The Cursed Princess

Chapter 5 Thomas Claire

I closed my eyes, numbly scrubbing away the shoeprint from my face.

A heavy sense of fatigue settled over me.

Perhaps this life, enduring like a weed in the cracks, would continue until the day I died.

Reaching for the towel I kept on the windowsill, I grasped nothing but air.

The next moment, a fresh, soap-scented towel was pressed into my hands.

Startled, I wiped my face quickly, glancing up to see a familiar pair of black leather boots.

Then, I saw a pair of dark military pants stretched over legs so muscular that they nearly bulged through the fabric.

I raised my gaze higher and found myself face-to-face with a stunning man—golden-haired, blue-eyed, with chiseled features that even a plain white shirt couldn't disguise his intense aura.

I took a few steps back, wary. "Who are you? How did you get in here?"

"You were the one watching from the window, weren't you?" he asked, his tall frame awkwardly hunched under the low ceiling.

His usually sharp eyes softened, like a flawless emerald glinting under gentle light.

Though there was a flicker of something in them—a warning?

"What if I was?" I replied, straightening my back, a hint of sarcasm in my voice.

He looked at me as if I were a child throwing a tantrum over a lost candy.

"So, is this how Duke of Swording's guards behave—arrogant and rude?" I scoffed, clutching the towel tightly. "Or do you intend to punish me on behalf of your master?"

My gaze was as desolated as a graveyard, a reflection of the silent resentment I harbored within. Despite my efforts to bear this shame daily, a heavy weight on my chest left me feeling like I could never truly breathe.

I hadn't chosen my birth, nor could I alter my fate.

Though I had never meant to harm anyone, those poor souls did die because of me. It seemed getting closer to me could bring them misfortune.

Even if I had been trying to distance myself from everyone, I couldn't resist the power of fate.

Sometimes, I regretted being born and wished I could drop dead instantly.

My existence brought nothing but pain and death.

After years of unfair torture, the glimmer of hope in my eyes had long extinguished.

If Teal hadn't encouraged me all the time, I would have died long ago.

I walked over to him and suddenly dropped to my knees, bowing my head in submission.

"Go on then, end my curse. I'd be eternally grateful."

I waited, hoping for the release I'd yearned for, but the silence stretched.

What was he waiting for? Such a simple act to finish me for good, yet he hesitated.

What was wrong with him?

Confused, I looked up and found myself staring into a pair of compassionate, emerald-green eyes.

His expression was a mix of pity and weariness as he pinched the bridge of his nose. "Are you really this weak, lacking even the courage to keep living?"

My frustration boiled over, and I trembled with anger.

"What would you know of my suffering? Everyone treats me like a plague! Do you know what it's like to be forsaken by the entire world?"

I held up my trembling hands. "Can't you see them? These hands are stained red, tainted with innocent blood. I am the cursed princess, and killing me wouldn't tarnish your knightly honor. It would only be an act of mercy."

I threw my head back, my voice hoarse, and screamed, "Just kill me!"

"There are no such things as curses," he replied, lowering himself onto the attic's lone chair, calm and unwavering. "If curses worked, why would we need soldiers?"

I froze, feeling as though my backbone had been ripped out, leaving me utterly deflated.

"No... curses?" My voice broke, my nose stinging. "Then all these years... have I been wrong?"

Thomas leaned back with a quiet authority that transformed the rickety attic into something stately as if he were seated on a throne.

He glanced at me and said, "You did nothing wrong. The fault lies with those weaklings who lay blame on an innocent child. There's no curse, only cowardice and pettiness hidden in their hearts."

A chuckle bubbled up from deep within my chest, and a wave of relief swept over me. My laughter spilled over as tears fell freely, shattering on the floor.

At that moment, I seemed to spark in the faint light, like I had been blessed with a rebirth.

"Thomas Claire," he introduced himself, watching me with satisfaction, a rare smile softening his otherwise rugged features. "Now, do you want revenge? Do you want to see those who wronged you pay for their sins?"

I shook my head to clear the tears from my eyes and, biting my lip, replied, "Look at me—I can barely stand. How could I possibly take revenge?"

Thomas rose, stepping over the broken shards on the floor. Then, he stopped beside my bed.

"Your dear uncle is hiding someone here that I need to find. Help me, and he'll be in serious trouble. Don't you want to see him fall?"

I dropped my gaze, uncertain. The man before me was shrouded in mystery; his words could easily be deceitful.

"Mr. Claire, I'm sorry, but I can't help. Jenny Manor is the largest estate in Northtown. There are many corners even I haven't explored, plenty of places to hide a person. And as you can see... I'm not well."

"You're willing to protect the very people who torment you?"

Thomas interrupted, his expression clouded with disappointment, frustration, and anger.

"I..."

I began, but a shout interrupted me from downstairs, a voice pleading and desperate. "Let go of me! I won't leave. I must look after Her Highness!"

"Teal..."

The sound of her distress hit me like lightning, and I stumbled down the stairs, nearly tripping in my haste.