|Chapter Twenty-Seven : Fiancé-to-be|

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M A R I L L A
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Layla's possessed nymphs dressed me like a mannequin.

The dress they chose barely covered me from hip-up except for the lame excuses of flowery designs around my bossom and a similar pattern of flowers woven on net cloth along the bodice and on the off-shoulder balloon sleeves. Stripes of metallic sort of cloth was attached to the lower part of the dress-a tulle skirt running down to the very tips of my toes.

The fabric was a faint purple colour and somehow it blend a little too well with the shade of my hair and skin.

My hair was pinned up into a loose messy bun at the base of my neck. Tendrils of hair framed the front on my face while the others were bound with pretty purple painted sea-shell pins.

"You're ready, Your highness." The nymph aiding to my hair said monotonically, pinning the last strand.

My gaze flickered to her glazed eyes, a frown settling on my lips. All of the nymphs I came across held the identical look on their faces. As if they were compulsed or glamoured. As if they didn't particularly know what they were doing and just followed a command.

"What's your name?" I ask the girl before she can leave the room.

The nymph with dark red highlights for hair blinks in confusion, her eyes accessing me with a sudden stupor.

She stares at me and all I do is stare back but as seconds pass into minutes, I realize with a sunken feeling that she doesn't know the answer to my question.

Or maybe she can't tell. Whatever the reason, I was wasting my time.

So rising from my place in front of the mirror, I don't bother to take a glance of myself and turn to the girl once more, this time knowing she'd have the answer.

"Lead me the way to meet my supposed fiancé-to-be." The last word is a bitter exhale but whatever encorcellment she's under, forbids her to sense the emotion.

She gives a subtle nod before leading the way down the many stairs to where Layla awaited.

***

Layla's throne room is extravagant just like how she's dressed and just like the rest of the dark castle.

She's seated atop the twin thrones clad in a silk gown the shade of the deepest crimson that hug her curves at the right places. A slit ran down the side of her upper thigh revealing half-if not, most-of her left leg. And a diadem of rubies sat atop her head.

She looked enticing and I suppose that was the plan guessing by how she kept staring at Zander who seemed to be in his own world. Her hand slid up his velvet doublet clad arms in a seductive gentle carress. She was to appear enticing for her supposed 'date' with devil incarnate.

I didn't pry my focus too much on Zander because I knew he looked just as enticing as she and I had no intention of awakening stupid mate bond fiasco that still ran deep in my veins.

I cleared my throat in an attempt to divert Layla's attention of off the stupid demon and so that I could get done with my even more stupid task.

Layla blinks as if suddenly realising she has company. Her hand rests atop Zander's and she looks my way to do an once over my form.

Zander turns to glance at me too and even though I'm not looking at him, I sense him go so very still. Layla seems to notice it too as a hurt look crosses her face before she conceals it with a smile and twines her hand with his affectionately.

I almost roll my eyes. Almost.

She could have him. I had no intention of claiming ownership even if he's presumably my mate. It doesn't even bother me.

Really it doesn't....

Some nagging feeling at the back of my mind in the form of Valerian's stupid face seems to give me a blank look but I ignore it.

"If you both are done coddling each other, could I meet my fiancé-to-be and get done with this dumbness of a task?" I voice out because none of them really initiate a talk.

Layla's red painted lips quirks up into a teasing smile, "Eager, are you?"

For a moment, the expression almost reminds me of the little Layla who used to tease me around guys but then I realize why I'm here and what she's making me do and my face contorts into a wry smile.

"I suppose." My voice drips in sarcasm.

Layla lets out a sigh before rising from her throne. Zander gets up from his seat too ever the doting 'date'.

"Dilin. You can come in now." Layla's voice is loud enough for any of her courtier to hear beyond the small throne room.

Not a minute later, the double door to the courtroom is pushed open and a tall figure emerges through the shadows of the dimly lit corridor and into the throne room.

I blink and then blink some more as he takes one step after another before standing right in front of me.

I'd expected the man Layla 'chose' for me to be some old hag or a groovy perverted creature or anything particularly disgusting or nauseating.

But the man in front of me. . .

He looked like a prince carved out of a dark fantasy novel.

Dilin's messy mass of golden-brown curls fall over the side of his face as he tilts his head to the side. His golden eyes study me with a deep intensity and a smile curves up at the sides of his soft looking lips. He extends a hand forward speaking in a ruggedly deep voice,

"A pleasure to finally meet you, sweet meat."

What do you think of Dilin?👀

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What do you think of Dilin?👀

I'll update the next chapter tomorrow-ish in compensation of this short one. I hope you liked the chapter!

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