“I should be with Elizabeth right now, showering her with the affection she deserves!” I lamented.
“One can always dream.”
“I’m being serious!”
I clenched my teeth and whipped around to glare at him. He was a handsome young man with deep ashen eyes and heavy eyelids, his silver hair swept back with perfect precision.
Dammit… Does he think he can insult me with his good looks?! And how dare he be taller than me?! Such insolence!
Classes were over, and we were killing time before returning to the palace. It made me sick, wasting my scant free time with him. I’d seen enough of his face for a lifetime.
“Don’t those nobles have anything better to do than put on those idiotic plays? I should have them all arrested for insulting royalty. Wouldn’t it be far more entertaining if they threw themselves into a nice dungeon cell?”
“If they agreed, the plays wouldn’t be so profitable.”
“Don’t play coy, Harold. Think. You agree with me, right?”
Harold shrugged and shook his head.
I let out another sigh. I’d been sighing so often lately that I barely breathed normally anymore. In a feeble attempt to patch my wounded heart, I pulled out my pocket watch and flipped it open. An intricately detailed image of Elizabeth was engraved on the inner lid, as she appeared at the Commencement Ball several days before. My countless other similar pocket watches were safely stowed away at home.
That emerald-green ribbon goes with her golden curls so well… She’s so charming, so mature! Ah, Elizabeth!
Harold didn’t have to hear my thoughts to shoot me a look of disgust. “If Lady la Montlivere could see you now, she would be positively repulsed.”
I shook my head sadly. “No… I bet she wouldn’t even care.”
“Oh, Your Highness…”
His voice was laden thick with pity, and irritation welled up within me.
The worst thing was, I was right. Elizabeth didn’t give a fig about me. If she knew, she’d probably just nod and carry on with her life. “Of course you have a picture of me, we’re engaged,” she would say, and she’d never think of it again. She never stopped to consider that I loved her, idolized her, and worshipped the very ground she walked on. To her, we were partners in a dance of politics, nothing more. She was faithful to her role in life to a fault.
✦ ✦ ✦
💕 💕 💕
WE first met when I was only eight years old. I knew I had a fiancée, but she was nothing more than a name before my birthday party that year. To be frank, I didn’t want to meet her. I had no grasp of my duties as crown prince whatsoever at the time. I’d sneak out of my classes on the norm and goof off until Mother caught me, and I often regretted being born a prince. I was convinced that my fiancée would be a hard-eyed and critical woman just like Mother.
I could not have been more wrong. No, her beauty was more exquisite than the best doll-maker in the land could ever hope to replicate, and while she spoke little, her violet eyes bore an iron will within them.
“It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Prince Vincent. I am a daughter of House la Montlivere, Elizabeth. I still have much to learn, but I look forward to making the kingdom a better place at your side.”
She met my gaze with eyes like fine crystal, pinched the folds of her skirt, slid one foot a half-step behind her, and dipped low in a curtsy, raising her chin in perfect coordination to not so much as rustle her pristinely kept hair. Despite not being more than eight years old herself, her curtsy was perfection.
I was unable to say a thing in return. I couldn’t remember a word of what I was supposed to say. All I could do was blush bright red and stand stiff as a board. Luckily, Father greeted her in my place. Throughout the whole exchange, Elizabeth maintained that posture without so much as a sway in her limbs or a tremble in the tiara or flowers perched in her hair.
I was lovestruck. Absolutely devastated. I spent the entire night crying alone in my room. There was no way a girl like her—an angel bearing my fiancée’s name—would ever fall in love with a boy like me. Grief consumed me. That was when I realized that love at first sight was real.
After that day, I put my heart and soul into becoming a man worthy of her affections. My parents were beside themselves with joy, and no doubt they knew my sudden change of heart was due to meeting Elizabeth. I begged my Father to have the best painter in the realm make me a picture of her, and in exchange, I caught up with my studies in the blink of an eye.
I had my tutors beat manners into me until it was second nature, and then I plunged headfirst into the politics, economics, and other arts of rulership of my own volition. All of it was for Elizabeth. Every second of my life was dedicated to when I would be king and she my queen, so that she would never have to lift a finger.
However, as our engagement was political and the lives of a crown prince and a duke’s daughter were both overbearingly busy, we were lucky to meet once every few months. Every time I laid eyes on her, she only grew more beautiful, and my love for her grew stronger.
I counted every passing second until the Commencement Ball, where, at the age of fifteen, I would finally be able to study alongside her at the Royal Academy. Even my free time was dedicated to her, and I studied harder than ever before. If my grades dropped even slightly or if there were ever any issues in my personal life, my time with her would be at risk. I had to act swiftly, be perfect, and crush any problem before it arose. I finished all three years’ worth of study before even enrolling, committed every possible manner to memory, and was prepared to make the most of three golden years with her.
That was when that horrible, vile, inexplicably cruel “romance” novel was published.
Even the Stars Cry for the Holy Maiden, or Star Maiden, was the tale of a baron’s daughter who received a Blessing from the stars, her pure heart won over the prince, and the two lived happily ever after. It was a common enough plot that I could’ve pointed to dozens of similar stories over the years, but this particular tale had a few twists. One was that the heroine married the bachelor to end all bachelors—the Crown Prince himself, and he was clearly written with me in mind. Not only that, the prince’s fiancée was a mockery of Elizabeth. That alone was enough to make it feel unnaturally real to nobles and commoners alike, and it sold with horrifying speed.
Ugh… The vileness of it all.
I read it myself, of course, and took careful stock of the drawings where the prince was with his fiancée. They were all in black-and-white and with enough liberties taken that the art looked similar to us, but not identical—asking an illustrator to draw us directly would’ve crossed a line.
The author had to have been conscious of the similarities, not to mention the allegations of slander and disrespect that would likely accompany it. I had Harold investigate the author, but they used an alias, and not even the publisher knew how to contact the author directly or their true identity.
Under most circumstances, a mere novel and a few rumors wouldn’t have been enough to get between the two of us, and I was more than willing to prove the strength of our bond. There was an inconvenient complication, however.
“Lady Yulisse Merrifield!”
As soon as I heard that wretch’s name echo down the hallway, I snapped to attention. The school’s resident celebrity, Lady Yulisse herself, stood surrounded by young ladies in the hall. Lady Yulisse’s dress was modest in terms of decoration, but the ladies around her sported finely embroidered designs and plenty of lace. They had to be counts’ daughters at least.
“Don’t you think you’re being a tad too persistent?” one of them confronted her.
“Perhaps you aren’t aware how deeply Lady Elizabeth has been wounded by your slander?” suggested a second, sneering.
“And of all the brazen requests,” chided a third, “you would dare ask Lady Elizabeth herself for an introduction to His Royal Highness Prince Vincent?”
I blinked in surprise. They were talking about me. I exchanged a glance with Harold before backing away from the door. They hadn’t noticed us, and I wasn’t about to kick the hornet’s nest. It would be best for everyone involved if I left and pretended I hadn’t heard a thing. At the sound of Lady Yulisse’s voice, however, I froze.
“B-But I didn’t mean to offend anyone… I only wanted to enjoy Star Maiden.”
Oh? She wants to “enjoy” that slanderous tome, does she?
My interest must’ve shown on my face, as Harold shot me a scolding look. Don’t you dare say a thing, his eyes said. Granted, I had a tendency to blurt things out at inopportune moments. He never said anything without good reason; his every action was measured as well.
No wonder he’s worried, though. Lady Yulisse herself is the source of my every nightmare.