THE ROYAL PRINCE'S CLAIM

9; ChessBoard.

9- “Chess Board”.

Aurora Black.

I pressed my thumbnail into my index finger as I watched him with my keen eyes as he moved around the room. He picked up a sugar cube, then dropped it into his cup, repeating it a couple of times. One, two, three, four…I counted seven in total before he closed the box. Then, he stirred the tea, and once seemingly satisfied, he picked it up, then took a sip of it, making his way over to where the couches are, settling on that opposite me.

The silence dragged on for a few minutes, and there was nothing comforting about it in the slightest. My gaze remained on the Prince as he casually took sips of his tea, never once sparing me a glance. The way he was so coordinated on his actions, you would think he does not have someone waiting for him.

I counted the minutes in my head as I waited, feeling as though I am sitting on needles. This did not happen in the past, my encounter with him did not reach this point—so, I have no prior knowledge on what would happen, aside from what I had managed to predict.

I counted approximately four minutes, and thirty seven seconds until his voice finally came, calm, unbothered, with a hint of coldness impossible to be missed. “You used me,” He stated calmly, as a matter of fact.

I loosed my thumb digging into the thumbnail, as I lifted my chin slightly as I fixated my gaze on him, “I helped you,” I corrected, my own voice steady surprisingly. Internally, I am a mess from uncertainty, but I tamped it down, pretending otherwise.

I saw the way the corners of his lips tilted upwards slightly, but there was nothing amusing about his expression. Then, he looked up, and our gazes met. I found myself swallowing down a lump, my heart rate spiking behind my rib cage. As those familiar electric blue eyes held my gaze, I found myself plunged in memories of that night.

I remember how those electric blue eyes seemed, how they looked as I found myself falling off the cliff. It was too dark to tell what his facial expression is, but I remembered how those piercing eyes looked, there is no mistaking it. He is the one, those blue eyes were his. I do not know anyone else with eyes as electric as his, and holding his gaze at this moment, they brought the memories and sent them crashing without prior notice.

I had to hold myself from succumbing in fear and trauma of what I had gone through. So far, I had managed to relive through every single scene with a calm head, up until this point—up until this moment that did not exist before, and I do not have the upper hand.

I could feel my breath becoming heavy, and the surrounding blurring into darkness, reminiscent of that night, the familiar feel of my body flowing in the air, suspended as I looked ahead, fear no doubt evident and etched on my expression, seeking some sort of help until it all disappeared into total darkness.

Then his voice came again, and I am snapped back from that abyss threatening to take me back, pulling me out with a jerk that I had to grit my teeth to stop myself from totally succumbing.

“Really?” He expertly arched a brow, his earlier smile disappearing as his expression became dead serious, his eyes, the coldest, more than the Antarctic, and lethal even. When he spoke again, his voice had dropped octaves lower, holding every bit of power he wields with very little effort, making him intimidating. “Tell me, what makes you think you can be of help to me?”

His tone, though concealed well enough…it was mocking. He was mocking my lowly status for daring to claim I was of help to him. He was testing me, jabbing where it is supposed to hurt the most.

What he does not know however, is that there is nothing he can say that will upset me. I have been through more than he can possibly imagine.

So, I remained unbothered by his words, unfazed even by the cold and penetrating eyes threatening to see through me to my deepest and darkest secrets.

“I got rid of Killian for you,” I said, my tone composed as I held his gaze.

He let out a slight, humorless chuckle, as if amused by my stupidity or short sightedness. “You plotted against your Alpha,” He stated, his amusement wearing off as he held my gaze with his daring ones. “That is treason.”

I hummed, nodding slowly. Pushing myself to get on my feet, I slowly made my way over to him, my gaze holding his. I watched his expression up close, how unbothered he looked as I closed the distance between us, though something akin to vague interest flickered across his expression as I closed the distance, stopping once in front of him.

Then, I parted my lips to speak, my eyes never leaving his. “Have me arrested then,”

Once again, he arched a brow. “You think I cannot?” He asked, almost daringly.

I smiled, “Do it,” I dared. “Have me arrested for plotting against an Alpha.”

He did not say a thing, simply stared for longer than necessary. His dragged silence though is scarier than for him to speak, because I do not know what is going through that head of his.

Then, he crossed his legs, leaning his elbow on the armrest, his fingers underneath his chin as he tilted his head slightly, his gaze never leaving mine as if he is trying to unravel me or something. I felt exposed under his gaze, but I did not falter.

“You intentionally planned for me to get evidence against him,” He suddenly said, his tone calm, but calculating. “You will not be stupid enough to do so without motive. You knew I would get you. Did you not?”

“I wanted you to get me,” I said instead, clearing up the question in his head. What he means is, he does not believe I did it out of the spur of the moment or some momentarily dislike towards Killian, I must have known how sloppy my plan is, that nothing of such would be able to get past him—that he will know I am behind it.

But that exactly is what I wanted, for him to get me. For him to know I am the one behind it, and for him to come to me. Dare I say, this is all a part of my plans and it is all falling into place—like the pieces of a chess puzzle on the board.