Now that Eiravyne knew everyone in the kingdom was after her blood, nothing could make her feel happy or pleased—not even being sought after by the Crown Prince, the highest-ranking man in the kingdom.
She glanced down at her feet, feeling small in his imposing presence. Ilkar was dangerously well-built, and she stuttered nervously, "C-can I go to my room?"
Ilkar replied sarcastically, his voice cutting, "I suppose this is how you survived the Romani family... hiding in your room all day."
She remained silent, unwilling to let him know that her survival strategy had indeed been isolation—imposed upon her by her abusive family.
He looked her up and down, a smirk playing on his lips. "No," he said flatly, "you can't."
Eiravyne felt a surge of frustration and helplessness. She swallowed hard.
"W-why?" she managed to ask, her voice trembling slightly.
