15. Princess Davina
Chapter 15
Princess Davina
“Life is really simple, but we insist
on making it complicated.”
— CONFUCIUS
I t’s been almost a week since I followed Cole into the tunnels, and it’s clear that he’s been avoiding me. It’s not that I’m complaining, but I still haven’t made any progress in figuring out my powers, and I feel completely out of place.
The door creaks open, and Cole steps inside, holding a small, neatly wrapped package. “For you.”
The confusion must be clear on my face as I take the package from him. “For me?”
“Don’t get too excited.”
“But what…is this supposed to be a late birthday present?”
“No, it’s just a gift.”
I remain still, trying to understand why he would give me a gift after days of barely acknowledging my existence.
“Are you planning to stare at it all day or are you actually going to open it?” he asks, his impatience unmistakable.
“Thanks,” I say, “but you don’t have to give me anything. Just keep it.”
“Are you trying to piss me off?”
“You don’t know the kinds of things I like.” I cross my arms defiantly. “What if I don’t like it?”
“You’re making this way more complicated than it needs to be. Look, you can either keep staring at it until you figure out how to be grateful, or just throw it away. Either way, I’m not taking it back.”
I raise a brow. “So now I have to choose between being ungrateful or just tossing it?”
“Fine,” he mutters, “if you’re going to be difficult, I’ll just open it for you.” With a sigh, he tears off the wrapping.
It’s a diary.
Not just any diary, but a pink one adorned with a gold, heart-shaped lock. I stare at it, disbelief washing over me. This wasn’t what I expected at all—especially not from him.
Cole shoves the diary into my hands, clearly exasperated.
I run my fingers over the delicate lock and watch as the gold catches the light. “Why would you?—”
“It’s just a diary, Davina. You don’t have to overthink it.”
I glance up at him, trying to find some explanation in his eyes. “But why?—”
“You’re almost out of pages in yours.”
Is he saying he’s been snooping? How else would he know?
If he had the audacity to read?—
“I noticed it the other day when you were writing in it.”
Oh .
“But why did you bother to get me a new one?” I ask, surprised not only by the gift but also by the thoughtfulness behind it.
“I figured if you’re going to write endless complaints or bad poetry about me, it might as well be in something nice.”
“Sounds like you’ve been projecting,” I say, tapping the diary against his cheek twice—not hard enough to hurt, but just enough to make my point. “I suppose it’s not the worst thing you could have given me. I’ll make sure to dedicate the first few pages to your astounding generosity.”
“I’m counting on it.”
“Princess, you look like shit,” Rafe says as I open the fridge.
I’m not even offended. Truthfully, I do look like shit. Sleepless nights leave dark circles under my eyes, and my hair is sticking up in every direction. I’m a walking disaster.
“Excuse me?” I pretend to be aghast.
“I’m not trying to insult you. It’s just the truth.”
“How charmingly blunt of you.”
“People these days are so scared to speak their minds.” He lets out a dramatic sigh. “I’m not.”
“And that’s exactly why people don’t like you.”
“Oh, fuck off.” He gives my hair an affectionate ruffle, making it even more of a mess than it was before.
I swat his hand away, unable to contain the grin that spreads across my face. Taking a sip of my water, I glance up just in time to see Cole coming out of his office. His eyes are wild, filled with an intensity that makes my heart race.
His gaze fixes on Rafe, and I can feel the atmosphere shift. “What did you just say?”
“You can fuck off too,” Rafe mutters dismissively, trying to brush past Cole as if he isn’t worth the trouble.
I gasp as Cole grabs him by the collar and slams him against the wall with a jarring impact. His face is a mask of fury, but there’s something else simmering beneath the surface—protectiveness?
My mind races with confusion.
Why would he care so much about what Rafe says to me?
I want to step in and say something, but I’m frozen in place.
“I don’t think you should talk to a princess that way,” Cole says, his voice low and dangerously calm. Rafe, however, remains unfazed. “You better treat her with some respect,” he adds, his grip on Rafe tightening.
Rafe leans in slightly, lowering his voice so I can barely catch his words. “Be reasonable. We both know you don’t want her to see you lose control.”
“You—”
“Let him go,” I finally manage to say.
There’s a charged silence before Cole lets out a sharp breath, his eyes narrowing. With a sudden jerk, he releases Rafe, and I let out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding, trying to make sense of what just happened.
Rafe brushes off his jacket with a casual shrug. “Thanks for the reminder, Cole,” he says, a hint of mockery in his tone. Turning to me, his expression shifts to one of amusement. “Forgive me, Princess,” he adds, bowing dramatically before striding toward the staircase.
“Why do you let him speak to you like that?” Cole asks, his voice carrying a serious edge that cuts through the tension.
“It’s unsettling that you care,” I reply, and a snort escapes. “Rafe’s just messing around. It’s not that big of a deal.”
He shakes his head, and then lets out a small breath of amusement. He isn’t amused at all, though, that much is clear by the way a muscle in his jaw ticks. “It is a big deal.”
“You don’t have to defend me. I can handle myself just fine.”
“Next time he talks to you like that, punch him in the face.”
I roll my eyes with a sigh. “Always so violent.”
“Careful with those eye rolls. If you overdo it, your eyes might get stuck up there, and I’d hate to miss out on your endearing expressions of disdain.”
“If my eyes get stuck, at least I won’t have to endure the sight of your face.”
“You’d be lost without my face to glare at.”
“Oh, of course. And how would I ever survive the day without your endlessly fascinating ability to turn every conversation into a test of patience?”
“If you want me to leave you alone, just say so.” I’m about to respond, but he gets words out first. “Not that I would.”
“Have I mentioned today just how much I can’t stand you?”
He gives me a small, wry grin. “No need—it’s pretty obvious.”