{Third Person}
By the ti the body arrived, the courtyard of the Second Prince’s residence had already been cleared.
Zarek stood there when it was brought in. He didn’t need any announcent or so sort of explanation. The mont the cloth-covered figure was laid on the ground before him, he already knew.
Still, he didn’t speak imdiately. His gaze lingered on it for a few seconds longer than necessary, quiet and unreadable, as though he were weighing sothing in his mind rather than reacting to what he saw.
Then, with a slow exhale, he stepped forward.
One of the guards standing nearby shifted uneasily, but said nothing.
Zarek nudged the body lightly with the tip of his shoe, just enough to confirm what he already understood. Dead.
And returned.
A faint scoff escaped him as he straightened. "So he killed him, sent it back."
His voice was calm, but there was an edge to it—thin, sharp, and unmistakably displeased.
No one dared respond to his statent.
Zarek tilted his head slightly, his gaze drifting off as he pieced it together. "The scent worked," he muttered. "He lost control... left his side... even made it into the girl’s room."
For a brief mont, sothing like satisfaction flickered in his eyes. But it didn’t last.
"...And then he collapsed."
That part sat badly with him.
His jaw tightened slightly, and this ti, the irritation didn’t hide itself. "What exactly was the point then?" he said, more to himself than anyone else. "All that effort, and nothing ca out of it."
He let out a short breath, running a hand through his hair in quiet frustration. He had expected more than this.
At the very least, an injury. A mistake. Sothing that would ripple beyond the walls of that residence and give him leverage.
Instead, it ended before it could truly begin.
Zarek glanced back at the body, his expression cooling. "And now he knows."
That much was obvious. Alexander would not have returned the corpse otherwise.
For a mont, Zarek said nothing again, but this ti, the silence felt different, less irritated and more thoughtful.
He turned away from the body and began pacing slowly across the courtyard, his steps asured as his mind worked through the situation.
For months now, he had been testing the waters with small provocations, controlled risks. Nothing too open, nothing too obvious. And yet, Alexander had never responded. Not once.
Zarek stopped. This was the part that bothered him.
"...You’ve been letting everything slide," he said under his breath, almost as if speaking directly to soone who wasn’t there.
But Alexander was not the type to ignore things. If he had remained silent this long, then it wasn’t indifference. It was restraint.
And restraint ant intention.
Zarek’s eyes narrowed slightly as that realization settled in. "So what are you waiting for?" he murmured.
For the first ti since the body had been delivered, a trace of unease slipped beneath his composure—not fear, but awareness.
Because a man who reacted imdiately was predictable. A man who didn’t, was not.
Zarek glanced once more at the covered body, then looked away completely, his interest in it already gone.
"Get rid of it," he said dismissively.
The guards moved at once.
But Zarek had already turned, his thoughts elsewhere now.
His earlier annoyance had simply taken a different shape. Because now, this was no longer just about provoking Alexander.
Now, all he wanted was to know what Alexander was planning before it was too late to respond.
═════ ❄✦❄ ═════
By the ti the sun had fully risen the next morning, Amara was already dressed and ready.
The soft fabric of her gown settled neatly around her as she stood in her room, giving herself a final glance before stepping away from the mirror.
At her feet, Ginger circled her once, then let out a soft ow, clearly expecting to follow her as usual.
Amara noticed imdiately. She bent slightly, reaching down to stroke its head. "Not today," she said gently. "I’m going to the Queen’s palace."
Ginger paused. For a mont, it simply stared at her, as though processing her words. Then, surprisingly, it withdrew on its own and sat back down.
Amara blinked. "...You understood that?" she asked, a small laugh escaping her lips.
The cat flicked its tail, unimpressed.
Shaking her head with a faint smile, Amara fully bent down, picked it up anyway, and stepped out of her room. Sonia was already nearby, and Amara carefully placed Ginger into her arms.
"Watch her for ," she said.
Sonia nodded imdiately. "Yes, my lady."
Ginger did not resist this ti, though its eyes followed Amara as she stepped away.
With that, Amara turned and joined Mrs. Woods, who was already waiting.
"Shall we?" Mrs. Woods asked.
Amara nodded, and together, they stepped out of the house.
The morning air was cool, carrying a quiet calm that almost made it easy to forget where she was headed.
Almost.
They had barely taken a few steps into the courtyard when another figure ca into view. Alexander.
He was walking toward the residence, Jasper a step behind him, both of them just returning.
Amara’s steps slowed. For a mont, the image from yesterday flashed across her mind—the massive black wolf, the broken door, the fear that had gripped her so tightly.
Her fingers curled slightly at her sides, but just as quickly she steadied herself. By the ti they drew close enough, her expression had already composed itself.
"Your Highness," she said, her voice polite as she greeted him.
Alexander, however, had already seen her. Unfortunately, he rembered enough from yesterday, especially the very inconvenient detail of how that entire encounter had ended.
His jaw tightened almost imperceptibly. Out of all the ways that situation could have gone, that was not one he intended to dwell on.
Without breaking stride, he avoided her gaze entirely and continued forward, his pace subtly quickening as though the entrance to the house had suddenly beco far more important than anything else.
He did not respond or react. Not even a nod.
Jasper, following behind, kept his expression carefully neutral, though the situation was not lost on him.
Amara remained rooted at the spot and stood for a mont, watching Alexander walk past her without so much as an acknowledgent.
Then she turned slightly, her brows knitting together in confusion as her gaze followed his retreating back.
"...Did I offend him?" she asked quietly.
Mrs. Woods, who had observed the entire exchange, had to suppress the smile that threatened to show.
She composed herself quickly before answering. "No, my lady," she replied with a steady tone. "You did not offend His Highness."
Amara looked unconvinced.
Mrs. Woods continued, guiding her gently toward the waiting carriage.
"If anything, His Highness is likely... uncomfortable," she added.
Amara glanced at her. "Uncomfortable?"
"Mm," Mrs. Woods nodded. "He may feel guilty for frightening you yesterday."
That made Amara pause. Then she gave a small, doubtful look. "...His Highness?" she repeated, clearly not buying it.
Mrs. Woods only smiled faintly and said nothing more.
Amara let out a quiet breath as she stepped into the carriage, deciding not to press further. Even if she didn’t quite believe that explanation, she also wasn’t sure what else it could be.
And with where she was headed now, she had more pressing matters to think about.
User Comments
0 comments from readers