Hien lost her balance completely.
The carpeted ground whooshed towards her rapidly.
She closed her eyes, bracing herself from the agony from the rough impact. Suddenly, she felt strong arms gripping her waist, righting her immediately. Her world snapped into an upright position suddenly.
Dizzy from the sudden change of position, she slammed her nose against a compact wall of muscles. Tears sprang in her eyes from the pain of the collision. She barely took note a soothing forest scent drifting into her nose. Absently, she placed her hands on that wall of muscles, supporting herself idly.
"Are you alright?" Emmanuel's voice was laced with worry, placing a hand on her back to comfort her.
Hien lifted her head to stare into his concerned gaze, her hand absently rubbing the bridge of her button nose. Her heart raced when their gaze collided: it was the gentleness in his eyes, that flicker of argent in that boundless china blue eyes that reeled her in and captivated her. His eyelids were hooded, lush eyelashes framing his orbs. Her heart raced. She did not expect such tenderness from an overbearing and brooding man.
Someone placed her hand on her waist familiarly. "Hienie, are you alright?" Susie peered at her worriedly.
She broke the stare, blinking owlishly. Immediately, she dropped her gaze to her feet.
Then, the youngest singer became aware of him, fully aware of the way they were holding each other as if they were lovers. His arm was wrapped around her small waist protectively and boldly, their hips pressing closely to each other. She was entwined with him, one of her hand splayed on his firm chest intimately.
Blood rushed to the apples of Hien's cheeks. She was certain that her cheeks must be so red that they could even see her blush in the dark. Hien leapt away from him when she realised that she was far too bold.
"Easy," cautioned Emmanuel, applying pressure on her hip to steady her, worried that she might trip and fall once again.
A wince crossed Hien's face when she tried to apply pressure on her right foot.
"I've got you," soothed Emmanuel, his grip tightening to steady her. "Don't worry." His croon was gentle as if he were speaking to a young child.
Hien flinched.
Immediately, Emmanuel withdrew his hand sharply as if he was burnt. He frowned as his hand hung in mid-air, helpless. Ignoring the sting of rejection, he dropped that hand to his side while balling them into fists. He backed away from her until there was a respectable distance between them.
Mentally backpedaling on his behaviour, he wanted to chide himself for being too forward. What was wrong with him? They barely knew each other. Yes, she might be his childhood idol, but he barely know her.
Emmanuel placed the empty glass on a table, trying to organise his thoughts. That sweet and intoxicating fragrance of her evoked a desire for him to press his sharp nose close to her skin and inhale deeply. He rested both hands on the table, steadying himself. He had to admit that he was hurt by her. His jaws clenched painfully.
He righted himself, wearing an impassive mask.
The members of Asteroid put their arms around Hien worriedly, checking on her wellbeing. The injured singer was trying to calm her frantic members down, smiled awkwardly. She had injured herself in the fall. Her right ankle hurt.
Despite the sting of rejection , Emmanuel could not fight the need to be worried about her welfare. He ought to take responsibility of her welfare since she was here in this pub as his guest. His gaze returned to her, falling on her right foot when he detected her discomfort.
"Uh. Thanks, El." She stole an embarrassed glance of the stoic prince who had aid her automatically. It was humiliating to fall in public, especially in front of individuals that carried themselves with an air of elegance. She studied his gloomy countenance, noting his blank expression. She placed her hand on her chest, feeling her heart pounding loudly. When the brooding prince looked at her kindly, she was flabbergasted by the rise of a desire to go to him.
Suddenly, the prince dropped to a knee, scowling fiercely.
Hien's heart pounded so loudly that she was certain that everyone could hear her. The prince looked like he was dropping on a knee to propose to her!
"Don't move," warned Emmanuel softly, a hint of command entering his low tone. He reached for her right foot suddenly, slipping her feet carefully out from her footwear. It looked like he was afraid of hurting her again.
"Your Highness—" Two men approached them warily, warning in their tone. They reminded him of his station in his life which was a prince, so he was not permitted to perform such mundane tasks in public because it was an offence to his prestige.
His squared jaws clenched and unclenched. She could see the vein on the side of his cheek tick.
Emmanuel slid his blank glance up to meet her eyes hesitantly, before lifting the high heels up for their inspection. It was clear that the thin white heel had snapped in halves.
The members of Asteroid relaxed,
His eyes returned to her ankle musingly, gently nursing her injured foot. "It looks swollen," pronounced Emmanuel, frowning. He rose to his feet lithely, eying her intently. "I think we should help her to a seat."
"That's a good idea—"
Nimbly, Emmanuel scooped her into his arms, catching he youngest singer by surprise. She yelped as she cradled snuggly into his firm chest, her eyes wide. Her head whipped upwards to gape at him.
"Sir…"
"Your Highness…"
"Ice," ordered Emmanuel coldly, looking ahead. He ignored the warning looks of his subordinates.
Hien's elfish ears burn with embarrassment. What was El trying to do? Her eyes, mechanically, fell on his handsome face. The young prince looked so grave, his brows slightly contracted, his lips thinned.
Was he angry?
The other members of Asteroid could only accept his lead and follow them to the armchair that he had just vacated. The prince treated her like a priceless treasure, setting Hien in the leather arm chair with so much care that it did not jostle her injured ankle.
"You should be more careful," rebuked Emmanuel quietly, kneeling before her so that her swollen ankle was at his eye-level. His lips thinned. "How are you going to perform if you're injured?"
Hien felt strangely touched by his sullen gesture of concern. She placed a hand on the hem of her dress while he checked her injury. He prodded her ankle gently, watching her face for a reaction.
