Darelle

12

Insufferable Breakfast for two had turned, and grew into a hasty farewell. Not long after Darelle rose up and dressed in her usual finest, and received compliments from her maids like every other day as well as curses from her best friend. She thought she would've to hold and bite her tongue as she had to sit and gobble down the slice of whatever her uncle ordered the cook to give her, so, the prince would see her as a proper lady, or someone who has become one in the recent years.

When she received the news that her beloved—more like be-cursed was ill and gravely at that. Her mask cracked into a concerned one as she rushed with her maids to his quarter, but was stopped by her friend who informed of what it would mean if she stepped a foot in the man's chamber, beside a doctor other than the royal physician was taking care of the matter.

She was told to head back in her quarters and wait til any further notice, and she did quietly to the shocking of her lady-in-waiting. Not quite the usual princess.

Then came the time for her to leave her chambers and abandon the knitting pin, Marisa employed her to pass time with.

Like the former day of the prince's coming, they stood like that for his departure as the mysterious physician had ordered for a quick return to recover his highness's health and the need of fresh air, and his family by his side.

Almost tired of standing in one place, Darelle heard men bellowed words of commands to move aside—make way for the prince, and she straightened her back immediately.

The prince was to pass her before his carriage and she was grateful for that, and nothing else. His matter was unfortunately hers as well. To her uncle's liking.

Darelle almost pout her lips in pity as she saw her prince made his way towards her on a stretcher with a pained expression.

"My queen." he called her, so fondly her heart melted.

"My king," she called her as she held his limp hands.

"Don't deny me a hug, for I fear I won't return." he said, so flawlessly in his words and pained expression but she knew it was his definition of dramatic.

"How can I do such? Deny you my husband-to-be? I dare not." she looked at her friend who gave her the go-ahead and she lowered herself to hug her love, who laid sparingly on the stretcher before he would be taken into the carriage.

With her head on his chest, he raised his head with a strength she didn't know he possessed in his dire condition.

"Listen," he whispered for her ears, only. "Your uncle's planning something very darkly and I won't be here to help you anyway, or intend to. Just trust no one in this palace and don't forget even the walls have ears, and eyes."

"I need to know which and how do you—" she was cut short as he pushed her gently back with the help of his personal and most trusted servant.

"I will be back, my choice." Prince Royce promised with the voice and thunder of a lion, but groaned soon after as he clenched his aching stomach. "Be careful." he said to her with an eyes that was full of so much more words and the prince's men turned him away from her praying eyes. "Until we meet again." he said, before entering the carriage to be sent back to his doting mother and affectionate family.

Darelle watched carriage set off on its path, pass the palace gate to the country of the Prince with some much on her mind, but she knew the first half of what he said was true, but the second part of the warning message was a blanking mystery to her.

As soon as the gates closed, she lifted her gown up and did a small victory dance, giggling like idiots to make her uncle's people think she was as childish as always and hated the prince. She placed her lips on her palm and sent air kisses to the young princes while visualizing them as fuck yous, so the guards could think she was glad at his departure—which she was, but couldn't help worry about what he hid from her.