Chapter 13
Perock
The memory of that awkward afternoon from a week ago remains etched vividly in my mind—her furious glare, the sharp sting of her slap across my face, and the accusation that cut me to the core.
I am not your plaything.
Since that moment, our relationship has spiraled downward, plummeting into a cold abyss. The last time I saw her before returning to the estate, she didn’t even spare me a glance, as if I were nothing more than a ghost in her presence. Even after my return yesterday, she made no effort to see me.
“Your Highness, someone requests an audience,” Orin’s voice interrupted my brooding thoughts as he knocked on the door of my study.
Could it be her?
I quickly composed myself, smoothing my expression, and strode toward the reception hall with a flicker of hope. But the person waiting for me was not who I expected.
“Perock.”
Sophia practically rushed toward me, offering a slight curtsy as she approached. “After I returned home, I’ve been reflecting deeply on my actions. I know I was wrong. I want to apologize to her.” Her eyes shimmered with unshed tears, her voice trembling with sincerity.
Her words sparked a peculiar thought in my mind.
I wanted to test whether my Princess truly felt nothing for me and Sophia’s connection, or if, as I suspected, her indifference was merely a carefully crafted mask.
If she showed even the slightest hint of emotion at seeing us together, it would mean she wasn’t entirely unaffected by me.
The idea stirred a subtle anticipation within me.
Perhaps it wasn’t the most honorable approach, but I needed to know if she still cared for me at all.
“Summon my Princess,” I ordered a maid standing outside the door.
While we waited, Sophia sat across from me in the hall. At first, she cautiously tested my attitude with small talk, but when I didn’t rebuff her, she relaxed, her demeanor shifting to one of ease.
“You should have seen the Duke’s face,” Sophia said with a laugh, her hand resting lightly on my arm. “He looked as though he’d swallowed a frog.”
I offered a faint smile in return, not pulling away from her familiar, intimate gesture. After all, hadn’t my Princess done the same with Orin, ignoring boundaries? Yet my eyes kept darting toward the doorway. Half an hour passed, and still, she hadn’t appeared.
Finally, I heard the sound of footsteps and a maid’s voice: “Your Highness, this way, please.” I immediately turned to Sophia with renewed enthusiasm, raising my voice just enough to ensure it carried.
“Like the pranks we used to pull on him back then?” I said, letting a broader smile play across my lips, making sure she would hear and see as she entered.
“Your Highness, you called for me?” she asked softly, executing a flawless curtsy as she stepped into the room.
She entered, clad in a simple pale green gown, her dark hair swept up elegantly. Her expression was as serene as a still lake. Beautiful. My wolf let out a pleased rumble deep within me.
Sophia immediately rose, opening her arms with exaggerated warmth as she positioned herself between us. “Dear Viossi, you’ve finally arrived. I’m so sorry for my rudeness that day. My memory can be pretty poor sometimes. Perock can prove that, right, Perock?”
She shot me a playful wink as she spoke.
“Viossi,” I said, fixing my gaze on her, “Sophia didn’t mean any harm. Please don’t make things difficult for her.”
I deliberately adopted a protective stance toward Sophia, searching for any crack in Viossi’s composed facade. But there was none. She maintained her gentle smile, flawless and impenetrable.
“It’s quite all right, Lady Sophia,” Viossi replied evenly.
“Oh, thank goodness,” Sophia exclaimed, dramatically pressing a hand to her chest. “I was worried you’d blame me.”
Then, as if struck by a sudden thought, she added, “The weather is lovely today. Why don’t we go riding? I’ve been missing my little chestnut mare.”
Her voice softened with a nostalgic warmth as she continued, “Sorry, I forgot that you might not be aware of this thing. The little chestnut mare is the one Perock gave me as a gift. Back then, we used to ride side by side through the fields.”
I knew exactly what Sophia was doing—trying to provoke my wife by flaunting our shared history. Standing still, I said, “Yes, Viossi. You should join us.”
She shook her head. “I’m sorry, Your Highness, but I’m feeling...not very well today.”
I noticed her fingers, clasped in front of her, tightening almost imperceptibly. Catching this small sign of vulnerability sent a thrill through me. So, she wasn’t entirely unaffected after all.