She winced in pain when he poked the swollen areas. It was starting to turn purple.
His nostril flared.
"Can you wiggle your toes?" questioned the prince clinically.
She did as commanded, sharp pain jolting through her. She swallowed visibly, trying to maintain composure before this stranger.
Tears filled her large doe eyes, in part due to the humiliation and the pain.
Immediately, pity welled in the prince at the sight of her tears. His forehead creased.
With a single hand, Emmanuel unknotted the silky electric-blue tie around his neck, straightening the soft fabric with a hand. He bent over her ankle, creases etched on his forehead as he wrapped that tie around her ankle tightly, supporting her injured ankle.
Her eyes widened when she realised that the imperious prince was attending to her injury personally.
Emmanuel slotted the tie bar over the silky tie holding the makeshift bandage together. Soon, his bodyguard returned with a small bag of ice.
Emmanuel eyed his work appreciatively, satisfied that the makeshift splint will last.
"She needs to go to the hospital. Possible fracture," announced Emmanuel impassively, after performing his examination. Someone handed him a warm cloth to clean his hands. He rubbed his hand absently and returned the used cloth to the waiting waiter.
"OK, I'll get the car," returned the bodyguard, noting how protective Emmanuel was of the elfin singer. The bodyguard was concerned since it did not look like Emmanuel was trying to sleep with the singer, rather he was just genuinely worried about her. That bothered him a great deal since he had rarely seen his superior caring for someone of the opposite gender with no ulterior motives. Maybe, Charles's dressing down worked. Assessing that it was fine to leave the prince with the two other singers, the bodyguard left to fetch the car.
The atmosphere became awkward.
"I'll…" offered the director lamely, scratching his head. He jerked a thumb to the kitchen. "See if there is a first aid kit," mumbled the director under his breath, stowing his hand into his pocket.
"This is going to be uncomfortable," warned Emmanuel, holding her timid gaze for a while. Frowning, he placed the ice carefully on her swollen ankle. Hien jolted at the sudden cold but Emmanuel held her injured ankle firmly so that she could not twist it out of his grip.
Her eyes grew misty as she fought against the pain. Selina immediately held her hand, squeezing it out of support.
Soon, a sense of numbness spread around the area, alleviating the discomfort. She whimpered, staring at him helplessly.
His grip on her foot relaxed, seeing that she was not going to struggle against him. His jaws relaxed so he looked less murderous.
"El, let's us do that," offered Ellen, dropping to the ground next to him. How could they let a man who barely knew her touch her freely? Besides, he was a prince. While they did not know what the decorum of a prince was, from the odd and fearful glances that his subordinates had been shooting him, the singers knew that it was improper for him.
Emmanuel's worried gaze slid to hers, studying her expression closely, before settling on Ellen's determined gaze. He nodded curtly. The prince handed her the bag of ice quietly, rising to his feet again.
The prince dropped into another wingback leather armchair nearby, crossing his long legs.
Wait, Emmanuel was not leaving? Hien stared at him, surprised.
The ominous prince gestured to the server to bring him another glass of his favourite whiskey to settle him down. It had been a strange night so far. This session was supposed to be a brief meet, however, it seemed to escalate beyond the platonic nature. Absently, he rubbed his temples, closing his eyes. He ought to leave instead of offering to take her for treatment. What was he trying to do? His mind drifted to the beautiful woman sitting near him. They were mere strangers. Did he want to scare the poor singer off with his overzealousness and fussing? He could feel a headache coming on, intensified by the alcohol.
The manager of the pub hastily rushed to them, apologising profusely for the accident in the pub.
Emmanuel's gaze was cold, not bothering to reply to him. He ought to be glad that he had not exploded in rage.
The manager offered them a fresh round of drinks besides offering to pick up the hospital bill.
The director was overjoyed to hear that their expenses would be covered by the management of the pub.
"No, it's my fault. I was too clumsy," explained Hien, trying to reject the offer of the anxious manager. She waved her hands helplessly, trying to reject him. She was embarrassed by how guilty the manager was. Several times, the manager glanced at the stoic prince, nursing his fresh crystal glass of whiskey.
The older man trembled he realised that Emmanuel ignored him.
Perspiration beaded on the manager's forehead. He withdrew a handkerchief and wiped his forehead.
Hien waved her hands with greater gusto, seeing that the manager was not prepared to listen to her. Her gaze cut to the apathetic and brooding prince pleadingly, hoping he could persuade the manager instead. She frowned when she realised that the indifferent prince was sipping another glass of whiskey, not paying attention to their animated conversation.
Wait, how many glasses did El had so far? She frowned. Was it healthy of it to consume so much liquor in such a short period of time?
The prince turned to look at her as if sensing her scrutiny. His brows furrowed for a moment before he returned his attention to his choice of poison. Emmanuel tipped his head backwards and finished the glass of whiskey in an elegant swing. He could feel the delicious burn down his throat. Then, he lifted the empty crystal glass into the air, watching how the warm light played with the facets of the crystal intimately. If he stared at it closely, he could catch a glimpse of her on one of the facets of the glass, watching him closely.
There was a careless elegance in the way he sat on the armchair, his long legs crossed.
"There is no need to pick up the hospital bill," intervened Emmanuel, concluding the lively conversation. His eyes were fixed on his empty crystal glass. Somehow, there was a terrifying aura that emanated from the young prince. He placed the empty crystal glass on the table gracefully, his icy gaze cutting to the manager.
"Oh. But Your Highness…"
His stare became lethal.
The older man was silenced immediately, cowered into submission. That man lowered his face immediately, trembling on the spot. The manager adjusted his starched collar, shifting between the balls of his feet.
