CHAPTER 7: The silence grow more deeper
713 Words
The palace corridors felt endless.
After her arrival, sophie was escorted to a chamber prepared for her stay. It was beautiful — high ceilings, tall windows covered in deep velvet curtains, candle stands placed carefully along the walls.
Everything was elegant.
Everything was perfect.
Yet nothing felt warm.
Emily did not stay long.
“I wish I could remain,” Emily whispered before leaving. “But the king’s orders were clear. I must return with the guards.”
Sophie nodded.
She did not allow her voice to break.
When the door finally closed behind Emily, the silence in the chamber became heavier than before.
For the first time since leaving her home—
She was completely alone.
Later that evening, a maid arrived.
“My lady, the royal family awaits you for dinner.”
Royal family.
The words settled uncomfortably in her chest.
She changed into a deep silver gown — simple but graceful. She refused to look fragile.
When the grand dining hall doors opened, candlelight flooded her vision.
The table was long and richly decorated.
King Richard sat at the head.
And beside him—
Him.
The same man she had seen before.
The man from the meeting. The man who once caught her when she nearly fell.
Prince Adrian.
Now she finally knew his name.
He was not smiling.
He was not frowning.
He simply watched.
And the moment she entered—
His eyes lifted to meet hers.
Recognition passed between them.
Not surprise.
Recognition.
“Princess Sophie,” King Richard said smoothly. “Please, join us.”
She walked forward with steady steps, though her heart was far from steady.
Her seat was placed directly across from Adrian.
Of course.
Dinner began with formal silence. Plates were served. Wine poured. Soft instrumental music played in the background.
King Richard spoke of alliances, trade, stability between kingdoms.
Shaviri responded politely when spoken to.
But across the table—
Adrian remained quiet.
Observing.
After several minutes, he finally spoke.
“The journey was long, I assume.”
His voice was calm. Even. Almost detached.
“Yes,” she replied.
A pause.
“There were… minor difficulties,” she added carefully.
His expression did not change.
“Travel is rarely without inconvenience,” he said.
Inconvenience.
Was that what it was?
Her eyes searched his face for something — curiosity, concern, reaction.
She found none.
Or perhaps he was simply good at hiding it.
“I believe we have met before,” she said gently.
King Richard’s gaze shifted toward them.
Adrian placed his fork down slowly.
“Yes,” he answered.
Again, nothing more.
No explanation of when. No acknowledgment of how.
The air between them felt stretched thin.
As if both were aware of something unspoken.
Dinner continued without drama.
Plans were briefly mentioned. Dates hinted at. Arrangements discussed.
Everything felt official.
Political.
When the meal ended, King Richard rose first.
“You both will have time to become acquainted,” he said before leaving the hall.
Servants began clearing the table.
For a brief moment, it was just the two of them standing in the fading candlelight.
Adrian stepped around the table, stopping a short distance from her.
Up close, he looked less distant.
Still unreadable.
“You should rest,” he said quietly.
She studied him carefully.
“Were you ever afraid of rumors?” she asked suddenly.
His eyes narrowed slightly.
“Rumors exist whether we fear them or not.”
“That was not my question.”
A small silence stretched between them.
Then—
“No,” he said calmly. “I do not fear what people choose to believe.”
Something about that answer unsettled her.
Not because of what he said.
But because of how he said it.
Measured. Controlled.
As if he was used to being misunderstood.
He inclined his head slightly.
“Goodnight, Princess.”
And then he walked away.
No confirmation. No denial. No revelation.
Sophie remained standing in the quiet hall long after he left.
Her mind replayed every word. Every pause. Every glance.
Was he involved in what happened on the road?
Or was she allowing fear to create connections that did not exist?
She did not know.
And that uncertainty—
That was what disturbed her most.
- Writer
