3. Princess Davina
Chapter 3
Princess Davina
“We accept the love we think we deserve.”
— Stephen Chbosky
A thousand and one thoughts race through my mind, starting with how the hell I’m going to get out of this situation and ending with every worst-case scenario I can possibly imagine.
If I’m not going to die today, I should be grateful. But I can’t shake off this unsettling feeling.
Is it worth staying alive if it means being locked up again?
Frustration tightens its grip around my chest, making it impossible to feel even a hint of relief.
Will I ever see my father again? And if I do, will I even want to? The thought twists inside me, a painful reminder of his choices.
I can still hear his voice from years ago—harsh words spoken in hushed tones that echoed through the halls. “I don’t want her. She’s a reminder of what I’ve lost. She’s nothing to me,” he’d said to his advisers, dismissing my existence like an unwanted shadow.
That day, I hid behind the door, desperate for any sign of affection or acknowledgment, clinging to the hope that perhaps he would come to love me. Instead, I heard the truth—my mother, lost to Lorelda’s grasp, left behind a hollow space that I could never fill.
I’m just a living reminder of her absence.
Who would have thought that I could feel even lonelier than I have during those long, empty years? Even with people constantly around me, I felt lonely. Now, I’m both alone and lonely.
It’s like I’m homesick for arms that have never held me.
I glance around the room, restlessness gnawing at me.
I can’t stand sitting on this bed any longer, so l push myself off the bed and head toward the door. As I open it, a shiver of unease drifts through me, making my skin prickle. I can’t shake the feeling that if I step outside, something will attack me.
I shake my head, trying to dispel the thought. “Get a grip,” I mutter to myself, remembering Cole’s words that no one’s here.
But I’m still not entirely convinced that these palace walls can protect me from my curse. More than likely, he told my father a convincing lie just to have me here for a few hours, to do whatever he wants before I die anyway. I wouldn’t put it past him.
The walls feel like they’re closing in, leaving me gasping for air.
I can’t stay here.
Cole may have spun a convincing tale to my father, but I refuse to let anyone control my life—or my death.
I rush down the stairs, my mind racing with thoughts of escape. If this is how my life is going to be—shut in again, suffocated by these walls—it hardly seems worth living. I can’t bear it any longer.
I’ve accepted a long time ago that I’m doomed.
As I reach the glass door that leads to the world outside, the air feels thick with anticipation. I push the door open with a trembling hand and close my eyes, inhaling deeply, drawing in the scent of freedom mixed with the garden’s fragrance.
Just as I’m about to step outside and confront whatever destiny awaits me, a voice slices through the stillness, startling me so much that I grip the doorframe to steady myself.
“Care to explain what you’re intending to do?”
I turn around, gasping in bewilderment. That face before me is a portrait of mischief, with sharp cheekbones and unsettling white eyes that send a shiver down my spine.
His short silver hair accentuates his long and pointed ears, and his skin is pale as porcelain or moonlight, almost shimmering. Though he looks annoyed, his expression morphs into a wicked smile as he notices my astonishment. His attire matches his whimsical demeanor, consisting of an intricate tunic made of shimmering green silk. And then I notice his hands, long and slender, more like claws than human fingers.
“What are you?” I ask, my voice slightly trembling.
“I’m Rafe. Do you mind stepping back inside, Princess?” His tone is casual, but the underlying threat is unmistakable.
My pulse quickens, but I refuse to show fear. “Rafe who?”
“Rafe.” He raises an eyebrow. “Rafe Kendrick.”
It sounds like I should know who he is, but I don’t.
“Never heard of you, Rafe Kendrick.” The comment slips out of my mouth before I can stop it. Maybe he’s dangerous , I scold myself. “It’s a pleasure,” I add quickly.
“Princess Davina Sinclair is mocking me.” He lets out a disbelieving laugh. “The pleasure is all mine.”
I’m still staring, baffled, when he suddenly switches from amused to angry in a matter of seconds. “Come back inside.”
“Why? Are you going to kill me? If so, save yourself the trouble.” I turn away. “I’m planning on doing it myself.”
“Believe me,” he mutters, “I couldn’t care less if you’re alive or dead, but if you walk through that door, I am the one who gets killed.”
“What do you mean?” I ask, glancing around the courtyard. “And what are you?”
“I’m a pixie. I know, fascinating. Listen, I know we don’t know each other, but I consider you to be someone who doesn’t want to be responsible for someone’s death, and if you walk through that door, Cole is going to murder me, so bring your ass back in here.”
I slowly turn to face him again. “Sounds like a really good friendship.” I allow a soft smile to play across my lips. “I bet you’re his favorite.”
“Trust me, Princess,” he drawls, “I’m everyone’s favorite. Can’t you tell?”
I cock my head, offering him a wry smile. “Sure, and I certainly don’t wish to be responsible for anyone’s death, least of all yours,” I lie and spin on my heel, moving swiftly enough that he can’t stop me.
“Davina!”
I flinch in surprise at the sight of blue eyes, my own widening in disbelief. Nora is standing right in front of me, her grin so wide it’s practically infectious. Behind her looms Cole, his towering frame casting a shadow over her. His gaze is murderous, suggesting he’s changed his mind and decided to kill me after all.
Nora’s arms wrap around me in a tight hug, and her familiar scent instantly soothes my frazzled nerves.
Relief and happiness hit me so strongly that I fight back tears.
I can hardly believe he actually kept his word after I mentioned wanting to see her.
Cole steps inside, ignoring me completely, while Nora pulls back slightly, her hands gripping my upper arms as she examines me from head to toe.
“Happy birthday!” she exclaims, her voice brimming with excitement. “You look stunning.” She leans in. “Davina,” she whispers, “when were you planning to tell me you’re living with a ridiculously handsome prince from now on?”