Chapter 2 - Hidden Feelings

The crowds stood in awe as the gathering's star walked down the staircase, her grandly decorated silver locks neatly flowing at one side of her shoulder. Her vibrant purple ball gown follows her every movement with grace, making it look like an inverted flower dancing with the wind.

As any celebrant is expected to do, she greets every guest in a cheerful yet sophisticated manner.

Lucille is well-known not only for her unique beauty but also for her perfect ladylike character, the epitome of an ideal noblewoman. She excels at playing the piano, dancing, academics, horseback riding, and painting and is knowledgeable in various areas.

Despite the entire kingdom's awareness of her engagement to the crown prince, a notable number of men still manage to try wooing her. However, Lucille has always been reminded of her betrothal status, which she never objected to. Her father's quick dismissal of those proposals saves her from the need to do so anyway. After all, his ultimate goal is for her to acquire a royal residency; anyone else is of no value.

"I heard the crown prince is coming; where is he?"

Nevertheless, her only recognized flaw lies in something out of her control:

The prince himself.

"His messenger said there's a sudden matter he must tend to," Lucille said, remaining calm despite knowing where the conversation would lead— as it always does.

"Oh, that's a shame."

The guest's dismay lacks sympathy; rather, anyone could perceive it as an insult.

An insult she has always endured.

'The neglected fiancé of the crown prince' is one of the many titles they have bestowed upon her. Unfortunately, there is nothing she can do unless the faceless prince proves them wrong.

"I'll get going; please enjoy the party."

"Perhaps he's abandoned her."

"Rumors say the prince has never shown up in any of their meetings."

"Poor girl. She should just cut their engagement off; obviously, the prince himself cannot do it due to her father's influence."

She placed a hand on her pounding chest as she walked away.

***

Exhausted from a long journey by foot, George was about to reach for the water bottle inside his satchel when the Prince asked, "Is this really the place?"

Between his shallow breaths, he answered, "Here's where the mark points to. Unless the informant has made a mistake."

The prince's physical endurance is no joke, he thought. His body is obviously more muscular than his, and his stamina is far superior to the humble retainer's.

Although he has no direct competitor for the throne, George witnessed how hardworking his prince has always been. And now, this business with the Duke is the only thing to blame for his consistent restlessness and frustration.

No matter which part of the kingdom you ask, there's no one who could say anything against the Duke. Whether it's his power and authority that hinder them from doing so, or there really is nothing to preach about, Eros is determined that he is the worst criminal out there.

Ever since 'that night'. 

"Or he's not to be trusted," Eros commented.

"Or... the duke expected you to be here instead of attending his daughter's party?"

The night is almost at its peak, and that remote and deserted place is far beyond the kingdom walls.

"That could be a possibility. Take a look at this."

George turned around and followed as Eros sat on his knee.

"Carriage. They were here. There could be evidence around."

"They occupied a little space; it must've been easy to clean up such territory. Let's go back; I'll go wish my fiancée a happy birthday."

***

The night has fallen deep; the prince could have arrived at this hour, but she could not care less anymore.

Lucille stared blankly at the sky. The cold evening breeze wrapped her shoulders down to her fingertips, as she had nothing else to cover them. Despite the physical discomfort, so many things keep her distracted, yet she feels empty inside.

Her parents raised her to be the perfect bride for the crown prince. She has always been reminded to maintain a good reputation and never stain it.

At first, she felt only the sweetness of being engaged to him; he would send her gifts and exchange letters with her. Although that went on consistently until recently, she realized that it was worse than being totally abandoned by him.

He would tell her how much he looked forward to their set dates but would never show up, then apologize through gifts and letters, then repeat the same cycle.

It occurred to her that perhaps she should not seek romance in such a setup and focus on keeping their relationship steady. However, she could not help but worry that he might not show up at their wedding as well.

That thought alone scares her.

"Emily?"

Lucille stood and turned sideways, looking for the source of that voice.

It is undoubtedly a man's, it's deep, and it feels like it's spoken directly to her ears.

"Who's there?" 

"Emily..."

Her vision caught the figure of a person covered in a pitch-black cloak. But before she could move an inch, it swiftly disappeared, and the next thing she knew, he'd already caught her in a tight embrace.

"Emily, I've been searching everywhere for you. Let's go home now."

It took her a while to realize what was actually going on, and she immediately pushed the man away.

"Excuse me, mister, you might have mistaken me for someone else. My name is Lucille, and I live in this place."

She started to panic, but she could not find a way to run away or even take a step back, for she never knew what he might do next.

The man spoke, and it seems his emotions have subsided already this time. "Alright. This might be a huge shock to you, so would you give me a little more time to explain everything calmly?"

Lucille could not respond at all.

"... or I'll make a scene."

Her heart skipped a beat.

"Come with me."

***

"Is that the prince?"

The crowd, despite their unfamiliarity, was quick to recognize the prince based solely on his presence, attire, and distinctive appearance.

Eros walked through the aisle, paying no heed to the mumbling crowds and keeping his eyes glued only to him.

As the prince walks towards him, the Duke grins from ear to ear. At last, no one would doubt his daughter's engagement to him anymore, he thought.

"Greetings, your highness— or should I say, my soon-to-be son-in-law. I hope the party is to your liking," the cunning Duke greeted.

"A pleasant evening, Duke Matthews. Apologies for showing up late; I hope the lady doesn't mind." Eros was quick to realize that the lady was not around at all as his gaze moved from place to place.

"Oh, I'm sure she'll appreciate your presence."

"That's good to hear. Where is she, anyway? If not for my complicated circumstances, I would've visited her myself."

It's a lie. The Duke himself realizes it.

"How considerate of you, your highness. My daughter herself is longing to meet you personally. She just went out for some air. Should I call her in?"

"Leave it to me, Duke Matthews. I shall go look for her myself."

Eros had never had a proper conversation with him before. Indeed, he has quite an intimidating presence, as he admits.

The tension between them has grown strong; the Duke himself suspects that the Prince is investigating him, as he is, by nature, a cautious man. On the other side, Eros holds his own grudges, and he does not meet his enemy every day like this.

"Is that really fine with his highness?"

"Of course. Anything for my lovely fiancé."

George almost expelled the punch he was drinking at that remark.

"In that case, she went that way. That leads to the maze garden."

"You have my gratitude, Duke."

***

The prince does not actually plan to face her but is confident that she won't even recognize him, so he followed her. He intends only to watch her from afar, like he always does.

That lady whose smile shines brighter than any magical explosion would — not even her exceptional piano, painting, horseback riding, academic excellence, or graceful dancing were enough to entice him.

She already did, but there's still something else.

Her heart — her heart that he's able to sneak into through her letters

Perhaps, at this point, the lady has already grown tired of his attempts to charm her with words. Or possibly think that he has someone else ghostwrite for him, but the real thing is — that's the only way for him to loosen up and be true to himself.

At the end of the day, he would still track her carriage and follow her until she was safely back home.

Indulging in those beautiful images of her in his mind ended dreadfully, as reality itself broke him.

Behind the fountain in the middle of the maze was the woman his heart had been seeking, in the arms of a mysterious man covered in cloak. His height and muscular arms were enough to convince him of his masculinity.

In between his fury and disbelief, he muttered:

"What a sight to see."

***