"His Royal Highness is speaking to you, Manager," prompted one of Emmanuel's man standing at his side. He stepped forward, his hands clasped before him.
"I…I…I understand, Your Royal Highness." He lowered his head in deference for his station.
Emmanuel nodded briskly. He lifted a long finger which was a signal that he wanted another glass of whiskey. The waiter scurried to fetch him a glass of his choice poison, knowing that his tardiness would irritate the gloomy prince further.
While she was uncomfortable with his arrogant display of authority, she knew that she had to be visibly grateful for his meddling. Honestly, she would prefer to accept the manager's goodwill if she had known that Emmanuel would coerce him into seeing her point of view. Pity welled in her as she looked at the manager sympathetically.
The waiter returned with a fresh glass of whiskey. Emmanuel sampled the glass after blowing the fumes of the whiskey away. Nodding idly, he tasted his golden hue drink.
Somehow, watching him drink was a pleasurable experience that sent her heart fluttering. Hien could not decide if it was the thoughtless yet sophisticated way, he began the process of savouring his drink. His sleeve would drop slightly, revealing his pale and smooth wrist, while his long and slim fingers grasped the glass firmly. He would tilt his head back slightly, revealing his prominent bulge on his throat. It was a graceful arch of his neck that seemed so alluring and fascinating to her. The rim of the crystal glass would touch his smooth bottom lip and the golden liquid would slip past his pink and smooth lips into his throat. Hien would follow the path of the liquid into his mouth. His eyes would gleam with satisfaction, a sign that he appreciated the taste.
His bodyguard soon returned and gave Emmanuel the signal that it was time to go. That bodyguard lifted a brow when he detected the palpable tension in the pub. He scanned the surrounding and saw the manager cowering before the prince. James eyed the poor manager, knowing that it was difficult to deal with Emmanuel when he was in that dark and meanancing mood.
The prince finished the glass in another swing and set it on the table.
He turned to look at the director, choosing to reduce the tension in the pub. "You and your crew should stay and enjoy yourselves. We'll send Ms Hien to the closest clinic for her privacy."
"Your Highness—"
Emmanuel put his arms under her knees and around her back, lifting her into his arms smoothly, ending all discussion. Hien squealed and hooked her arms around his neck to steady herself. The skin around his neck felt warm to her touch and she could smell the intoxicating mix of whiskey and his fresh, forest scent on his clothes.
She swallowed visibly, staring into his impassive eyes. Her grip loosened at once. She knew that she could trust him.
"We'll follow," quipped Susie worriedly, eying Emmanuel sceptically. That man had just gulped down four glasses of whiskey in front of them. He seemed so eager to hold her member all the time besides deciding on behalf of her. Irritation rose in her. So what if he was a prince? Her finely-trimmed brows furrowed at the thought that a man was trying to touch her wife inappropriately.
"Of course, you will," acknowledged Emmanuel stiffly, turning to look at the beautiful singer. His shoulders relaxed and he shot her a comforting smile. "I'll send them back to the hotel later," conceded the prince, glancing at the director again. Not waiting for the acknowledgement of the stuffy older man, he walked towards the main entrance, his back straight. It was as if she weighed like a feather from the effortless way, he was carrying her.
The entourage followed swiftly.
She chewed the bottom of her lip, trying to find something to say. "Should I worry about my safety? You drank so much," whispered Hien shyly. The wisp of hair at the back of his head tickled her bare and thin forearm. She was conscious of how she was pressed firmly against his large and powerful body and she could feel his heart pounding. Her cheeks became warm, remembering her manners. She made a move to move away from him. "I could walk…"
Emmanuel stopped, quirking a brow at her challengingly. It was as if he was looking at an idiot.
Her words died in her mouth as she lay still, knowing that it was a stupid idea. "My members can carry me," offered she lamely, meeting his eyes finally. She shifted in his arms. "You know, they have done it several times. There is really no need to trouble you further when you're so busy." She did not realise there was a soft whine in her voice as if she were upset with him. She looked away, breaking that eye contact.
"Yes, El. I am extraordinarily strong. I can piggy-back Hiennie," quipped Jia Hua excitedly, flexing her muscles.
Emmanuel arched a brow, unimpressed. He turned to look at Hien, his lips thinned. "You're injured. What kind of a man would I be if I did not help you? My butler would have my hide," mumbled Emmanuel quietly under his breath. "In any case, I have no ill intentions towards Ms Hien, I can reassure you," bristled Emmanuel finally, staring at the concerned Susie. He barely hid the irritation in his tone, his pride hurt by her assumption.
Hien's cheeks became beetroot red.
The prince swept through the pub imperiously, ignoring the curious gazes on them. James was waiting for them with his black limo. The bouncers lined themselves along the path to the limo, shielding them. Ignoring the singers' gasps, he marched through the line to the car. James opened the door for him politely, allowing him to slide her into the comfortable leather seat without jostling her injured ankle. He gave her a quick glance-over, ensuring that she was fine.
Suddenly, he felt her tugged his sleeve timidly like a young child.
He turned around, quirking a brow.
"El, thanks," muttered Hien softly. She dropped that sleeve as if scorched. Her heart pounding in her chest. She wrung her small hands, her brows knitted. "I'm sorry that Selina assumed that you had ill intentions. I…I never thought that way about you." She shook her head fervently.
"Well, you should because you're very beautiful," said Emmanuel gravelly, however his eyes remained unemotional.
Her slightly pointy ears became hot. Why should she be embarrassed when she told him that too?
