The Persian Prince

Chapter 3: Unpleasant News

Seraphina returned home just as the golden glow of evening began to fade from the sky. The walk back from the lake had been longer than usual, not because of the distance, but because she had lingered there far more than she intended. The calm water, the gentle breeze, the freedom she felt beneath the open sky—it had all made her forget the passing time.

The moment she stepped into the mansion, the familiar warmth of home wrapped around her. Servants moved quietly through the hallways, carrying trays and folded linens, while the faint aroma of herbs and roasted meat drifted from the kitchen.

Still holding the woven basket against her hip, Seraphina headed straight there.

As expected, she found her mother supervising the evening meal.

Lady Evelyne stood near the large wooden counter, gracefully instructing the maids as they hurried around her. Despite her elegant appearance and noble status, there was always something comforting about her presence. She wore softness like a second skin.

The moment she noticed Seraphina entering, her brows furrowed slightly.

"Seraphina," she called. "Where have you been? You took so long."

Seraphina placed the basket down and exhaled dramatically.

"Oh, Mother," she said, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. "I am not a child anymore. I can take care of myself."

Lady Evelyne opened her mouth to reply, but before a single word left her lips, the deep voice of Seraphina's father echoed from the front hall.

"Evelyne!"

The maids immediately lowered their heads and stepped aside.

Lady Evelyne exchanged a glance with her daughter before wiping her hands lightly on a cloth. "Your father is home."

Together, mother and daughter left the kitchen and made their way toward the sitting room.

Lord Armand sat proudly on one of the velvet chairs, dressed in formal attire that suggested he had returned directly from royal affairs. His sharp features carried authority effortlessly, and even after years of marriage, Lady Evelyne still straightened slightly in his presence.

Seraphina and her mother greeted him before taking their seats beside him.

For a brief moment, silence lingered in the room.

Then Lord Armand spoke.

"The royal council meeting was held today," he announced.

Seraphina listened absentmindedly at first, until his next words made her stomach tighten.

"The selection ceremony for the Crown Prince's bride will take place in three days."

The room suddenly felt too small.

Lord Armand turned his gaze toward her.

"You will be attending."

Seraphina blinked slowly.

Her fingers tightened against her dress.

"Father…" she began carefully, "I am not interested."

His expression darkened immediately.

"I do not care for the Crown Prince," she continued, forcing the words out before fear could stop her. "And I do not wish to marry someone simply because of his title. I want to marry someone I love."

The atmosphere shifted instantly.

Lady Evelyne's eyes widened slightly, silently warning her daughter to stop, but Seraphina had already crossed the line.

Lord Armand's face hardened.

"Love?" he repeated sharply. "You speak like a foolish child."

Seraphina's jaw tightened.

"This is not your choice to make," he continued sternly. "You are my daughter, and you will do as you are told. The honor of this family comes before your childish fantasies."

"But Father—"

"No."

His voice thundered through the room.

"You will attend that ball, and you will present yourself properly before the royal family. That is final."

Seraphina felt anger rise hotly in her chest.

For a moment, she looked at him in disbelief.

Why did everyone speak of her future as though she had no place in it?

Without another word, she rose from her seat abruptly.

"Seraphina!" her father barked as she turned away.

But she ignored him.

Her footsteps echoed angrily through the hallway as she stormed upstairs, leaving behind her furious father and her mother, who gently tried calming him down.

"She is young," Lady Evelyne said softly. "Please, do not be too harsh on her."

Meanwhile, Seraphina reached her chambers with burning eyes.

The maids quickly prepared her bath upon seeing her mood. Steam soon filled the room, carrying the scent of lavender and jasmine oils. Normally, such comforts soothed her, but tonight they barely reached her troubled mind.

After bathing, she slipped into a soft nightgown and climbed onto her bed.

Moonlight spilled through the curtains, painting silver patterns across the room.

She reached for the small leather diary hidden inside her bedside drawer.

Opening it carefully, she dipped her quill into ink and began to write.

Every frustration. Every fear. Every ounce of anger she could not speak aloud.

By the time she finished, her heart felt slightly lighter.

She set the diary aside and reached for a romance novel resting nearby, hoping to lose herself in another world entirely—one where people married for love instead of duty.

