Chapter 13 #2
I felt that frustration building today, sharper and more insistent than before.
Sophia arrived at the palace once again, this time carrying a small basket of homemade cookies and pastries, her smile bright and deliberate as she presented them to me.
She made a point to mention how she’d spent hours baking them, her tone dripping with a familiarity that felt almost performative.
I accepted the gesture with a polite nod, but inside, my nerves were fraying.
I kept glancing at Viossi, waiting for some sign—any sign—that this was getting to her.
But her face remained a mask of serenity, her hands folded neatly in her lap.
And then, finally, she reacted. Her voice was soft but firm, cutting through the tension like a blade. “I’m sorry, Your Highness, I’m feeling a bit unwell. If you’ll excuse me for a moment.”
She rose from her seat with a grace that betrayed no emotion, offered a slight curtsy, and left the room without so much as a backward glance.
As her figure disappeared through the doorway, I felt myself slump, exhaustion washing over me.
Pretending to be close with Sophia for so long had drained me.
Even as she left with an excuse, she hadn’t spared me a single glance.
Suddenly, I felt like a fool, like a performing monkey in a zoo, making all sorts of noise and still failing to earn even a flicker of her attention.
“Perock,” Sophia said abruptly, grasping my hand, her voice low and earnest. “These past few days with you have brought back so many memories.”
I frowned slightly, attempting to pull my hand away. “Sophia…”
“No, please, let me finish,” she interrupted urgently, holding on tighter. “I know I hurt you before, but that was the greatest mistake of my life. Not a day goes by that I don’t regret my choice.”
Tears welled in her eyes, her voice quivering. “You don’t know how much I wish I could go back and choose differently. My husband… he’s a coward. He lets his mother belittle and humiliate me.”
Tears streamed down her face as she gazed at me with raw emotion. “Perock, I’ve realized I never stopped loving you. You’re the one I’ve been searching for all along.”
A shameful part of me wished I could feel something for her, if only to stop being so consumed by Viossi. I couldn’t help but question myself. What was I doing? Using one woman to provoke another? How childish, how utterly beneath me.
It was time to end this farce.
“Sophia,” I said softly but firmly, pulling my hand free. “Listen, we both have our own lives now.”
“No, I don’t believe you feel nothing for me,” she insisted. “I can see it. You don’t truly care for her. The one you’ve always cared about is me, isn’t it?”
I opened my mouth to deny it, but before I could speak, Sophia leaned forward. Before I could react, her lips pressed against mine.
The kiss froze me in place. The once-familiar taste, the warmth I had once craved, stirred nothing within me. Only one thought echoed in my mind—this is wrong.
I was about to push her away when a faint sound caught my attention. Turning my head, I saw my Princess standing at the entrance to the pavilion, her expression frozen in shock.
“I’m sorry, I’ll leave at once,” she said quickly, regaining her composure and stepping back.
“Wait,” I called out, shoving Sophia aside and standing, but she had already turned and was hurrying away, her steps nearly a run.
“Perock!” Sophia exclaimed, irritation lacing her tone as she tried to grab my hand. “Let her go. This way, we can talk properly.”
“Enough, Sophia!” I said coldly, shaking off her grip. “I need to explain this to her.”
“Explain what?” she scoffed. “Are you going to tell me you truly care for her? Perock, don’t deceive yourself. Look at how you’ve treated her these past few days! You’ve been trying to make her upset, to make her jealous. Doesn’t that prove you still can’t let go of me?”
Sophia’s words hit me like a bucket of ice water, chilling me to the core.
She was right—and I couldn’t deny it. Over the past few days, my actions had been nothing short of childish and absurd.
I had deliberately made sure the princess saw me with Sophia, hoping to spark jealousy in her, acting like some immature teenager desperate for attention.
This behavior was beneath me, unworthy of who I am, and worst of all, it hurt someone I should have respected and cherished from the start.
“Sophia, you’re wrong about one thing,” I said, looking directly into her eyes, my voice steady and resolute.
“These past few days were indeed my mistake, but not because I still have feelings for you. It’s because I was too proud to admit what I truly feel.
It’s time for me to let go of the past and face the reality honestly. ”
Sophia’s expression froze, her eyes glistening with unshed tears that seemed to hang suspended in that moment, caught between pain and realization.
“I’m sorry for being so blunt,” I continued, my tone softening but still firm, “but, Sophia, whatever was between us is over. I have my responsibilities now, and I have someone… someone I love.”
I didn’t wait for her response. Turning on my heel, I hurried out, my heart pounding with a mix of urgency and regret.
Each step I took intensified the turmoil inside me.
I needed to find her. I needed to explain myself, to apologize for my foolish behavior over the past few days, and most importantly, to tell her the truth about how I feel.
As I rounded the corner, I saw her.
I stopped in my tracks, frozen for a moment as I took in the scene.
