dungeon. I’m not entirely sure why I’m heading this way—perhaps it’s the suffocating weight of the palace walls pressing down on me again.
The tunnels are dark and narrow, the chill from the stone seeping through the walls and settling in my bones.
A noise breaks the silence, making me stop mid-step.
I cock my head, straining to catch it again.
It has to be her.
I can almost sense her presence, elusive yet unmistakable.
Her footsteps falter, and besides the ragged sound of her breathing, silence presses in around me.
“Quite brave of you to sneak in here at this hour,” I call out, my voice echoing off the walls.
No response.
The sound of her exhales disappears, like she’s trying to keep herself a secret.
“Trying to hide from me, are we?” I taunt, a hint of amusement threading through my words.
As if she can hide from me.
“If you don’t come out, I’ll take it as a sign that you wish for me to chase you.”
No response.
I give her a few more seconds, then turn on my heel and head back toward the spot where she must have entered. Moving cautiously through the tunnel, I realize she must have disappeared into the labyrinth of passageways that branch off from here.
I pause, my senses heightened, trying to pinpoint her exact location. “You’ve got me curious now,” I drawl. “What are you doing here?”
Still, there is no response.
“This is becoming tiresome,” I mutter to myself. “If you’re going to play this game, at least have the decency to make it interesting.”
“Interesting?” Her voice suddenly cuts through the darkness. “Is that what you call imprisoning people? Or what exactly is this for?”
“Prisoners?” I echo, more intrigued than offended. “It’s just the two of us, Princess.”
Her silence is thick and heavy, filled with unspoken questions and simmering anger. I can almost picture her, her eyes darting around, trying to find a way out.
“Don’t play games with me.”
“But you’re the one playing games,” I counter and smirk, though she can’t see it. “You’ve been following me through these tunnels, hiding in the shadows.”
The silence stretches out again, thick and palpable.
I hear the faintest shuffle behind me, confirming that she is still somewhere in these corridors.
“If I were torturing people, wouldn’t you hear their screams rather than just the echoes of your own breath?”
“So you prefer taking a stroll through tunnels at night?” Her voice drips with sarcasm. “Is that it? Is that your idea of entertainment?”
I tilt my head, considering her words. “Well, I suppose you could call it that. So, will you come out and talk, or will I have to hunt you down in these dark?—”
Before I can finish, a sudden shift in the shadows catches my eye, her silhouette moving swiftly and silently. She seems almost ethereal, and in an instant, she is gone, leaving me questioning if she was ever truly there.
“Still trying to avoid me?” I call out. “Or are you just terrible at hide-and-seek?”
I lean against the cool stone wall, allowing the stillness to stretch between us. I hear her breathing, quick and shallow.
She’s close, perhaps only a few feet away.
Another rustle confirms her proximity, and I push off the wall and move forward. “Very well.”
“Wait!”
A chuckle slips out, deliberately nonchalant. “Do I make you that nervous?”
For a moment, I’m met with silence again. Then, a soft sigh escapes her, as if she’s still weighing her options.
Finally, a hesitant step emerges from the shadows.
I take my time soaking her in, my gaze traveling from the tips of her boots, over her black trousers and dark cloak, and then up to her hair that’s pulled into a ponytail.
“No dress?” I ask, a slow grin creeping onto my face. “You look like you’re up to absolutely no good.”
“One could say the same about you.”
“Who ever said I was good?”
I study her expression, watching for any flicker of emotion that might give away her thoughts. Her eyes are steady, defiant, but there’s a hint of curiosity in them, too.
“What exactly are you up to here?” she demands.
“I could ask you the same question,” I reply, taking a step closer. “What are you hoping to find here? Me torturing innocent maidens?”
“You expect me to believe you’re here to…what? Enjoy the darkness?”
“Is it so hard to believe I might simply be here for a change of scenery?” I ask, feigning innocence.
She looks at me skeptically. “You’re hiding something.”
I shrug. “Believe what you want. But if you truly thought I was a threat, you wouldn’t be standing here with me.”
“Maybe I’m just trying to figure out what kind of threat you are.”
“And have you reached any conclusions?”
She tilts her head slightly, her eyes narrowing as she studies me with renewed scrutiny. “I’m still working on it.”
“I guess I should be flattered that you’re giving me so much attention. By all means, take your time working on it. I wouldn’t want to rush you.”
I can almost see the gears turning in her mind, trying to piece together the puzzle of my intentions.
“How thoughtful of you. But considering your reputation, I doubt you’re here just for the view.”
I step closer, closing the gap between us.
Her posture stiffens, and she presses herself against the cold stone wall behind her. “You’re getting awfully close.”
“Well,” I say, letting my gaze linger on her, “it’s hard to appreciate the view from a distance.” I lean in just a bit more and place my hand on the wall beside her. “Is that making you uncomfortable? I’d hate to think I’m giving you the wrong impression.”
Her eyes flicker with something—fear or defiance, I can’t quite tell. “I’m not sure what you’re trying to prove here. If you want to hurt me?—”
“Hurt you?” I echo, perplexed. “I thought we were simply having a conversation.”
Her eyes flicker to the side, almost imperceptibly, as she struggles to maintain her composure, shifting against the wall.
She’s scared of me.
“A conversation?” She scoffs. “Somehow, I don’t think that’s what you had in mind when you decided to close the distance between us.”
“You’re not exactly making it easy for me to have a casual conversation,” I respond and back up to give her some space. “It’s hard to have a casual chat when you’re scrutinizing every move I make.”
I turn away, and her voice follows me. “I’ll be keeping an eye on you.”
“Wouldn’t have it any other way,” I mutter to myself as I walk away, struggling to understand why I suddenly feel this way, and refusing to acknowledge the way my chest twists when she doesn’t choose to follow.