Chapter 7
685 Words
Josephine's words cut through the air like shards of ice.
"Did she not swear to apologize if she wronged me? Did she not preach equality for all? Then by her own sacred doctrine, a life for a life."
The hall froze in breathless silence, so thick you could choke on it.
Alistair's smile vanished as if slapped away, replaced by thunderous outrage.
"Are you out of your damned mind? Clarice acted in the heat of the moment. That lowborn nobody was not worth—"
"Your Highness." Josephine's voice, soft as silk yet hard as steel, sliced through his tirade. "Did her hand tremble even slightly when she drew that sword? Had it been me kneeling there with steel through my heart, would you still call it momentary passion?"
Her gaze burned.
"If justice is her creed, let her taste its blade. Or does this equality only flow when she is looking down from her lofty perch?"
"Josephine." The Crown Prince's bellow shook the chamber. "Do not push your luck. Out of lingering affection, I have indulged your insolence. How dare you."
She raised a hand, cutting him off mid-rant.
"If Your Highness finds this unjust, pretend these words were never spoken."
Without sparing a glance at his purple-faced rage, she turned away.
Behind her, his honeyed whispers soothed Clarice.
"You think I would let her lay a finger on you? Just political niceties. You, who always put me first—this time Josephine went too far."
Later that night.
On her birthday, Alistair surprised her with an invitation beyond the palace walls.
"You have always hated these gilded cages," he murmured. "Tonight is the lantern festival. Let us wander the city streets together."
Josephine nodded silently. Months trapped behind vermillion walls made even fleeting freedom sweet.
As lanterns bloomed along the bustling avenue, he played at being a commoner's doting husband. When her eyes lingered at a hairpin stall, coins clinked before she could protest.
"Save your silver, Your Highness." She stepped away from the offered bauble. "Such trinkets lost their charm long ago."
His thumb grazed her lower lip, a spark of heat that left her gasping.
"What I give, you will keep." His voice dropped to a velvet murmur. "Call me Alistair tonight, like before. Yes, Josephine?"
In his eyes, reflections of countless lanterns danced. The same boy who had once clutched her sleeve beneath starry skies.
The sky chose that second to erupt. The boom and c***k of fireworks split the air as bursts of light blossomed overhead, her heart pounding in time with each burst.
"Alright," she breathed, ducking her head to hide the flush creeping up her neck.
"Alistair, look."
Shoulder to shoulder in the lantern glow, they were just Alistair and Josephine again, if only for tonight.
Back then, he had not yet become Crown Prince, nor had he met that otherworldly soul who turned his world upside down.
In the past, he would start preparing gifts months in advance for her birthday.
During the hardest times, he would come home filthy after working as a groom for other noblemen, yet still clutch that dust-streaked velvet box with eyes gleaming with excitement.
"Look, Josephine. Do you like the gift I brought you?"
Was that not his heart laid bare, burning with sincerity?
Could power really change a person so completely?
As fireworks burst and faded overhead, Josephine let her gaze linger on his profile.
'If only they could return to how things were.'
But she knew the cracks between them went too deep to repair.
"Why so sad, Josephine?" He suddenly turned, catching her gaze.
When she shook her head, he insisted on checking her over, only relaxing after confirming she was unharmed.
"You must tell me if anything is troubling you."
"Even if my status has changed, I will always be your Alistair. From now on, no more quarrels between us, alright?"
Before his words had even faded, Clarice swept in with a rustle of silks, carrying an ornate jewelry case.
"Madam Josephine, many happy returns. I was young and foolish. Please be generous with your forgiveness."
- Writer