She was kneeling beside Orin, who sat on the ground, carefully bandaging his arm. Her movements were gentle yet precise, a quiet tenderness in the way she tended to him.
The look in Orin’s eyes were one I knew all too well—a mix of admiration and something deeper, something that made my stomach churn.
“…Thank you for your kindness, Your Highness,” Orin murmured, his voice low and earnest. “You’re always so compassionate.”
She offered a small, warm smile, seemingly unaware of the infatuation in his gaze, her focus entirely on wrapping the bandage. “No need to thank me. You saved me once before, during that attack at the banquet.”
“No,” Orin pressed on, his tone growing more urgent, almost desperate. “It’s you. You make me feel seen, valued. I know this may be too forward of me, but I have to tell you, I—”
“Enough,” I interrupted, unable to hold back any longer. My voice cut through the air like a blade as I strode toward them, my anger barely contained.
Her head snapped up, a flicker of surprise crossing her face before it was quickly replaced by the familiar mask of cool indifference. Orin scrambled to his feet, his eyes dropping to the ground in deference.
“Your Highness,” he said with a quick bow, “the Princess was just passing by and—”
“Leave, Orin,” I ordered, my voice icy and unyielding. “Now.”
Orin hesitated, casting a fleeting glance at her. Only when she gave a subtle nod did he offer another respectful bow and retreat, his footsteps echoing down the corridor.
His hesitation only fueled my anger further. A primal rage surged within me, clawing at my chest, as if I could tear Orin apart for daring to look at her that way.
Now, it was just the two of us in the hallway, the silence between us heavy, like an impenetrable wall. I struggled to rein in the storm of emotions swirling inside me, but the bitterness slipped out before I could stop it.
“You seem to be so gentle with everyone,” I said at last, my voice laced with cold sarcasm, barely masking the anger beneath. “Whether it’s Orin or anyone else—as long as it’s not me.”
She calmly gathered the strips of cloth she’d used for the bandage, her expression unruffled. “Does Your Highness have any instructions for me?” she asked, her tone as composed as ever, as if my words hadn’t touched her at all.
“You seem to be kind to everyone,” I said at last, my suppressed rage morphing into a cold, biting sarcasm. “Whether it’s Orin or anyone else—as long as it’s not me.”
She calmly gathered the bandaging cloths, her movements deliberate. “Does Your Highness have any instructions for me?”
“Instructions?” I let out a bitter laugh. “Of course. My instruction is for you to explain what I just witnessed. Your concern for Orin seems to go far beyond what a Princess should show for her husband’s subordinate.”
“I was simply helping an injured person,” she replied, meeting my gaze with unwavering resolve. “As anyone with basic compassion would do. Especially since he was injured while carrying out your orders.”
“Compassion?” I sneered. “Or do you throw yourself at every man who crosses your path?”
The moment the words left my lips, I regretted them. Her face paled instantly, the color draining from her cheeks.
“I see,” she said quietly, her voice trembling faintly. “So that’s how you view me. And I suppose when you kissed Lady Sophia, it was out of some noble sentiment?”
Her retort left me speechless. I wanted to explain that the kiss was forced upon me by Sophia, but I hadn’t stopped it, had I? And wasn’t she the one who had grown close to Orin first? I couldn’t let myself lose this argument.
“You don’t understand,” I managed to say, grasping for words. “Sophia and I have a complicated history.”
“I understand perfectly, Your Highness,” she replied, her voice so calm it bordered on frigid.
“You and Lady Sophia share a deep bond, a history of affection. I, on the other hand, am merely a tool of political alliance, a vessel to break a curse. You owe me no explanations, nor do you need to concern yourself with my feelings.”
“No. That’s not true, Viossi.” I said urgently, reaching out to touch her, but she stepped back swiftly.
“Then what is it?” she countered, her lips quivering. “These past few days, you’ve gone out of your way to ensure I see you and Lady Sophia together, to flaunt your closeness. And now you accuse me of showing basic kindness to Orin? That’s rather hypocritical of you, Your Highness.”
Her words struck me like a blow to the chest. She had seen through everything. But how could she call me hypocritical? Was her relationship with Orin truly as innocent as she claimed?
“How could you ever compare to Sophia?” I shot back, my anger flaring. “She comes from nobility, raised with grace and refinement. And you—you’re nothing but—”
—A substitute bride from who knows where.
I stopped myself just in time, but the damage was done.
Her expression shifted, a storm of hurt flashing across her face before it was buried beneath an icy calm.
“You’re right, Your Highness,” she said softly, her voice eerily devoid of emotion. “I can’t compare to Lady Sophia. She is your past, your true love, and I am nothing.”
She turned and walked away, leaving me behind.
I stood there, stunned by my own stupidity and cruelty. I had meant to explain the truth about the kiss, but instead, I had spoken the most hurtful words possible. I should have chased after her, cast aside my foolish pride, and apologized—
“Your Highness!” A maid rushed toward me, breathless. “Lady Sophia has fainted!”