"I… Didn't you say that…"
"I did say that I had no ill intentions towards you," agreed Emmanuel, rubbing his rough chin. "It doesn't mean that I won't put the moves on you," explained the prince, smirking arrogantly. He folded his toned arm before his broad chest. "You're, after all, a beautiful woman and I am an attractive man." He closed the distance between them deliberately so that their faces were only inches away from each other.
Instinctively, her heart raced at his closeness. At such a short distance, she could see that he had flawless skin and he was very alluring. Gold flicker in his eyes. His voice dropped into a husky whisper. "I can see that you're very receptive to my advances."
"You… You don't mean that," protested Hien weakly, surprised at his vanity. She took a deep breath, ignoring her irritation with him. She could tell that Emmanuel was merely reacting out of rejection. "I…I… El…" She fought the urge to hide her face behind her hands. "I'm just embarrassed that I fell," finished Hien lamely, twirling her hair absently.
He blinked owlishly at her, surprised at the change of mood.
"Honestly, I didn't mean to push you away. It's just humiliating to fall in public," admitted Hien finally, trying to fill up the silence. "Especially in front of a stranger." Anxious, she lifted her head to glance at him.
That tense lines on the prince's face relaxed. Those impassive eyes softened, its shade reminding her of the calm waters of the stream near her family house. There was a brief flicker of argent in the middle of his eyes that seemed to soften his gaze. That suffocating anxiety relented, releasing its icy grip around her chest. At that moment, she could not help noticing how young and sweetly awkward he was.
Emmanuel raked his hand through his hair idly, shifting his weight to one side of his hip. He could not help feeling touched by her concern. The introvert singer need not comfort him by explaining herself. Besides, Hien was right. Why would she feel comfortable in the arms of a stranger? He opened his mouth to speak but he found himself speechless. His brows creased when he realised that he was a douchebag. He rubbed his bicep with a hand absently. "I…" His dimples deepened as a warm and amused smile stretched across his face. His eyes twinkled. "Thank you, Hien." He placed a hand over his chest, overwhelmed by his gratitude for that one simple act of kindness.
She levelled a curious gaze at him, surprised by the depth of emotions in his tone. She did not think that he was capable of such depths of feeling since he had been at most , faintly amused or the very least, impassive in the pub. Seeing that he was genuinely touched, she mirrored his gentle smile.
This enigma behaved like a porcupine. However, beyond that prickly and arrogant armour lay a tender heart, one capable of gentleness. His brief flicker of kindness was free of shrewdness and lust, an honest, down-to-earth desire to care for her and protect her like the chivalrous knights of the old.
"Sir An," whispered Fuzhen to herself, smiling. That nickname would fit him perfectly. Her regard for him grew when she realised that he tried to care for her despite being so upset with her.
"Did you say something, Hien?"
She shook her head, maintaining that affectionate smile.
Emmanuel grew uncomfortable with that fierce glow in her eyes: she looked at him with so much respect that it sent shivers down his spine. The prince cleared his voice, hiding his embarrassment behind a cough.
Then, he remembered the local anaesthesia he could use on Hien's ankle to reduce her pain. Emmanuel reached for the first-aid kit containing high-end, new products from the private medical research company he invested. He fished for the canister, broke the seal and sprayed it directly on her ankle.
Immediately, her pain lessened. Her eyes widened open, shocked.
He stowed the first aid kit back to its emergency compartment.
"Keep that ankle off the ground."
He closed the door after her when he saw her shake her head with disbelief.
Walking to the other side of the car, the prince opened that heavy door and waited patiently for the other members of Asteroid. They gave him a sheepish look before stumbling into the ride, one after the other. A smile tugged at the corners of his lips when he closed the door after them and slid into the passenger's seat.
James, his bodyguard, eyed him wryly, his hands resting on the leather driving wheel.
"Home," said Emmanuel sharply, propping his head with a hand, knowing that James wanted to laugh at him. He pressed a button, extending the partition between them so that it gave the singers some privacy, leaving them to their own devices.
"Are you sure that's a good idea, El?" He looked almost worried, knowing that the partition was soundproof. Many cutting-edge medical devices were stored at the backseat, just in case of an emergency.
The prince merely shrugged. "It's a short journey." He hoped that Ellen would be more concerned about the well-being of Hien rather than exploring all the functions of his medical equipment. There were also a few bags of his blood.
His subordinate nodded curtly, igniting the engine. The car purred sweetly to life, a soothing and almost silent hum. James's forehead creased with worry. He saw the need to get to his residence as soon as possible to avoid the possibility of the women destroying that medical equipment.
Soon, they were on the vacant streets of the city, roaring down the road towards his residence placed in the middle of the city. Emmanuel almost smiled when he realised that James was driving at the speed limit, zooming through the empty streets of the CBD. The traffic lights, thankfully, were in favour of them and they did not need to stop. Despite the speed, he could feel his subordinate stealing cautious glances of him when he drove.
"Shouldn't you pay attention, speed demon?" Emmanuel propped his face with his hand, barely paying attention to the passing scenery of the well-lighted streets. They were caged by sterile clean buildings of glass, a sign of opulence and new wealth. This was the heart of the city that he was brought up to care for it all his life. "Our lives are in your hands," teased Emmanuel in a straight face.
"Funny, that you'll say that. How are you going to explain to President Deby and Sarkozy? They were expecting you soon to deal with the hostage situation that has cropped up since Deby cannot negotiate with General Nouri. You know that Alec and Zain wouldn't be able to negotiate on your behalf."
