Darelle

11

Did he believe things such a interruptions and delays of plan? Of course, he did.

Rumpel knew the reason for the opportunity of getting close to the princess was because of the betrothal to the crown prince of Dolor. What he didn't expect was the prince to arrive and put a full stop in his plan to mesmerize the foolish witch who deceived him—daughter.

The devilish creature had managed to anger the princess and won her over in two hours but as for the matter of getting near her would be unlikely since the prince had made it—his divine mission to follow the princess like a pup that lost its mother. That alone was getting on the doctor's nerves as the one who belonged to him, had another. Even in death, that hag—Olivia had hanged him in one way or the other. He wished he had ignored his curiosity and watched her beheading, and moved on with life as the years he did. But for now, he was hung on his revenge for the past and in so doing, he was correcting his humble mistake.

He had to admit though, the princess took features of her mother and yet, turned out better with a several light shade of colour than her mother's dark complexion, her cruel father's gene's did assist in her beauty. And not to forget about his part in the story of her birth, for he was the one who blessed her before she was even conceived so all the glory belonged to him unlike what the kingdom believed. Like he said he can't resist playing god.

The current reason for his agitation was the connection he felt with her, as his own magic tried to return to him, its maker and that unsettled him. Another one was the fact the princess was immune to his mind control he used on her lady-in-waiting and tried to do—tested on her. He had expected some result for meddling in human affairs and found it, she couldn't be controlled so he had to do the old fashioned way of winning a woman's heart over. There goes the French quote he threw her way like a blooming red rose that would grow in her heart.

After several long hours of working through his frustrations on being more of a sociable person than he liked or felt the need to. He came to conclusion he had to be the roughly perfect gentleman for the lady of the court to notice him. He heaved a sigh as he sipped his relaxing cup of hibiscus tea he brewed himself while the magic surrounding him, cleaned every spot in his cottage on the hot afternoon.

The magical blooms and rags, dust and swept through his glass, books and everything else. His magic acted on its own like it possessed a mind of its own as it arranged everything orderly file to its master's satisfaction while ensuring not a speck of dust is found even in the darkest corners of the cottage.

The doctor had no way of taking out his stumbling block—the prince out of his front unless . . . he dropped down his cup on his desk. A mischievous smile perfected his features as a wicked idea came to him. He couldn't rid himself of the prince unless he used a very, very old and nasty trick of his. The prince would appreciate his company along with a freshly brewed coffee. He would, alright.

A knock whisked him out of his thoughts and he stood up but not before waving his hands to return every inanimate object back to its original form. "On my way." he said, walking to the door to the human he smelt from his seat.

Taking a deep breath, he wore his mask, smiled and opened the door . . . To a maid, who he recognized from nowhere. "Good afternoon, miss. How may I be of help to you?" he asked, charmingly.

He waited for the maid to speak, who he noticed to be taller than average and a tempting beauty. He placed it that she was the one who served the previous men that occupied the cottage at one time or the other, with more than just room service, especially with the perfume that slowly seeped into his nostrils to his distaste.

"Pax asked me to clean your house and make sure you have this, sir." she lifted her hand to show a covered wicker basket that he picked up the scent of jasmine tea and a meal.