The Princess

Chapter seven: The letter from Gaius

The drive back to the castle was supposed to be quiet—comforting, even. A brief cocoon of silence where I could pretend, just for a little while, that everything wasn’t falling apart. Lia had returned to her dormitory with a promise to write, though we both knew she never would. And now, once again, I was being ushered back into the suffocating embrace of reality, where my title meant more than my desires, and duty was a noose tightening around my neck.

The car purred steadily along the narrow, winding road, cutting through the fog like a blade. I leaned back against the leather seat, trying to will the tension from my shoulders, when I noticed it—his eyes. Leonard, my assigned chauffeur, was stealing glances at me through the rearview mirror. Subtle at first, but then increasingly frequent. Curious. Concerned.

I should have ignored it. Should have been above it. But his gaze began to grate like sandpaper across raw skin.

“If you plan on getting us both killed, by all means, keep looking back here,” I snapped, my voice slicing through the cabin with icy authority. “Otherwise, keep your eyes on the road.”

He blinked, startled, and muttered a sheepish apology. His hands gripped the wheel a little tighter, his jaw clenching ever so slightly. Good. I preferred him that way—silent, composed, unreadable. It was easier that way. I didn’t want his pity. I didn’t need it. I liked him better when he was just a driver, not a man who thought he understood the turmoil stitched into my silences.

The castle gates loomed into view minutes later, rising like ancient sentinels out of the mist. The gardens flanking the path were a riot of color, stubbornly clinging to beauty even as autumn threatened to strip them bare. My eyes lingered on the gardeners, bent over their work, their faces soft with peace and routine.

What would happen to them if I lost? If my uncle’s campaign to take what was rightfully mine succeeded? Would the rosebushes be the first to go, the fountains left to dry and crack beneath the winter frost? Would the laughter echoing faintly from the kitchen courtyard fade into silence?

I scoffed aloud, as if the sound could banish the thought. It would never come to that. I couldn’t let it. I wouldn’t.

The limousine slowed to a gentle stop beneath the arching entrance of the castle. Leonard stepped out first and opened the door for me, his head lowered in deference. I offered a tight nod, slipping from the confines of the car and into the brisk afternoon air. The butler, Lucas , appeared almost instantly, his posture as rigid as his expression.

“Alphonso left immediately after you did, Your Grace,” he said, tone carefully neutral.

I paused. He could scram out of the kingdom for all I care

“And Elder Gaius?” I asked, already half-knowing the answer.

“He left a message for you,” Lucas replied with another nod.

Of course he did. He always did.

I offered no more questions, only a tilt of my head and a murmur of thanks as I moved through the grand double doors. The marble floor of the main hall gleamed beneath my heels. The chandeliers above me sparkled with a cruel sort of cheerfulness, as if mocking the storm clouding my thoughts.

I made my way toward the study, each step echoing like a heartbeat in the hollow hush of the castle. My hand hesitated on the door handle for the briefest moment, then I opened it.My eyes scans the study briefly before resting on the white single envelope lying innocently on the pile of letters on the desk, it bore Gaius’s seal. I stared at it, my breath catching just slightly.

Like a lion poised over its prey, I waited—savoring the moment before the pounce. Because after this, there would be no turning back. I just hope that whatever is underneath that layer is my weapon for war

Let the games begin.