(Nicholas)
I stood at the edge of the bed, watching Isabella sleep. Her breathing was soft, and she looked peaceful, but I couldn't get rid of the feeling that something was wrong between us. I wasn't in love with her, not like I was with Elara, but there was still something that I couldn't place my finger on. I had to know what she was hiding, but for now, I needed to clear my head.
I sighed quietly, running a hand through my hair before slipping out of the room as silently as I could. I wasn't in the mood to talk to her this morning. My thoughts were too jumbled up, and I didn't feel like facing another awkward conversation.
The halls were quiet as I made my way to the dining room. Breakfast with my parents and sister was never something I looked forward to, but I needed a distraction. Maybe they'd talk about something other than the mess in my head.
When I walked in, they were already seated. My mother, as always, had a disapproving look on her face. My father was hidden behind his newspaper, barely acknowledging my arrival. And then there was my sister, Eleanor, smirking like she knew something I didn't.
"Good morning, Nicholas," My mother said, her tone sharp and clipped.
"Morning," I muttered, taking my seat at the table. The servants had just begun to bring in the food—simple, nothing too fancy. I reached for some bread and butter, trying to avoid the usual small talk.
"You're late," Eleanor said, her smirk widening. "Trouble with your princess?"
I shot her a look, but she just shrugged, biting into her apple with a smug expression. I ignored her, focusing on my plate, hoping they'd drop it.
But just as I started eating, the door opened, and Isabella walked in.
I blinked, my fork freezing mid-air. She wasn't wearing one of her usual dresses. Instead, she was dressed in trousers and a loose shirt, something far from what you'd expect from a princess. My parents looked up, their expressions a mix of shock and disgust. Even Eleanor seemed taken aback, though the smirk quickly returned to her face.
"Well, well, well," Eleanor started, her voice filled with sarcasm. "Looks like someone forgot how to dress like royalty."
My mother's lips pressed into a thin line. "Isabella, dear, I wasn't aware you had decided to abandon proper attire."
Isabella met their stares with cold eyes, not flinching or backing down. "I don't need a dress to prove I'm a princess," She said flatly. "I can wear whatever I want."
My father lowered his newspaper, watching the scene unfold without saying a word. His gaze was calculating, as if trying to decide whether it was worth getting involved.
Eleanor wasn't done. She leaned back in her chair, her tone filled with fake sweetness. "Of course, darling. But you should know that looking like a commoner won't earn you any respect around here."
Isabella didn't miss a beat. "I don't need your respect."
Her words hit the room like a slap. My mother stiffened, her fingers curling around her teacup. Eleanor's smirk faltered for a second, but she quickly regained her composure, looking ready to say something nastier.
But Isabella wasn't having any of it. She stood tall, her chin raised high. "You can think whatever you want about me," She said, her voice steady, "but I'm not here to be pushed around by any of you. So if you've got something to say, say it to my face. Otherwise, keep your opinions to yourselves."
I couldn't help but feel a bit of admiration for her. She wasn't backing down. She wasn't letting them get to her, not like most people would. She was stronger than I gave her credit for.
There was a tense silence in the room after her words. My parents exchanged glances, clearly unsure how to handle the situation. Eleanor huffed, rolling her eyes as she picked at her food, but for once, she stayed quiet.
Isabella turned her gaze to me, ignoring the rest of them. "Nicholas," She said, her tone firm, "I need some gold coins. I'm going out."
I blinked. "Going out? Where?"
"Does it matter?" She shot back, crossing her arms. "I'm going to do something fun, something I want to do. And I need the coins to do it."
It wasn't a request; it was a demand. And the way she stood there, staring at me with those determined eyes, I knew I wasn't going to win this one.
I sighed and reached for my coin pouch, pulling out a few gold coins and handing them over to her. She took them without another word, tucking them into her pocket.
She didn't wait for anyone to say anything else. She turned on her heel and left the dining room, her footsteps echoing down the hall as she disappeared.
The room was still, awkward, and tense after she left. My mother finally broke the silence with a small cough, but she didn't say anything, just shook her head in disapproval.
Eleanor snickered quietly, but I could tell she was irritated by how things had gone down. She had tried to get under Isabella's skin, but it hadn't worked.
"Trouble in paradise?" She teased again, her eyes sparkling.
I didn't bother answering. I just stared at the door where Isabella had left, my thoughts still spinning. She had stood up for herself against them—against all of us—and I couldn't help but feel a strange mix of frustration and respect.
I took a deep breath, trying to clear my head, but my thoughts kept drifting back to Isabella. She was different now—stronger and braver. Yet, I felt the distance between us growing wider.
"Are you going to say something?" Eleanor prodded, breaking my thoughts.
"I'm done talking," I replied, my voice low.
My mother tapped her fingers on the table, clearly displeased. "This isn't over, Nicholas. You need to control her behavior."
I met her gaze, irritation bubbling inside me. "She's not someone to control. She has a mind of her own." No one said anything else which was better for them.
I continued to eat, trying my best not to think of the way Isabella had changed since she wasn't that important to me.