Emily caught the bewildered expression on her sister's face, mirroring the shock that had settked over the crowd. The sudden turn of event had left everyone stunned.
A brief silence fell over the crowd before erupting into thunderous cheers, with chants of the second prince on theur lips.
As the duel came to a close, everyone had began to disperse to their homes. Emily rose from her seat, her gaze sweeping the departing crowd until it came to rest on her aunt's retreating figure.
Emily raised her voice to call out to her aunt, but before she could speak, a famikiar male voice called out her name, "Miss Emily,"
Emily turned to meet the piercing black gaze of Prince Edward's trusted guard, He bowed his head in respect, and Emily reciprocated the gesture.
"You are summoned by Prince Edward," the guard announced, his voice formal and crisp.
Emlly cursed inwardly, Why did he have to show up now? She forced a smile on her face and asked, "Would you please inform the first prince that I'm exhausted and wish to return home to rest?"
The guard's smile hinted at his awareness of the prince's temperament. "I'm afraid the first prince is not in the mood to be refused at the moment."
Cathy, who had just joined her sister's side, overheard the conversation between Emily and the guard. She shot Emily a knowing glance and whispered, "You should go see Prince Edward. Bridget and I will wait here for you." Emily hesitated, but before she could protest, Bridget placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder and offered an encouraging smile, gently nudging her to accept.
Emily stifled a sigh, careful not to reveal her reluctance. With a subtle gesture, she indicated for the guard to lead the way.
Emily couldn't help but glance back, searching for her aunt, but she had vanished into the crowd.
The guard walked away from the bleachers and the crowd, with Emily following closely behind him.
******
Nearby, not too far from the bleachers, in a lavish royal pavilion, Prince Roman was sitted in a chair, eyes closed, basking in the aftermath of the duel. His trusted guard, Thomas, approached, having completed his assigned work. "Is there anything I can attend to, Prince Roman?" he asked.
As Roman's eyes snapped open, a spark of mischief danced in their depths, like a flicker of candlelight on a winter's night. His gaze locked onto Thomas, piercing and unyielding, yet tinged with a hint of playful mockery. The corner of his mouth twitched, a cold, calculated smile. "What's your take on the duel?" He inquired, a hint of amusement dancing in his voice.
Thomas stood tall, his eyes meeting Roman's with a familiar calm. "You deliberately prolonged the fight, wearing down your opponent, only to end it with a single, decisive strike," he replied, his voice steady and matter-of-fact.
Roman's gaze never wavered, his eyes glinting with amusement. "And what did you think of my... performance?" he asked, his voice dripping with sarcasm, his tone playful yet menacing. Thomas's expression remained neutral, but a hint of dry humor flickered in his eyes, a testament to his years of serving the enigmatic prince.
"Just as I anticipated, my prince." With a subtle nod, he inclined his head in a respectful bow.
A sly smile spread across Roman's face as he sat up, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction. Thomas's assessment was right. Roman had savored every moment of the duel, relishing the opportunity to crush his brother's pride with a single, devastating blow. The memory of his brother's humiliation was still intoxicating, and Roman couldn't help but feel a twisted sense of pleasure.
"Is there anything I should know?" Roman asked in a low voice.
Thomas nodded and began, "I had done some findings and i have uncovered potential corruption within the royal court, involving some of the king's advisors."
Roman's expression turned serious, his perfectly handsome face was marred with a deep frown and he asked, "Have you identified the advisors involved and their who they are working for?"
Thomas replied, "I'm still gathering evidence, but I'm certain Mr. Fletcher is one of them."
Roman's eyes narrowed at the mention of Fletcher's name. Thomas inquired, "What do you want me to do with him?"
Roman looked at his guard, posing the question back to him, "What do you propose we do with him?"
Thomas, familiar with Roman's implicit expectations, responded, "I'll take care of him immediately." As Thomas bowed and turned to leave, Roman's next question halted him.
"Have you uncovered anything about my brother's fiancee?"
Thomas apologized, "I've been preoccupied with the corruption investigation and haven't had a chance to look into it. I'll look into it once Mr. Fletcher is taken care of."
Roman's surprise was palpable when he learned of Edward's private engagement during his time in Northfield. His curiosity was piqued, and he wondered who his brother's mysterious fiancée was and what had prompted Edward's sudden decision to marry.
Roman had returned to Westfield two days ago, but his busy schedule with royal affairs had left him exhausted. His return wasn't just a fleeting visit to duel with his brother; he had come back with the intention of staying and stirring up the whole of Westfield.
The town, particularly the palace, had been too tranquil for too long, and Roman was determined to disrupt the peace. He's ready to disrupt the calm and bring excitement and intrigue back to the palace.
Thomas shifted the conversation, asking, "Would you like to take your lunch here or return to the palace?"
Roman reclined in his chair, eyes closed, and replied, "Neither of those options appeals to me."
Thomas nodded, inquiring, "Is there something specific you'd like me to arrange?"
The room fell silent for a moment before Roman's voice cut through the stillness, a sly smile spreading across his face. "I'd love to know what my dear brother is up to, and what misery he's currently enduring." He paused, his smirk growing wider. "Leave me now and return in an hour or two. I need to rest," Roman commanded, his tone firm but languid.