But exhaustion soon overtook her.

The book slipped gently from her fingers as sleep claimed her.

The next morning arrived far too quickly.

Sunlight streamed through her curtains as maids hurried around preparing her bath and breakfast. Seraphina moved through the routine absentmindedly, still weighed down by yesterday's argument.

She had barely finished breakfast when one of the maids entered hurriedly.

"My lady," she said with a bow, "your instructor has arrived."

Seraphina frowned in confusion.

"Instructor?"

Curious and slightly suspicious, she headed downstairs.

The moment she entered the sitting room, she froze.

Her father stood there speaking to a tall man dressed elegantly in formal attire.

The stranger bowed politely when he saw her.

"Good morning, my lady."

Seraphina looked between them.

"What is this?"

Lord Armand answered calmly.

"This man is a professional dance instructor. From today until the royal ball, he will be teaching you proper court dancing."

Seraphina stared at him in disbelief.

"You cannot be serious."

"You will need these lessons," he replied coldly. "You will represent this family well."

Her stomach twisted with frustration.

Why did it suddenly feel like her happiness no longer mattered at all?

Before she could protest further, Lord Armand had already grabbed his gloves.

"I have matters to attend to at the castle," he said before leaving without another glance.

The door shut behind him.

Seraphina turned slowly toward the instructor.

The lessons began immediately.

And they were dreadful.

Seraphina stumbled constantly, missed steps, stepped on the instructor's shoes more times than she could count, and nearly tripped over her own dress twice.

Whether it was intentional or not, even she could not tell anymore.

The instructor, however, remained surprisingly patient.

"Relax, my lady," he said for what felt like the hundredth time.

"I am relaxed," she muttered while accidentally crushing his foot again.

By the end of the lesson, both of them looked exhausted.

The moment it ended, Seraphina escaped to the garden terrace where her mother had been quietly watching the entire disaster unfold.

Lady Evelyne smiled faintly as Seraphina collapsed dramatically into the seat beside her.

"I do not want to do this," Seraphina groaned.

Her mother sighed softly.

"I know."

"Then make Father stop."

A sad look crossed Lady Evelyne's face.

"You know I cannot."

Seraphina looked away bitterly.

For a moment, silence passed between them.

Then suddenly, Lady Evelyne leaned closer with a small smile.

"But perhaps you are worrying too much."

Seraphina frowned. "What do you mean?"

"Well," her mother said lightly, "there will be countless noble ladies at the ball. Daughters from powerful families across the kingdom."

Seraphina blinked.

Lady Evelyne continued, "The prince can only choose one. Who says it will be you?"

Slowly, realization dawned on Seraphina's face.

Her mother chuckled softly.

"With so many beautiful and accomplished ladies present, you may not even be noticed."

For the first time since yesterday, Seraphina smiled.

Actually smiled.

The tension inside her loosened instantly.

What were the chances the Crown Prince would even recognize her among dozens of noblewomen?

Relief flooded through her.

"Oh, Mother!"

Laughing happily, she threw her arms around Lady Evelyne in a tight embrace.

The two soon fell into cheerful conversation, discussing everything except the prince himself.

Their peaceful moment was interrupted when a maid approached.

"My lady, your friends are here to see you."

Seraphina immediately knew what topic awaited her.

As expected, the moment her friends gathered inside the lounge, excitement about the royal ball filled the air.

Everyone talked eagerly about dresses, jewels, hairstyles, and most importantly—the Crown Prince.

Some openly dreamed about becoming future queen.

Others spoke of attracting wealthy dukes or powerful noblemen if not the prince himself.

Beneath all the laughter and compliments, Seraphina could sense something else lingering beneath the surface.

Competition.

Every girl wanted to stand out.

Every girl wanted to be chosen.

The atmosphere slowly became suffocating.

Uncomfortable with the direction of the conversation, Seraphina quickly shifted the topic toward lighter matters, and thankfully, the tension eased.

Hours later, her friends finally departed.

The mansion became quiet once more.

Seraphina returned to her room and shut the doors behind her.

For the rest of the day, she remained there alone.

Sometimes reading.

Sometimes staring out the window.

And sometimes simply thinking about the future waiting for her in three days.