I fling the cursed teacup against the floor with a sharp crack, watching in satisfaction as it shatters into jagged pieces. The sight of destruction, though small, brings me a fleeting sense of control. But it doesn't last long. My chest is still tight, and my hands tremble with barely-contained fury. That arrogant bastard! How dare he look at me like that, as if I'm beneath him? I am the Crown Prince. No one—no one—should dare to meet my eyes with anything less than absolute submission. And yet, Thorne, with those cold, disdainful blue eyes of his, has always acted like he's above me.
I clench my fists, the memory of his impassive gaze taunting me. How dare he dismiss me, as if I were some court jester meant to amuse him?
Five years ago… that was when it all began.
– Five Years Ago –
