Verinia tested the binds on her wrists. They were made of the strongest twine rope and were tightly wrapped, immobilising her hands. When she tried to tug at her legs, the same thing happened.
Her facial expression became extremely dark. Verinia looked up at the ceiling of the room she was in and sulked.
Of all the rotten, unlucky things, it had to be this.
The bedroom door squeaked open and heavy footsteps sounded in the room. A moment later, the body of a man appeared in her line of sight.
Prince Staljen was standing at the foot of the bed, staring at her with a careful expression. He looked like he was seriously thinking about something instead of actually seeing her.
The First Princess did not say a word and lay there like a dead person. She didn't even try to move anymore.
"As your future husband, I would be kind to you," Prince Staljen said. "I apologise that you have been forced into this state."
He apologised?