Thomas nodded, bowed slightly and left Roman to rest.
*******
Emily arrived at the pavilion where prince Edward was taking a rest. She greeted him with a slight bow when she came to stand before the prince, Prince Edward's face lit up with a warm smile on his face as he took in her elegant appearance.
Edward couldn't help but be enchanted by the beauty before him. She was just too beautiful and that was the reason he had chosen her before anyone did.
With a subtle gesture, Thomas bowed his head slightly and discreetly withdrew, leaving the couple to their private moment.
Emily's eyes couldn't help but wander around the the pavilion, taking in the beauty of the royal tent. The pavilion was lavishly furnished, with plush, velvet cushions and intricately patterned rugs. Delicate lanterns, crafted from crystal and gold, hung from the ceiling, casting a warm, ethereal glow. The air was thick with the scent of exotic spices and incense, adding to the pavilion's sense of opulence and grandeur.
"Please, take a seat," Edward said, gesturing to the couch across from him.
Emily hesitated, "I won't be staying for long, Prince Edward." Edward's smile was persuasive, his piercing green eyes holding hers. Emily sensed that he wouldn't let her depart until she complied, so she reluctantly sat down.
Emily observed as Prince Edward gulped down his glass of wine in one swift motion. Prince Edward's bloodshot and watery eyes was evidence that he'd been drinking since after the duel.
An uncomfortable silence hung in the air, until finally, Prince Edward spoke up, his voice low and reflective. "I needed some confort," he admitted, breaking the stillness.
"I'm not the one who should be comforting you," Emily said, her expression solemn.
Prince Edward's dry chuckle filled the air as he gazed up at her, his brown eyes locking onto her beautiful emerald green eyes. "Why not?" he asked, his voice laced with curiosity.
Emily met his gaze, her sigh barely audible. "A man shouldn't show his weakness to the woman he wishes to marry."
The prince's laughter reverberated through the room, and he poured himself another glass of wine. "You know why I adore you?" he asked, downing the glass in one gulp. "You always say things that make my heart skip a beat."
Any other woman would have been thrilled to capture the young prince's heart, but Emily was different. "Is there anything else you'd like to say, Prince Edward?" She asked, eager to end the conversation and leave.
Prince Edward rose from his seat and walked over to the couch where Emily sat. He sat down beside her, his proximity making Emily feel uneasy. The couch was spacious, but the prince's closeness, combined with the smell of alcohol wafting from him, made her stomach churn.
"Are you eager to leave?" Edward's low, rough voice betrayed his drunken state.
Emily turned to face him, her voice barely above a whisper. "Cathy and Bridget are waiting for me. It would be impolite to keep them waiting any longer."
Edward's gaze roamed over her, his voice taking on a husky, seductive tone. "Do you know it's even more impolite to keep me waiting?" Emily's discomfort grew as she tried to create some distance between them, but the prince quickly closed the gap.
As Edward's advances made her increasingly uneasy, Emily's alarm turned to distress. "I think I've overstayed," she said, attempting to make a hasty exit. But the prince was too quick, catching her wrist and holding her in place.
"Why don't you love me, Emily?" Prince Edward asked, his words laced with pain and desperation. Emily was taken aback by the raw emotion in his voice.
"So many women would jump at the chance to be loved by a prince," he continued, his tone bitter. "Alot of them would want to be in your place. But you... you don't want me."
The room fell silent, before Emily spoke up, her voice firm. "I'm not like other women. I am different." Edward felt a searing ache in his heart at her words.
She continued, "I want to live my life on my own terms, not as a princess or queen of Westfield kingdom. I want freedom, not a life trapped in the palace with a man I don't love." Edward's face contorted in anguish, as if her words had physically wounded him. Emily seized the opportunity to break free from his grasp.
As she turned to leave, Edward's laughter stopped her in her tracks. "I won't let you go," he said, his eyes blazing with determination. "You will be mine."
Edward lunged at Emily, grabbing her hand and pulling her back to the couch. She struggled to free herself, but he pinned her down, his breathing ragged.
Just as Emily managed to push him off, she made a run for the door. But Edward chased after her, his voice echoing through the night air. "You should be mine, Emily." He grabbed her arm and tore the sleeve of her dress.
In a bold move, Emily spun around and slapped him across the face. The sound of the slap reverberated through the air, drawing the attention of passersby.
The slap's impact was a crushing blow to Edward's ego, jolting him back to a sober taste. Emily's eyes overflowed with tears, her voice trembling and barely audible as she choked out the words: "I'm ending our engagement. I never want to see you again."
Onlookers gathered, whispering among themselves as they watched the dramatic scene unfold. Bridget, searching for Emily, was shocked to witness her friend slapping the prince. She rushed to catch up to Emily, who was visibly shaken.
As Emily and Bridget walked away from the pavilion, they unknowingly passed Thomas, the second prince's guard. Thomas was stunned, not just by the sight of the girl slapping the first prince, but by the girl herself. He hadn't anticipated it, but she is back.
His concern deepened, the second prince must not find out about this.