The Princess's Manservant

CHAPTER THIRTEEN - Unsent Words

Alex finally arrived at the palace just before night began to signal that the day should retire. He greeted the guards and stepped inside, heading toward the intercession, where he caught a glimpse of the princess speaking with Adaora.

However, their body language was different. They leaned close, whispering into each other's ears with soft chuckles. Alex wanted to approach, but instead he hid behind a pillar, continuing to watch. Then he saw it—a letter tucked into Adaora's hands with care and urgency.

The princess's expression soon turned serious. She raised her hand as though giving specific instructions. Adaora nodded repeatedly before leaving, and the princess retreated in the opposite direction. Overwhelmed by curiosity, Alex followed her, his bag and coat still on him.

He trailed her through the corridors, noticing she was heading toward the business wing of the palace. She entered the steward's office.

What on earth is she doing?

Alex wondered. Thankfully, the door wasn't fully closed. He peered through the narrow opening—and there he saw it.

"The letter," he muttered, a short, soft gasp escaping him.

The envelope was unmistakable. He recognized it instantly—how could he not, when it was so unique?

He also saw Adaora handing the steward four silver pieces of manillas before turning to leave. With haste, Alex hid behind stacks of crates. Once Adaora was out of sight, he began devising a way to lure the steward out of the office.

The steward was a grumpy man, always at a distance, but he had one weakness—his work. He took it seriously and despised mistakes of any kind. Alex's eyes fixed on the crates of onions stacked outside the exit.

He approached, scanned the area, and muttered, "Sorry," before pushing everything over and hiding again.

The steward heard the commotion while sorting letters meant for the post office. He stepped out of his office, looked toward the back entrance, and shouted, "What on earth is going on here?" as he rushed downstairs.

He immediately began instructing the workers on how to pick up, check, and rearrange the onions—allowing Alex to slip into and out of the office with the letter.

With victory in his grasp, he heard his name.

"Alex."

He froze, then turned slowly, hiding the letter within his cloak. "Yes, sir?"

"Did you see who did it?" the steward asked, fuming.

"Did what, sir?" Alex replied, acting coy.

"Who tumbled the onions. I was sure they were well arranged."

"I'm afraid I didn't see anything."

How could he have seen it, when he was the one who did it?

The steward sighed in resignation and turned away. Alex grinned, excitement flickering through him, then headed toward his quarters, carefully avoiding the servants' wing. He dropped his bag beside the bed, took off his cloak, and flung it aside before sitting comfortably in the chair.

He pushed the handbook to the side and began reading the letter.

He was mesmerized by the delicateness of the handwriting—still shocked that it belonged to the woman who had struck his face and scolded him. So much had happened, yet seeing and reading the letter made him feel strangely at ease.

The letter expressed subtle excitement and a gentle eagerness at the thought of a shared agreement to know each other. His fingers couldn't help but linger on the parts where the princess expressed gratitude before asking questions about his kingdom.

I heard your horses are bred to be wild until a certain age. Is that true?

I heard you were a boorish man, but from your letters you seem quite refined. Tell me about your days at home.

What do you do?

He chuckled, placing the letter over his face, slightly embraced by the moment.

How is she this different?

Like a child meeting a new friend for the first time, he wondered.

However, something was missing. The bond ceremony was not mentioned at all. Its absence reminded him of what Obinna had said, though he brushed the thought aside.

The letter was something he would respond to—later.

He hid it beneath his bed and turned his attention to the handbook. His hand hovered over the fine pressed print on the leather before he began flipping through its pages.

He started with the summary:

The bond system—an age-long tradition kept among the influential and powerful. Once mandatory for royals to safeguard lineage and secrets, it has since expanded to nobles of high standing due to their influence and growing power...

"Boring," Alex muttered, uninterested in the history.

As he skimmed further, he noticed the book had no illustrations. He sighed.

These people are truly dull, he thought.

Then something caught his eye.

THE BOND SYSTEM GUIDELINES

He sat up almost instantly.

Aids are primarily of the opposite gender to the leader, but certain exceptions are made.

Due to specialized training, the royal family may be given a male aid to safeguard lineage from scandal, physical harm, or danger.

Same-gender aids may be requested, but such requests must be made days before the official ceremony to allow for special preparation.

"Interesting," Alex murmured. His mind flashed back to the gardener mentioning how the current butler was the king's aid.

A knock interrupted his thoughts.

"Who is it?" he asked.

"I apologize for the intrusion, but it is dinner time," a lady replied.

"Oh, thank you. I'll be out shortly," he answered.

He waited until she left before scrambling to straighten his bedding and clothes. Then he headed out for dinner, his thoughts already drifting toward the days ahead.