Esmeralda stared at the ceiling.
Then at the window.
Then back at the ceiling.
"...This is unfortunate," she muttered.
Belle, standing nearby, crossed her arms. "You say that as if it is unexpected."
"It is," Esmeralda insisted. "I had a perfectly valid excuse."
"You had one," Belle corrected. "Past tense."
Esmeralda clicked her tongue.
Illness had been an excellent shield.
Respectable. Untouchable.
Unfortunately—
She had attended the Empress' tea party.
Publicly.
Gracefully.
Without collapsing.
"...I have betrayed myself," she sighed.
Belle nodded. "Completely."
"...Perhaps I can develop a sudden relapse."
"My lady."
"Or faint."
"My lady."
"...Or simply not go."
Belle's stare sharpened. "His Highness has already been informed of your recovery."
Silence.
Esmeralda slowly sat up.
"...That man is persistent."
"Because you keep avoiding him."
"I am not avoiding him," she said.
A pause.
"...I am strategically postponing interaction."
Belle looked unconvinced.
"...You are avoiding him."
"...Details." Esmeralda sighed as she asked for the details of her meeting with Rael.
---------
The palace felt different when she entered this time.
Not unfamiliar—
Just... inevitable.
And there he was.
Of course.
Rael stood near the window, as if he had always been there, waiting.
His gaze shifted the moment she stepped in.
Locked.
Sharp.
"...You're well enough to attend now," he said.
No greeting.
Straight to the point.
Esmeralda offered a polite smile. "Your concern is touching, Your Highness."
"That wasn't concern."
"Even more touching."
A flicker of amusement crossed his expression.
"...You avoided me."
"I was unwell."
"You attended the Empress' tea party."
"...I recovered miraculously."
"How convenient."
"I thought so too."
Silence lingered.
Then—
Rael stepped forward.
Slow.
Measured.
Too close.
Esmeralda instinctively took a step back.
He followed.
"...Your Highness," she said carefully, "you're invading my personal space."
"And you're avoiding the conversation."
"I prefer distance."
"I prefer answers."
"...We both have preferences."
Another step.
Her back met the wall.
Ah.
Unfortunate.
Very unfortunate.
"...Cornering a lady is hardly proper conduct," she muttered.
"And evading your fiancé is?"
She froze—just for a fraction of a second.
"...You noticed."
"I notice everything," he replied.
Of course he did.
Annoying.
He was close now.
Too close.
Close enough that she could see every detail of his face—
The sharpness of his gaze.
The curve of his lips.
The way his expression shifted, just slightly, when he was amused.
This is the problem. This is why I do not want to see his face. When I said we'd break off the engagement, I told him I didn't like his face but truthfully, it's totally my type. BUT I AM NOT WILLING TO RISK MY PERFECT LIFE FOR THAT MERE FACE, she thought.
It had always been his face.
And now—
He knew it.
"...You're doing this on purpose," she accused quietly.
"Doing what?"
"This," she gestured vaguely. "Standing too close. Looking like that."
"Looking like what?"
"...Like that."
He leaned in slightly.
"Be specific."
Her breath caught.
"...You're insufferable."
"And you're blushing."
"I am not—!"
She stopped.
Because she absolutely was.
Heat rushed to her cheeks, betraying her immediately.
Rael's lips curved.
"...Interesting."
"...This is manipulation," she said quickly.
"Is it?"
"Yes," she insisted. "You're using your face to your advantage."
A pause.
Then—
"...My face?"
"Yes."
"...That's your complaint?"
"It's a valid one."
A quiet laugh escaped him.
Soft.
Dangerous.
"And here I thought you were immune."
"I was," she said.
"Was?"
"...I mean—I am."
"You're not convincing."
"I don't need to convince you."
"Then who?"
"...Myself."
That slipped out before she could stop it.
Silence followed.
Then—
Rael leaned in just a fraction closer.
Enough to make her breath hitch again.
"...That sounds like a losing battle," he murmured.
Her heart betrayed her completely.
Fast.
Unsteady.
Annoyingly loud.
"...You're enjoying this," she accused.
"I am," he admitted easily.
Of course he was.
Of course.
"...You're cruel."
"And you're still here."
"...I'm trapped."
"Are you?"
"...Yes."
A pause.
Then—
"...Good."
Her eyes widened.
"...That wasn't supposed to be reassuring."
"It wasn't."
"...Then what was it?"
Rael smiled faintly.
"...Honest."
Silence fell between them again.
But this time—
It wasn't sharp.
It wasn't tense.
It was... something else.
Something quieter.
Something dangerous.
Esmeralda exhaled slowly, forcing herself to look away.
"...You really are a problem."
"And yet," he said softly, stepping back just slightly—just enough to give her space again, "you stopped avoiding me."
She frowned.
"...That's because I ran out of excuses."
"Is that all?"
"...Yes."
He studied her.
Longer than necessary.
As if trying to decide whether that was true.
Then—
"...We'll see."
Esmeralda turned away, crossing her arms.
"...We will."
But even as she said it—
Her heart hadn't calmed.
And, as if he was done teasing her—
He moved away from her completely and his gaze changed from being playful to being serious.
"The reason I've been asking to meet with you is because of your abductors."
Esmeralda's brows furrowed.
She found his statement confusing since she thought the abduction was merely a coincidence.
"Follow me."
Rael said walking out the room with Esmeralda following behind him.
Esmeralda felt nervous—
This wasn't in the book she read. She was a villainess, true, but she did not harm anyone aside from the heroine in the book. This made her feel a sense of discomfort.
Not knowing what would happen next.
Or how the story will now unfold.