Chapter 2 The Royal Assistant?
1059 Words
As memories of the past flooded her mind, Isabelle couldn't help but soften despite the pain she had endured when she was forced to leave William.
After all, she had been the one to abandon him. With a sigh, she relented, "As long as you behave from now on, I'll pretend nothing happened back there."
William's lips curled into an enigmatic smile. "Should I be thanking you for that?"
After Isabelle had left him three years ago, William had been a broken man, a shadow of himself wandering through life without purpose. The memories of their once-perfect moments together had become knives, carving into his heart again and again.
He resented her for her betrayal, for her cruelty. Yet, his love for her burned stronger. No matter how much he hated her, he couldn't let her go.
Sleepless nights led him to a decision: he would return home, determined to reclaim everything that had been stolen from him—his pride, his position, and Winsor.
Fate, however, had conspired to bring them back together unexpectedly.
This time, he would not let her escape.
William turned toward her, his tone laced with teasing sarcasm. "Dressed like this, were you hoping to seduce the new head of the royal family?"
His words struck a nerve, and Isabelle flushed with shame and anger.
Seeing her at a loss for words, William's expression briefly stiffened, jealousy flickering in his gaze. But within moments, his lips curled into another ambiguous smile. "I happen to have strong ties with the royal family. Perhaps I could offer you some advice?"
'So, he still has connections to the royal family.'
Isabelle's mind raced with thoughts as her face flushed crimson from William's mocking tone. 'Is this how he sees her? A shameless woman willing to do anything to get ahead?'
William, observing her inner turmoil, said nothing.
Just then, footsteps echoed outside the elevator. Moments later, the doors slid open, and the workers outside froze upon seeing William. Their expressions shifted instantly to deference. "Good day, sir."
With a curt nod, William stepped out. His eyes lingered on
Isabelle for a moment before he turned and walked away.
Isabelle's emotions were in a tangle. The tension in the elevator had rattled her so thoroughly that she couldn't bear to enter another confined space. Instead, she pushed open the emergency exit and began climbing the narrow stairwell.
The metallic clink of her high heels against the steps echoed sharply in the silent staircase. She gathered her skirt as she ascended, each step feeling heavier than the last.
The top floor was the private domain of the king and the crown prince, secured like a fortress.
The climb was grueling. Her long dress hindered her movements, and her breathing became labored.
Just as she was about to give up, familiar footsteps approached from above.
She looked up and froze. There he was—William—descending the stairs as if the tense scene in the elevator had never occurred. His expression was calm, almost indifferent.
Without thinking, she called out, "William!"
He stopped and looked down at her, his tone sharp with mockery. "What's wrong? Did you really want my advice on how to seduce the Crown Prince?" His gaze raked over her, and his voice turned colder. "Give it up. The Crown Prince has no interest in someone like you."
Isabelle's lips parted, but no words came out. After a long pause, she managed to stammer, "Why are you here? Tell me, what are you doing in the royal family?"
"That's a question the old king might answer better than I could." His voice was detached, refusing to satisfy her curiosity as he resumed climbing.
Isabelle followed close behind, desperation creeping into her voice. "The old king? What's your connection to him?"
William ignored her completely, his footsteps steady as he ascended.
Her heart raced with questions. Why had he returned? What was his role in the royal family? Why hadn't she known?
"William!" she pressed, nearly running after him now.
"When did you come back? Why? What are you doing here? Say something!" Her words fell into the void, unanswered.
Finally, they reached the top floor. She looked around, but William had already disappeared.
Standing in the dimly lit stairwell, Isabelle tried to steady her breathing and calm the storm in her chest.
What did it matter that they had crossed paths again?
In his eyes, she was nothing more than a traitor, a woman who had stabbed him in the heart. And now, she was about to betray herself again—for her family, for her mother's keepsakes. There was no way out.
Isabelle let out a bitter laugh. Just like three years ago, she had no choice but to submit.
Shaking her head, she straightened her back and walked purposefully toward the Crown Prince's office.
*****
At the office door.
"Your Highness, you cannot go in." The palace guard's tone was respectful but firm.
"I am the princess. I need to speak with the Crown Prince," Winsor insisted.
"Without an appointment, no one may disturb His Highness." The guard repeated the words like a script, his expression unyielding.
"Then how do I arrange to see him?" she asked, her frustration mounting.
"Please speak with His Highness's assistant," the guard said, gesturing toward a door at the end of the hallway.
Isabelle had no other option. Taking a deep breath, she turned and walked toward the indicated door, her heels clicking against the polished floor.
The long corridor was lined with portraits depicting the royal family's proud history. Isabelle scanned them for anything useful, but there wasn't even an image of the Crown Prince.
At last, she reached the door. A plaque read: Private Assistant to His Royal Highness the Crown Prince.
She knocked softly.
"Come in," a deep, familiar voice called.
Isabelle pushed the door open and froze.
Sitting behind the desk, perfectly composed, was William.
Her mind blanked.
"Princess Isabelle, how may I help you?" he asked, his tone professional, his gaze calm and detached.
Isabelle took a deep breath, struggling to compose herself. "I... I..."
William's lips curved into a faint, sarcastic smile. "Ah, that's right. You're here to see the Crown Prince. Unfortunately, he's unavailable. For now, you'll have to settle for me, his assistant."
'Assistant?'
'William... is the Crown Prince's assistant?'
- Writer