“Then wait for us at the viewing terrace,” I insisted.
Sophia chimed in with a feigned sigh of disappointment. “That’s such a shame. Perock is the best riding instructor I’ve ever known. He taught me when I was just fifteen.”
“Perhaps he could teach you as well,” she added with a sly smile.
Viossi’s fingers tightened further, though her expression remained composed. “I’m sure His Highness is an excellent teacher, but I’m afraid I lack the talent for it.”
“Oh, don’t say that,” Sophia replied with mock sympathy. “Riding is simple with the right guidance. I still remember how Perock taught me. He was so patient, so gentle. He’d stand beside my horse, holding my waist to make sure I didn’t fall.”
At last, I saw a fracture in Viossi’s calm demeanor. A faint tremor passed through her, though she fought to maintain her smile.
I should have interrupted Sophia, but a darker part of me—a cruel desire to see her hurt—made me nod in agreement instead. “I was truly worried you’d get hurt back then.”
Sophia’s eyes lit up. “Indeed, there was one time I nearly fell off, and you caught me, holding me so tightly.”
A flush crept across her cheeks as she spoke. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Viossi standing to the side, the tremor in her frame subsiding as she steadied herself. I struggled to ignore the howl of the wolf within me, fighting the urge to rush over and embrace her.
“I think I should head to the viewing terrace now,” she said quietly, her voice even but tinged with stiffness. “I wish you both an enjoyable ride.”
As she walked alone toward the distant terrace, a strange sensation twisted in my chest. But wasn’t this exactly what I wanted? To make her feel excluded, to unsettle her with my closeness to Sophia?
We rode across the open meadow, Sophia laughing beside me, occasionally leaning closer as if we were carefree youths again. Yet my gaze kept drifting to the terrace in the distance. There she stood, her dark hair glinting in the sunlight, watching us silently.
Even from afar, I could sense her isolation, her detachment.
I urged my horse forward, deliberately making the hoofbeats louder, as if the sound could drown out the restless growl of my wolf within me.
It urged me to turn back, to apologize, but I only gripped the reins tighter and turned to exchange lighthearted words with Sophia.
I knew she could see us.
I am her husband, the future king of this estate. Why should I be the one to yield first?
The following afternoon, I took Sophia and Viossi to tour the newly completed section of the royal garden. The gardeners had just finished a rose garden, where blooms of every shade flourished, their fragrance filling the air.
“These roses are stunning,” Sophia remarked, bending to inhale the scent of a deep crimson blossom. “But my favorite will always be the wildflowers you gave me when we were children.”
She straightened, slipping her arm through mine with familiar ease. “Do you remember? We were picnicking by the lake, and you suddenly ran off. When you came back, ages later, you had a huge bundle of wildflowers in your hands. You said they were for the most beautiful girl by the lake.”
I nodded, but my attention was on Viossi. She walked beside us, maintaining a perfect distance, her expression as calm as if this were just another mundane stroll.
I had thought that after yesterday’s coldness, she might show some sign of regret, some shift in her demeanor. Instead, she seemed to have perfected her indifference even further.
My body tensed involuntarily. If she didn’t care about me, then who did she care for? Orin, who protected her, who wiped away her tears?
My tacit permission seemed to embolden Sophia.
She began visiting more frequently, always finding excuses to call on me, and I didn’t reject her occasional displays of closeness—especially not in front of Viossi.
Our shared past was something she could never be part of, leaving her with no choice but to remain silent.
I had assumed that my leniency toward Sophia would send a message to her, a subtle invitation of sorts. And it did.
After that, Sophia began showing up at the palace with all kinds of excuses—sometimes to discuss trivial matters, other times to simply “check in.” I didn’t push back against her occasional flirtatious gestures, especially not when my wife, Viossi, was present.
And I didn’t reject her occasional displays of closeness—especially not in front of Viossi.
The history Sophia shared with me was something Viossi could never be a part of, no matter how much she might have wished to.
It was a chapter of my life that was closed to Sophia, and all she could do was remain quiet, her expression unreadable.
Did she not realize she was being sidelined?
How could she sit there so calmly, so composed, as if none of these affected her?
Was this her way of pushing back, of defying me with her indifference?
The thought gnawed at me, stirring a restless irritation deep in my chest.