Chapter 5
747 Words
A weak, trembling voice floated from the pond's edge. Clarice's, of course.
He shot her one last searing glare, his tone dripping with exhaustion and frost.
"Stop this nonsense. I do not have time for your dramatics."
Before turning away, he delivered his final blow.
"You had better hope Clarice is unharmed."
Watching Alistair's retreating figure, Josephine felt as though he had plunged a dagger into her chest. Ice flooded her veins, spreading agony through every limb.
Later, she discovered Clarice had been pulled from the water immediately, completely unharmed. Yet the girl still lounged on her sofa, putting on a show of weakness.
Alistair actually summoned her, his voice leaving no room for argument.
"Josephine, pushing someone into the pond is beneath you. Apologize to Clarice, and this ends here."
Standing in that opulent warmth, the last flicker of heat in Josephine's heart died.
Her eyes raked over Clarice, her lips curling into a sneer.
"Why? For some nobody with no title? As a noble consort, I will discipline whoever deserves it."
"She is the Crown Prince's Palace's honored guest," Alistair snapped, his eyes blazing with disappointment. "Did my indulgence make you forget your station? What if I demand your apology today?"
Spotting the triumphant gleam in Clarice's eyes, Josephine let out a hollow laugh.
Her nails bit into her palms hard enough to draw blood. When she lifted her gaze, it was flat as a stagnant pool.
"If Your Highness wants her, take her into your household properly. Do not hide behind this honored guest charade to humiliate me. I will kneel to her over my corpse, or with a decree of separation in my hand."
"Treasonous words." Alistair's voice cracked like a whip. "Clarice aims to serve the court. How dare you smear her? Today, you will apologize."
With a jerk of his hand, maids dragged her into the courtyard. Snow lashed at her, burying her in white within seconds.
Alistair stood under the covered walkway, his voice colder than the storm.
"You fear the cold, do you not? You will stay out here until you admit your fault."
A physician rushed forward.
"Your Highness, think again. The consort's health."
But Alistair brushed past him without a glance.
The blizzard ripped through her, her slight body shaking violently, her lashes crusted with ice. Yet her spine never bent.
A guard whispered,
"Just give in, my lady. It is not worth your life. The palace was never meant to have just one flower."
Josephine said nothing.
It hit her then, the absurdity of it all. They thought this was about jealousy.
But she had never fought for fleeting favor.
Only this remained. If even promises made when they had nothing, oaths sworn side by side, could be lies, what in this world was real?
She did not know how long she knelt before collapsing into the snow.
As darkness swallowed her, a vision flickered. If she had not stayed out of pity years ago, with her talents, she could have been long gone, living wild and untethered.
When she woke, Alistair hovered over her bed, his face unreadable.
His eyes brimming with tenderness, he pulled her close and sighed.
"I was wrong. You are as stubborn as ever. Let us stop fighting. It only hurts us both."
Yet this time, his embrace could not melt the ice around her heart.
Alistair suddenly shuddered and barked at the servants.
"Why is it freezing in here? Where are the fires? How dare you slack off like this."
A maid dropped to her knees with a muffled thump, her voice trembling.
"Y-Your Highness, you ordered it yourself. You said Madam Josephine's expenses were too lavish."
His face went rigid before exploding in rage.
"Ridiculous. Get the fires lit immediately. I have been overworked. Clearly, I was not thinking straight."
His fingertips grazed her forehead as he said quietly,
"When Clarice fell in last time, the guards fished her out. Now rumors are ruining her good name. She has been crying constantly lately. I cannot stand it. I thought making her a wife might silence the gossip."
Every word stabbed her barely healed heart like an icy needle.
So his rare tenderness, this moment of comfort, was all just a setup. A prelude to his cruelty.
A sob lodged in her throat, but she held onto her pride with everything she had as she met his gaze.
"Your Highness, is this an order, or are you just informing me?"
- Writer
