Back in the ballroom
Raymond's anxiousness grew. It had already been forty-five minutes since he last spoke to Ariel—and she still hadn't returned to the party.
His eyes kept on darting to the stairs and he sighed as he still saw no sign of her.
'Did she get caught? No. No. Ariel's smarter than that. If something went wrong, she'd alert me immediately. Maybe she just got cornered by some noble ladies… or a cocky gentleman trying to flirt with her. Yes, that has to be it', he thought, eyes fixed on the staircase, downing another glass of wine.
It has already been five glasses now. Good thing the wine wasn't strong—otherwise he'd be drunk by now.
His stomach dropped as he spotted royal guards marching up the stairs. Another guard leaned in to whisper something to the head of security stationed near the royal family.
Moments later, the head of security approached the King and whispered in his ear.
Raymond didn't miss the flicker of irritation that crossed the King's face.
'Shit. This is bad. This is really bad. Where the hell are you, Ariel?'
Then the King rose from his seat and strode toward the podium.
The room fell into silence. All eyes turned to him.
"Ladies and gentlemen," the King began, his voice steady but strained. "It is my greatest pleasure to have you grace this momentous occasion tonight. I am extremely grateful that all of you came in support of my…" He paused, the word catching in his throat as if it was difficult to say. "…son."
"The Crown Prince's victory in the royal hunting derby, and the commencement of his bridal selection season. It is my greatest wish that he will choose a crown princess who is wise, graceful, strong, and dignified—fit to be the future queen and mother of our beloved kingdom. And that he will rule with strength, valor, dignity, and integrity, keeping the needs of our people close to heart. May the Heavens bless him and guide him in the days to come, so that he may choose a partner worthy to rule this kingdom. I thank you."
Applause erupted as the King stepped down from the podium.
The royal family rose from their thrones and began descending from the upper floor, making their way out of the ballroom as the applause continued.
"Now, ladies and gentlemen," the master of ceremonies announced, "unfortunately, that concludes our evening. I hope you had a wonderful time. We eagerly await the upcoming royal bride selection season and the reveal of our future queen. A reminder to all noble families within the designated ranks of our kingdom: please register the names of your daughters who will be participating. As always, only families within the first four ranks of the monarchy are required to participate, alongside select royal houses from outside the kingdom…"
His voice faded into the background as Raymond slipped through the crowd, weaving toward the staircase on the far side of the ballroom. He needed to find Ariel.
But to his dismay, the entire upper floor was now swarming with royal guards.
He sighed, then approached them. That floor led to the restrooms—maybe they'd let him pass.
"Stop!" a voice barked behind him just as he stepped forward.
Raymond turned, face composed. "Is there a problem? I'm trying to reach the restrooms. They're on this floor, aren't they?"
"Yes, Sir. But I'm afraid you'll need to use the ones on the ground floor, in the hallway outside. This level is now off-limits."
Raymond raised an eyebrow. "Off-limits? Why?"
"I'm sorry, Sir. I'm not authorized to disclose further details. The event is over, and certain areas become restricted once the royal family departs. I hope you understand. Please return to the ground floor."
Raymond considered pressing for more information, but the other guards were already watching him closely. He let it go.
"Alright. I understand."
"Thank you." The guard stepped aside, allowing Raymond to descend the stairs.
As he did, a flicker of movement caught his eye—a figure in pink, with black wavy hair, gesturing to him from the doorway before slipping out of sight.
Raymond exhaled in relief.
He quickened his pace, descended the final steps, and headed straight for the door—exiting the room without looking back.
Raymond spotted the figure and quickly reached out, grabbing their arm just as they exited the building.
"What took you so long? I was starting to worry something had happened," he whispered.
Ariel sighed, whispering back. "Don't worry. Nothing bad happened. It just took me a while to navigate back to the restroom. I don't know why, but the whole place started filling with guards. It took some… calculated maneuvering to get through."
At the door, they were stopped by security guards for a final check—more thorough than usual.
Raymond frowned. "Is there a problem? What's with the intense search?"
Ariel's heart skipped. 'Please don't say anything. Please don't give it away'.
"Apologies, Sir. Just protocol," one of the guards replied. "You'll be free to go in just a moment."
Ariel released a silent breath of relief.
Soon enough, they were released and made their way to the waiting car.
The driver opened the back door of the lavish limousine, and they slipped inside.
"I'm glad you're okay," Raymond said quietly.
Ariel only hummed in response, her gaze fixed on the palace outside.
Raymond sighed. "The Queen Dowager wants to see you. We'll be returning to the palace in a few days. That'll be the perfect time to execute our plan—leave the footage of the illicit relationship in the palace. It'll give us leverage for you to enter the selection."
Ariel didn't respond. Her eyes kept darting back to the palace, nerves fraying at the edges. She hadn't heard a word he said. Her mind was still tangled in the storm she'd just unleashed.
Raymond noticed her distraction but chose not to press. He simply instructed the driver to move.
Ariel exhaled a low breath of relief as the limousine pulled out of the driveway and merged onto the highway, away from the palace.
She turned to the side mirror, watching the reflection in the window as the palace loomed farther and farther behind them.
'I hope I won't see him again. If I do… I'm finished. For sure this time.'
....
Meanwhile…
Wack!
"You stupid senseless bitch!!"
Leticia crumpled to the floor, clutching her cheek, already swollen from the blow.
Aaron loomed over her like a raging bull, fury radiating from every inch of him.
They were inside their lavish bedroom at the Sinclair mansion, nestled in the heart of the Capital Kingdom—the Iron Fortress. Gold and blue furniture shimmered under the moonlight spilling through the windows, casting a regal glow across the room. But in this moment, nothing felt regal. Nothing felt safe.
"I told you not to mess things up, didn't I?" Aaron growled, stepping toward her with a predator's intent.
"This was our chance—our one chance to seize the prize. And you… you reckless, foolish whore, ruined everything!"
Leticia gasped, voice trembling. "It wasn't my fault! That bitch provoked me—that woman riled me up and I lost control!"
"Shut up!"
Wack. Wack.
Aaron's fury exploded again, his voice echoing through the room as Leticia recoiled from two more strikes.
Leticia whimpered, her fingers trembling as they brushed against her swollen cheeks. Tears streamed down her face, pooling on the cold floor beneath her.
Aaron grabbed her by the hair, yanking her head back.
"This… is exactly what you get for being useless to me."
He crouched to her level, his voice low and venomous.
"You'd better fix this mess. Otherwise…" He traced her bruised face with mock tenderness. "It'll take more than a beauty specialist to fix what I'll break next. So don't cross me or mess up our plans again. Got it, baby?"
Then he crushed his lips against hers in a harsh, possessive kiss before releasing her and walking out—leaving her heaving, trembling, and burning with rage.
"Fuck you, Aaron. Fuck you!! AAAAH!!" she screamed, her voice raw and feral, before hurling a porcelain vase at the door with all her strength.
"You're going to regret this! I swear you will! Both you and that bitch! That damn bitch! She'll regret ever crossing my path. I'll make her pay. Oh, she'll pay…"
A gust of wind tore through the room, whipping the curtains violently and brushing Leticia's hair from her face—revealing the bruises etched into her skin. But her eyes… her eyes were bloodshot with fury, glowing with the promise of chaos.
Rumble. Rumble.
As if summoned by her wrath, dark clouds swallowed the sky, covering the moon, enveloping the world in darkness. Lightning cracked in jagged bursts, and rain poured down in violent torrents—drenching the earth in nature's own fury.