Emmanuel should not be surprised that James would be concerned over the war. He folded his arms, staring ahead. "An hour or so wouldn't affect the odds. They should learn to keep a tight lid on the situation," shrugged Emmanuel as if the lives of his trusted subordinates did not matter: it was the contrary because Emmanuel would lay his life down for them at a drop of a hat. "Besides, you really think General Nouri wants to negotiate immediately?" posed the prince, shaking his head in disbelief. In that month he was sent to Chad as a diplomat, he noticed the strained relationship between the main actors. "We're in for a long battle when we return tomorrow morning," warned he, drumming his fingers on the dashboard idly. "I'll expect the puppeteer to make an appearance." His jaws clenched and unclenched.
The mastermind behind the rebels? They knew, from participating in the fight, that there was another country supporting the rebels. Although Nouri was a defected general, his army possessed weapons and equipment that did not belong to the impoverished land-interlocked country. The bodyguard also detected the derision since his superior saw the civil war as a childish bicker for power, with far too many powers hiding in the backdrop. "So, you'll leave immediately after we return home?"
Emmanuel inclined his head sharply. "I will leave after we have treated Hien," amended the prince, after considering his question.
He lifted a brow.
"Right, after you have treated her," amended Emmanuel. James was a practising doctor, a surgeon to be precise. "I'll use some time to finish some pressing work. Charles can arrange someone to take them back to their hotel so that I can leave as soon as possible. We should not miss the entrance of the VIP," laughed Emmanuel sardonically. He brushed his hand through his hair absently, sighing. Distractedly, he reached for his button of his jacket and undid it. He did not want to explain that he wanted to spend more time with the singer.
"El," quipped James again, looking concerned, trying to mask his worry under a casual tone. "What are your intentions towards that singer?" He softened his tone visibly, trying not to provoke the prince. Rarely had he seen his superior reveal the softer side of himself to others. "I thought you were serious about Nat—"
Emmanuel's brows skyrocketed. "I am serious about Nat," insisted the prince fervently, outraged that he would think otherwise. He combed his hand through his hair haphazardly. "Damn it, James." Emmanuel was engaged to the beautiful and petite actress. However, of recent, he encountered problem in their relationship. Somehow, Nat wanted to have a time-out from him. "Any decent man would help Hien," argued the prince fiercely, frowning. "Besides, I admire her talents and her personality," continued Emmanuel softly, his gaze distant.
James sighed aloud. "I'm just reminding you, El. Nat isn't like those women you used to have hanging on your arm." He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel contemplatively. "She will walk out on you if she believes that you're not single-minded about her. She already has concerns about your alarming number of suitors." He scratched the side of his head hesitantly, keeping his gaze fixed on the road. He was afraid of his superior's reaction to his earnest comment.
Emmanuel stiffened visibly. He took a deep breath, regaining his composure. "I…I'm aware," concluded Emmanuel stiffly. He averted his gaze, looking out of the window. His intended was in Israel, doing her graduate classes in psychology between her filming projects. Of late, she was absorbed with learning ballet properly. The thought of giving her a call crossed his mind. He checked his watch. It was still too early in Jerusalem.
"You're aware? "James quirked a brow, surprised. He was sceptical about Emmanuel's ability to be in a committed relationship since he was chasing a fleeting shadow from his childhood—a Charlotte, a girl same age as him, with no last name. It had robbed him of many wonderful relationships because these women, who were committed to him, were unable to occupy his heart. He saw his dates through this rosy-hued lens of his first love and found them lacking.
Nat, was the most patient of all these women, partly due to her ambitious nature. She would persevere until she was successful and that helped her to drill through that icy-cold heart of Emmanuel. She refused to let him see her as anything but herself, rather than a pale shadow of his first love. However, the most persevering woman needed reassurances and a harbour to reside during a storm. James rubbed the back of his neck and resisted sighing aloud.
"She feels like a nice person," remarked Emmanuel suddenly, scrutinising outside. "Just clumsy." He rolled his eyes openly, remembering the way she tripped over the hem of her dress. His shoulders relaxed at the thought of her. "Unlike the other pretentious girls—"
"You like pretentious girls," corrected James, outraged. He whipped his head to stare at him. "I thought you're always amused by their double nature?"
Emmanuel waved his hand airily. "Intelligent women are more interesting," laughed the prince brightly. "Their conversations are stimulating and interesting. It creates this drive to be better—much more thrilling," corrected the prince arrogantly, smirking. "Oh, you don't understand." He waved his hand idly, dismissing his ability to understand what he meant.
James rolled his eyes at his arrogance. "So, she feels like a nice person?" prompted the soldier, lifting a brow.
Emmanuel paused, contemplative. "A mirror. Not afraid to speak up her own mind or challenge certain preconceived notions. An interesting person," explained the prince indifferently, staring at the passing scenery. "A genuine and kind person," amended Emmanuel, sensing that there was something wrong with his answer. "Such a person is hard to find." He rubbed his rough chin absently.
How could he infer that from a short meeting with her? James must admit that the singer had guts, but she wasn't as courageous as her wife, Ellen, was she? "I thought Ellen was bolder—"
Emmanuel barked a laugh, amused. "She's a bold one, no doubt. You would not consider her to be a mirror, would you? She is just a fascinating character, with her outrageous, down-to-earth, honest ways. I like her too. There will never be a boring day with her around."
"And Susie?"
Emmanuel frowned. "Protective." He shrugged absently." The sort of woman I used to like because she is so frail that she drives an innate need in men to protect them."
James turned to regard him with wide eyes. That was all he had to say about that singer? "She's very capable and intelligent. Charismatic too. I think she gave me the best impression of the the whole lot. Haven't you notice the way that she speaks for Asteroid?"
Emmanuel inclined his head, acknowledging his bodyguard's assessment of the singer. That was fair. She had demonstrated these traits when she hosted on the talk shows he watched in the past. Quick-witted too.
