Diana Of Alcotta (Yrsoreth Chronicles 1)

20 ♛ Teeth on Flesh

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Xander and the still sleeping Diana already returned to the cafe by the backdoor and rode the original carriage back to the castle. If there were a spy, they would wonder why the prince's fiancee was unconscious.

But it could only be masked with his acting of worry, that other's would think Diana fainted. He had seen women of all status get drunk in various circumstances, but nobody was able to cross the wall, such as sleep in his lap. Well, except for one. But it was more of he was the one intoxicated.

Diana stirred in his sleep and mumbled something between '...mine' or '...bye'.

Unlike her, Xander was very much awake and regretful. He once opposed to the expression that 'All men are wolves.' And yet, he considered himself to be one at the moment-a wolf. A big, bad wolf, on the verge of taking in the defenseless black rabbit by his lap. Once she sobers up, he will give her a stern reminder never to drink outside the confines of her home, even with the people she trusts.

No, definitely not with the people she trusts, he thought, considering that she trusted him too.

But what about after their engagement is over? How would he ensure her safety?

Xander could not answer nor wonder why he was concerned, the halting motion of the carriage scooped him out of his reverie, and the Silver palace was humongous outside the carriage window.

He exited the carriage with her in his arms. "My fiancee fainted from exhaustion and seemed she's not feeling well," he announced before the head maid could ask. "She'd rest for now. The doctor can be called tomorrow."

He carried her from the entrance, through the hallways, up the grand staircase, and to her room, with the maids behind him.

But once he placed her on the bed, her grip on his hands tightened, and tears spilled from her closed eyes.

He hesitated for a second and pulled his hand away. He turned and let the waiting maids take over.

"Come back later, I'll stay here for now," he said as if his mouth had a mind of their own.

The maids already left, but Xander was still standing a few feet from the bed, asking himself what he was doing.

With the question unanswered, he was back at her bedside, wiping the tears on her cheeks. Her brows knitted, and her mouth shook.

What is her nightmare about? How can he stop the tears? And why is his hand intertwined with hers once more?

He knew the answer, of course, and it was dangerous, but he still caressed her cheek until her face relaxed, and her breath was steady and even.

He remembered the awe of the men at the bar earlier and regretted his choice to let her expose her face. The long lashes that hooded her eyes usually frames her vivid expressions. Her black, slanting eyes glimmered with a light of their own. Her mouth, red and supple, spoke bold words.

He must have been blind the first time they met to think that she was ordinary.

But why did Bludis' daughter, Avelyn, mistook her for another person?

The longer he stared, the more Xander realized that his fiancee was nowhere ordinary than he initially thought. Even the king, Augustus, was mesmerized.

Unlike before, Xander frowned. In an attempt to clear his mind, he looked around the room. She was staying in for more than a month now, and yet, her chamber was scarce of her personal things. Most of them were his gifts. The room was luxurious, but it was generic. There were no handcrafted vases nor paintings she made herself, like the manor on the island.