The Knight And His Princess

CHAPTER 12

Arthur’s POV

“Well played, Charlie. Well played,” Grandpa patted my back, watching the shot I had just taken.

It was Sunday, and as promised, I was here playing golf with Grandpa—showing off the expertise I’d honed under his guidance over the years.

“Arthur, what a great shot, son,” Grandpa’s best friend, Alfred, said as he walked toward me. I offered him a polite smile. Alfred and Grandpa had been friends since their school days. In fact, they had a whole gang of friends in high school who, from the old photos I’d seen, were the definition of cool. Gammy used to tell me stories about their wild days—how naughty they used to be.

“Thanks, Alfred. Your turn,” I said, handing him the golf club I was holding.

“Ahh, by the way... I heard that you and my granddaughter are seeing each other,” he said casually. I froze.

“You see, son, this news has made an old man very happy. Hannah deserves someone like you. I’ve always hoped you two would end up together. Maybe God finally gave me what I always prayed for.” He took the golf club from my hand, completely unaware of the stunned look on my face.

Where the hell did he hear that from?

It had to be Mom. Or maybe... Shawn—Hannah’s father.

Damn it.

I never intended to hurt anyone’s feelings, but marriage? I can’t marry her. Hannah’s a sweet girl—I do love her... but not like that. I really hope she hasn’t heard anything yet. I don’t want to imagine what she’ll think once she knows my parents are trying to push this arrangement.

A hand landed on my shoulder, snapping me out of my thoughts. I flinched slightly at the contact and looked up—only to find a pair of intense grey eyes staring straight into me.

“All good, Charlie?” he asked, his expression unreadable. I nodded with a sigh.

I need to deal with this before it gets out of hand.

“We’ll talk after the game,” he said, then walked away toward Alfred, who was aiming for his shot. I took a deep breath. He definitely sensed something wasn’t right. Of course he did—he knows exactly how I feel about Hannah. Even Gammy does. But my perfect parents? They’ve chosen to stay blissfully blind to it.

---

We spent the entire day on the golf course before finally calling it. Lunch was at Grandpa’s mansion—yes, his very own golf course right beside it. Gammy had made a delicious meal, which we devoured like starving beasts.

Afterward, Alfred said his goodbyes and left—he had promised to meet his son later that afternoon. Gammy went to her room to rest; a heavy lunch tends to do that.

Grandpa and I headed to his study. We settled into our usual spots, and he pulled out the chessboard. I smiled.

“Up for a round of chess, Charlie?” he asked, arranging the pieces.

“Always,” I smirked. And so, the game began.

“Is it true you’re getting married to Hannah?” he asked suddenly, seriousness laced in his tone.

“No. Not at all,” I sighed. Grandpa looked at me with concern as I made my move.

“Is it Ricardo again?” he asked, eyes narrowing.

I exhaled sharply. Grandpa knew all too well how Dad used to force his decisions on me growing up. He’d always been against it—always the one pushing me to take control of my own life. And that’s exactly what I’m doing now. What I’ll continue to do. I won’t let anyone steer my path—not even my parents.

“Dad and Mum want me to marry Hannah so I can get settled,” I said, rolling my eyes as I moved a piece. “Your turn.”

“I know for a fact you love Hannah like a sister,” he muttered, picking up his rook.

“Maybe my i***t of a son misread your affection.”

I chuckled. Only Grandpa would call Ricardo that.

“So what will you do now?” he asked, placing the rook down.

“I already told you—I’m not marrying Hannah,” I said plainly.

“I know that, you i***t. I meant—whom will you marry?” he asked, rolling his eyes.

I stared at him, confused.

“Grandpa, I’m not getting married. Not now. I haven’t even found anyone I could imagine making my wife.” I scanned my chess pieces.

“You know, I got married to your beautiful Gammy at your age. Your father married your crazy mother—”

I laughed as he called my mom crazy. Well, she is. A bit.

“So, as my grandson and Ricardo’s son, you should get married soon too,” he said firmly.

“Really, Grandpa? You think that’ll work on me?” I said, moving a pawn.

“C’mon. We’re not getting any younger. You’re our only grandchild because that jerk of my son didn’t bother having more kids. All we want is to see you start a family—a wife who loves you, and together you’ll have lots of children. Say twelve? No, fifteen! Yeah—fifteen kids minimum. Imagine them running around this entire place calling me ‘Grandpa.’ That’d be total bliss.” He looked off dreamily.

I cringed.

“Your turn,” I said flatly.

“You’re just like Ricardo. An idiot.” He huffed like a kid. I chuckled.

“Right now, I don’t have anyone to help me make fifteen kids. Besides, why should I get married to give you grandkids when I could just give you kids without the marriage part?” I said with a grin.

“Shut up. No illegitimate children allowed. You must marry the mother first,” he shot back sternly. I smiled, shaking my head.

As he focused on his next move, my phone buzzed—a text from an old friend, asking to meet on Wednesday.

Me: Tell me the place and time. I’ll see if I can make it.

I sent the reply and tossed the phone aside, not giving the meeting much thought. Probably just a casual reunion with the boys. My mind went back to the game.

---

“Mark, tell me my schedule for Wednesday,” I said over the phone, flipping through a stack of files in my study, searching for the one tied to my New York project.

“Morning, 10 AM—board meeting as you instructed. At 2 PM, meeting with chief architect Mr. Travolta. And at 8 PM, dinner meeting with Mr. Shawn Mathew. That’s all for now.”

I stopped.

“Dinner meeting?” I asked, voice sharp.

“M-Mr. Ricardo asked me to schedule it…” Mark replied, his voice shaky.

“Cancel it. Anything else?” I resumed sorting through the papers.

“But Sir—”

“Mark, anything else?” I cut him off, cold.

A long pause. Then, “No, Sir.”

“Good night, Mark.” I ended the call and texted my friend—Wednesday evening works.

My eyes scanned the files again. My study often ends up looking like a storm hit it. I handle multiple projects at once—intentionally. I like keeping myself buried in work. It gets hectic, yes. Overwhelming sometimes. But it keeps me alive. I like the grind. I like proving myself.

I finally found the file I needed.

But my eyes landed on another one—the familiar blue file lying just beside it.

‘Rainah Garcia.’

I picked it up, flipping it open even though I already knew what was inside. Somehow, going through it again made me feel close to her—my princess. Her photo stared back at me—smiling like an angel, lighting up my world.

I groaned under my breath.

Two days. It’s only been two damn days since I last saw her. And yet, I can’t get her out of my head. I don’t want her out of my head. But this obsession... it’s growing louder, more unbearable by the second.

I want to hold her. Just once more.

I would have courted her in a heartbeat—if she were single. But now that I know she loves someone else... I won’t make a move. I want her happy. Even if that means staying away.

But you could check on her once, whispered a voice in my head.

I ran my thumb over her face in the photo. Without even realizing it, a smile crept onto my lips.

This angel... she had the power to do that.

Without a second thought, I grabbed my keys and left.

I’ll just have a look, I told myself. Just one look. I promise.

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