"I remembered that someone used to have a crush on her?" teased James, his eyes curving. "Watched all her talk shows she hosted."
The young prince shrugged his broad shoulders. "Years ago," confirmed Emmanuel, not bothering to hide that fact from him.
"Two," amended James, grinning wildly.
"Three. Susie hosted the show with Hien," concluded the prince in a straight face.
"So you watch the talk shows, you attended the concert, you treated their entire crew because you admire Hien?" How could that be? James was flabbergasted. He had no idea that his superior admired that Taiwanese singer so much.
"Yes to the former two. No to the latter. I treated the entire crew because of their unpleasant last visit. Now, I made it more disagreeable for her," grumbled Emmanuel, scowling. "Their tour is not completed. I doubt Hien would be able to perform on stage with her injury."
Silence stretched between the two men. He could detect his annoyance in his tone as if the young prince had blamed himself for the accident. Soon, they turned into a familiar and hidden driveway that led to the private elevator under his official residence—a large 17th century, 4-stories mansion meant for the governor, named the Schloss Orange. Neat, trimmed hedges continued to line the well-lit road, hiding the guard posts on the wide, well-maintained grounds. The gardens were locked since it was at night. Emmanuel took note of the guards, hidden in the dark, watching over the expansive grounds he called his official home.
He was no longer in awe of the large, imposing mansion, lighted up by spotlight to show the intricate details of the design. In fact, it resembled the hunting palace in Versailles, the very place in which two major treaties were signed.
"A temporary medical bay in my apartments. I don't wish for Charles to know," ordered Emmanuel finally, scrubbing his face with a hand. His heart beat in trepidation. What would the older man say when he realised that he had brought a female stranger into his official residence? If he kept it to the basement, he was certain that he would not object too much to it.
Silence strained between them as James parked the ride near the elevator in the basement of the residence. Here it looked like a modern automatic garage, with several of his expensive rides parked neatly side by side. "Um…It's too late. I'm sorry, Sir. Charles is already aware," admitted James, scratching the side of his head. He avoided his glance, knowing how upset Emmanuel would be.
Emmanuel sighed, stepping out of the ride smoothly when one of the guards opened the door for him. He straightened himself, absently dusting his dark jacket as he strode to the back of the limo. The prince waved the guard away, choosing to reach for the handle and opened the heavy door, revealing a flabbergasted Hien. Both Ellen and Susie had bolted out of the car squealing at the opulence and the modernity of the mansion.
"We have always wanted to visit the gardens," quipped Susie excitedly. Her eyes scanned the vehicles excitedly.
"The famous garden! You'll need to buy a ticket to enter in and it is open only on the first Sunday of the month."
"I…I'm sorry for troubling you?" offered Hien, brushing her bangs aside meekly. She lowered her head, embarrassed by the attention. Emmanuel shook his head, his gaze was soft.
"Welcome to the garage of my official residence, the Schloss Orange." He gestured to the garage, a small smile on his face.
He closed the distance between them, placing his hand under her knees and around her. Effortlessly, he lifted the singer out of the ride as she wrapped her arms around his neck habitually. Automatically, she buried her face into his firm chest, feeling his heart beating firmly against her cheek. It reminded him of the time her father carried her when she was a child.
"Your Royal Highness!"
"Your Royal Highness, you shouldn't."
Two gasps echoed in the basement, upset. Two men dressed in black suits sank into a deep bow in front of him, blocking him from walking towards the elevator at the end of the basement.
Hien could feel his muscles clenched due to the sharp reproach in their voices. He paused and shifted his weight slightly. There was a menacing aura that surrounded him, a dread that grasped their souls in its lethal clasp, sending shivers down their spines. The singer did not dare to lift her head to look at him, knowing that he must look very petrifying to the others. A part of her realised that she did not fear him like the rest as if she were the eye in the storm. One of her hand shifted down to his sinewy shoulder and squeezed it and the tense muscle relaxed slightly.
"I'm sorry, Sire," echoed one of them in a trembling voice. Both men fell on their knees, kowtowing in front of him. "W-We…"
James, with the two other singers, hastily joined Emmanuel when they noticed the standoff. Shock gleamed in the eyes of the singers when they saw how these powerful and older man ingratiate themselves to the younger man. However, it was the air of authority and terror he wielded effortlessly like a finely-honed sword that stunned the older women. What kind of man was this prince that these older men would be terrified of him? They did not detect the sign of the affable yet arrogant prince in the man before them.
His eyes were icy-cold, dark and threatening. He regarded them with a piercing stare that sent a shiver down their spine, an arrogance that reminded them of the difference in their station. His angular jaws were clenched sharply, his lips thinned. His toned body was braced for combat, his legs at shoulder-width. Both women squeezed each other's hands, seeking reassurance. Their heart thumped erratic, threatening to stop.
His thick brows narrowed. It was the only sign that he acknowledged the presence of the men. Ignoring the kneeling men, he strode into the elevator briskly. James hastily followed him, pulling the women along with him carelessly.
The older man fired a warning look at the two men.
The prince was obviously enraged. Soon, they were in the elevator heading to one of the basement floors. A suffocating thick blanket of silence filled the constricted space of the private elevator.
"I'm sorry, Young Sire. As the commander of your security team, I am willing to accept responsibility for their poor decisions," offered James finally, bowing. "I will see to it that these officers learn their place well."
Emmanuel inclined his head stiffly, accepting his apology. "See to it quickly." His jaws clenched.
Neither of them knew what to say to break the awkward silence.
"Well…wow?" Ellen broke the silence with a high-pitch comment. She dramatically wiped her brow with a hand, as if she were wiping off the perspiration. "What was that, El?" She nudged him playfully on the arm with her elbow. "That was cool. I must admit that you really frightened me."
The lethal and dark gaze softened visibly and the tense lines on his face relaxed. Since his hands were full, he merely shifted uncomfortably. A part of him was embarrassed by his display of anger. "I'm sorry you had to see that in my home."
Hien lifted her head from his chest to regard him contemplatively. There was no smile on her face as she scrutinised him. "El, I don't think they needed to kowtow to you just because they tried to stop you. Besides, why were you so angry with them?" She had to express that uneasiness that was eating into her at the despotic and careless way he treated people. Hien was already uncomfortable with the high-handed manner he dealt with the manager of the pub even though he was trying to help her.
James inhaled sharply, staring at her as if she had grown two heads. Did the singer in his arms chide the prince openly? He was upset to see his men defied the prince in his own residence. He was surprised that Emmanuel did not order for them to be disciplined for their mutiny.
Emmanuel lowered his gaze to meet her imperiously. A flash of hurt appeared in his eyes before they hardened. The shade of his alluring eyes resembled the dark and unchartered waters of the deep, menacing. A shiver went down her spine. His jaws clenched, causing the veins on his forehead to protrude. His nostrils flared but he kept mum, refusing to answer her as if it physically hurt him.
Susie grabbed the hem of her dress and tugged, warning her with a look. The youngest singer looked away, hurt.
"El, don't mind Hien. She is deeply passionate about equal rights," laughed Ellen, trying to smoothen over this awkward moment. "Hien always speak about how everyone should respect one another."
Emmanuel closed his eyes, inhaling deeply. He opened his eyes again.
"Von Scott," ordered the prince in a cold voice. "I want you to discharge these two officers from service for insubordination and slight of the Crown with immediate effect," concluded Emmanuel finally, his lips thinned. He straightened himself. "Remind the men of what constitutes as proper conduct."
The door of the elevator dinged open and interrupted whatever that Hien had to say. It was the outrage on her face that showed that she clearly disapproved of his poor domineering behaviour. Her cheeks burnt with humiliation. Was he trying to be difficult by giving orders for an immediate firing of his men after she expressed her discomfort?
She struggled in his arms, upset.
A hot surge of embarrassment knotted her stomach. Why would he humiliate her that way when she was expressing her concerns?
"Let me down!" She flailed wildly in his arms. "Just let me down, El."
Tears filled her eyes as she struggled to break free from his grasp.
His grip tightened, holding her closer to him.
Emmanuel ignored her stern and feverish demands, marching past the guard room into the first antechamber leading to his private quarters. None of the guards knew how to react, seeing a frantic woman, who was not his fiancée, trying to wiggle out of Emmanuel's arms. Her flailing arms caught him on his chest, but the young prince simply ignored her as if she was a misbehaving child.
Susie and Ellen could only share helpless looks between themselves, following that brooding prince into the first antechamber of his private apartments.
A temporary medical bay with relevant medical equipment was set up, a misnomer from the opulence gilded white panel walls, with gold bordering. James was thoughtful to sought female, medically-trained guards to assist Hien. Aloofly, the prince placed her on the sterile medical bed even though he could have dropped her unceremoniously.
She averted her gaze superciliously, refusing to meet his eyes. The upset singer folded her arms, her lips thinned.
Seeing the tears clinging at the corner of Hien's eyes, Emmanuel's expression softened. He reached for the handkerchief in his pocket and handed it to her mutedly. All the singer could do was to stare at that offered handkerchief uncomprehending.
Was he trying to comfort her?
He placed the handkerchief into her hand.
Without waiting for a response, Emmanuel marched beyond the antechamber wordlessly, deeper into his apartment, ignoring the rest of them.
"Mr Von Scott?" enquired Susie, looking at his retreating back. What were they going to do now?
"Dr Von Scott," corrected James through gritted teeth. He brushed his hand through his short-cropped hair. He could not believe that his superior would attempt to comfort her by giving her his handkerchief. "I'll see to Ms Hien." His staff helped him to set up the equipment. He cleaned his hands with the anti-bacterial hand rub, after discarding his expensive jacket. "You may stay but you cannot venture beyond this room," cautioned the soldier, obviously displeased.
Mechanically, he got to work, ignoring his annoyance with the youngest singer.
Hien sensing his irritation, kept silent. All she could do was to stare at the handkerchief in her hand.
Ellen stepped next to her, squeezing her hand.
After examining her injury with an X-ray, James learned that she had a simple one-inch hairline fracture on her ankle. He showed them the X-ray. Efficiently, his staff helped him to clean her ankle , adjusted a proper splint for her and fetch a pair of crutches for her. He expertly set her ankle in place and held it with the adjusted splint. Like any doctor, he offered several recommendations for swift recovery. Once his treatment of the youngest singer was completed, James ignored them, packed up and leave.
The duration of the treatment helped the singer to calm down. While his actions were humiliating and spiteful, her words were unpleasant. In a way, she could have approached the topic in a more sensitive way. She realised that she should not take out her discomfort on him. She studied the expensive handkerchief in her hand—El was angry with her, so why did he give her this handkerchief when she was crying?
"Dr Von Scott, thank you," offered Hien quietly when he was going to leave. She had to admit that he was a professional doctor. Several of the product he had used to help her with the pain was new to her but very effectively. She eyed the canister. Emmanuel had used the same product on her when she was in the limo. The anger began to fade, seeing that Emmanuel cared for her under his prickly exterior.
"Yes, Dr Von Scott, we appreciate it," added Ellen, seeing that her bandmate was no longer in pain. She rubbed the back of her head nervously, uncertain of what to say. Like Susie, they were shocked at Hien's blunt chiding of Emmanuel's behaviour. However, they were even more bewildered that the irate prince had handed his handkerchief to Hien so that she could wipe her tears away.
"Don't thank me. Thank His Highness." His full lips thinned when he remembered how the youngest singer treated his superior. "The best form of appreciation is not to repay his kindness with boorish and ignorant remarks." His impassive gaze became lethal when it landed on the injured singer. "Someone will take you back to your hotel." He nodded at one of the staffs, before excusing himself to travel beyond the antechamber to Emmanuel's private quarters.
It was a clear sign that the band were no longer welcomed in his apartments.
The brows of Hien furrowed at his parting remark, knowing that she had hurt the prince deeply. An attendant returned with a nice paper bag containing three boxes. One held her broken shoes and the other was a new pair of sandals in her size. She had also placed the silky blue tie and the tie bar—the makeshift bandage—in a small black box.
The injured singer could only stare at the sandals, shocked. Did El prepare this for her? Suddenly, a wave of guilt flushed through her. She desperately wanted to apologise to him for hurting him. She turned to that attendant and grasped her hand. "I'm sorry for the trouble but do you know where His Highness is? I would like to see him before I leave. I want to thank him."
"I'm sorry, Ms Hien. His Highness has already departed for an important and urgent appointment abroad," announced a stern and older man. She looked up, staring into the face of a distinguished gentleman. It was an old man, dressed in whitetail entered the first antechamber, wearing an air of dignity that could rival Emmanuel. His back was ramrod straight, his snowy white hair was neatly parted to a side, even his moustache was trimmed so neatly that it looked as if he had measured it with a ruler. He looked so formidable that she felt terrified of him.
Fuzhen dropped her hands to her sides.
His dark eyes fell on her, scrutinising her openly. Soon, he broke his stare to look at the medical equipment in this opulent lobby. Charles made a face as if they were stubborn stains on the wall.
The rest of the staff lowered their heads when he made his commanding presence known.
The distinguished gentleman sank into a deep bow—a proper forty-five degrees bow. His voice was rich and deep, which held a hint of ancient aristocracy. " I am Charles, His Royal Highness's butler." He placed a hand on his chest, a gallant gesture that reminded her of knights of old.
Hien's eyes widened. "His Highness has left? Do you know when will His Highness return?" There was hope in her eyes. She could not believe that he could have departed so quickly since he was still here moments ago.
Charles paused, studying the woman on the make-shift bed closely. Finally, he shook his head. "He'll not return in the foreseeable future. Do you have urgent business with the young Sire?" He placed his hands behind his back, regarding her graciously.
Hien nodded vigorously, her hair bobbing. "I…I wanted to thank him and…apologise for my words. I carelessly hurt him." She brushed her hair absently, trying remained confident in the face of this fierce old gentleman.
Charles merely held her desperate gaze, maintained his menacing silence. Finally, a faint smile appeared on his thin lips. "The young sire is rarely wounded by the words of a stranger—even if he is a fan of your music. Besides, I see that there is nothing wrong in reminding him to be less despotic. The young Sire conveniently forgets to consider the views of others most of the time. Rarely does anyone dare to point out his fatal flaw for fear of his mighty temper," admitted the stern butler sagely. "I'll convey your desire to meet him. Will that be suitable, Ms Hien?"
She blinked owlishly at him, flabbergasted that she sensed faint endorsement from his eyes. She eyed the confident old gentleman. He appeared to be more than just a help or the person in charge of running the entire household since he could berate the prince in front of his guests. She could tell that he genuinely cared for the obnoxious prince as if he was his grandchild.
Why would he approve of her actions when she hurt him? "I…"
"Ms Hien, don't be mistaken. I am only saying that you have nothing to apologise for because of your kind intentions. Besides, you didn't berate him. You expressed your discomfort at his arrogance." The corners of his lips curled into a fatherly smile.
"I…" She felt clumsy in front of him. "We'll be returning to our country soon. Would that be convenient?"
Charles smiled at her, amused by her concern. "I would convey your desire to meet His Highness to him. He would decide then. You do not need to concern yourself with a returning address." His eyes twinkled, reminding her of that young and arrogant prince. His eyes would gleam in the same manner when he was amused.
Hien smiled warmly at him. She could not help being more affectionate with him, sensing the similarities between the prince and this older man. There was a sense of familiarity that she could not ignore. She bowed her head. "I would appreciate that, Charles. Thank you." Somehow, the youngest singer felt reassured after speaking to him. She was relieved that they would meet again as if Emmanuel would deliberately seek her out. Her spirits soared, glad that she would be reunited with this friend.
The distinguished butler nodded at her politely. "When you're ready, we could send you back to the hotel. Otherwise, we could offer you supper and a tour around the mansion since you're here? We have a buggy to reduce walking." He looked to Susie and Ellen, wanting to hear from the two other women. Both ladies observed their exchange quietly instead of adding their comments.
Hien took their hands, reassuring her closest friends.
Their eyes lighted up like fairy lights, sealing the choice that they would take up the offer of supper and a tour in the mansion. It was tough to be admitted into the hallowed halls of his official residence. Hien had to admit that she was curious about the mansion when she caught sight of it when they were on the limo. Was this the house he lived in since this was his official residence? She could not see a trace of him in the lavish decorations of his mansion. She could not help having a barrage of questions regarding that elusive prince who was aloof but kind to her. Her mind wandered to their next possible meeting: how would it be like to be reunited with him to continue their friendship?
Her eyes fell on his handkerchief. Wordless, she clenched it with her hand, hoping that she could return it to him in person.