“Well, thank you again, but I can promise you, Thatcher won’t ever touch me that easily again,” I reply.
We stare at each other for a moment longer before we reach the wide door. The celebration has already started as Nolan passes me with a smile.
“Shall we?” Rohhit asks, his hand gently resting on the small of my back. A thrill runs through me at his touch as the wooden doors swing open, and the entire room pauses to look in our direction.
My race reddens due to the attention, but Rohhit seems to enjoy it. He stands taller, his hand moving from my back to his sides—a true gentleman. Our gaze meets again as he nods and moves forward through the crowd, leaving me standing there, all eyes on me.
Chapter 20
The throne room is barely recognizable. What was once a cold, imposing space is now filled with bright, fragrant flowers that make the air tingle with life. Lights hang from the ceiling, mimicking falling stars against the backdrop of the darkest sky. The windows are wide open, allowing a fresh breeze to filter in, making the room feel lighter than it has in years.
Townspeople are dressed in their finest clothes, and the competitors wear polished armor, each showcasing their muscular bodies, drawing appreciative gazes from those around them. The women and men in the room watch in awe, some even openly admiring the competitors.
The music fills every corner of the room, its deep bass haunts the space and reverberates through my chest. Daramveer’s music has never been upbeat, but there’s something about it that always soothes me, even in the most chaotic moments. The bass rattles my heart and draws me into its rhythm. As a child, I would often sneak down to my parents’ parties just to listen to the orchestra—the haunting melodies calming my restless mind. The crowd moves with the music, their bodies swaying as if guided by the notes. Women twirl with their partners, gracefulas leaves dancing in the wind. I long to join them, but I know better. Any attention on me would only attract more eyes, and I’d rather not risk it.
I make my way through the crowd, searching for Maines in hopes that she’s already arrived. Instead, I’m met with lingering gazes from people who don’t treat me as a person but as a trophy for their entertainment.
I never dress in such gowns, and the looks I receive around the room instantly make me feel uncomfortable—in this instance, I fake my confidence as I strut toward them.
“You look stunning.”
I turn, finding Silas standing inches behind me. The look on his face isn’t one I’ve seen before, jealousy mixed with pure hunger. It makes my knees wobble.
“Thank you, Prince. You don’t look bad yourself,” I lie, my heart rate increasing with every breath.
He looks fantastic, his black hair slicked back to perfection. Candlelight dances off his eyes, casting a devilish sparkle that I wouldn’t mind getting lost in. He smiles, his gaze traveling down my body, landing on the marks forming on my arms.
“Who did this to you?” His eyes darken as he takes my hand.
“It’s nothing.” I try to move my hand from his grip, but he holds steady. “From the second trial.”
A forced smile crosses my lips as I shift my gaze back to the crowd, hoping to change the subject quickly. “I’m fine, Silas. You can stop being overprotective.”
“Briar, the second trial was days ago. Injuries wouldn’t be that noticeable at this point, and I did not notice those yesterday. Who did this? Was it Rohhit?” he demands. “After all, you two showed up together.”
“Oh, are you an expert in bruises?”
“I’m not going to ask you again.” A breeze stirs in the room, and I realize how serious his tone has become. Shadows curl around his hands, an obvious sign of the anger rising within him.
“Good! Then don’t ask me again. You know I can handle myself, Silas, and I’m telling you I’m fine. I don’t need you hovering over me.”
Hurt replaces the anger in his eyes, and I feel a stab of regret. “My Briar, if anyone hurts you, tell me.”
“You are actively competing against me to take the little bit of freedom I currently have away from me. You have no right to speak on that matter, and if I choose not to disclose things to you, that is my choice! Mine! And I’m going to hold on to my choices while I still can.” The harsh tone echoes around us, “And don’t call me that. I’m not yours!”
A few curious glances flicker in our direction. Silas sighs heavily before bowing, his voice softer now. “I don’t think you mean that—I hope you don’t mean that. But very well, Princess. Please enjoy your night.”
He turns, walking toward the balcony, leaving me standing there with only my words.
Don’t follow him, Briar.
Walk the other way.
I push aside my internal thoughts and storm after him, unable to resist—his presence draws me against my will.
The balcony is empty except for Silas, the soft glow of the moon casting long shadows across the dark stone. The subtle sound of waves against the pier rush around us.
I step next to Silas, placing my forearms on the railing as I inhale the fresh air. He doesn’t meet my gaze but speaks instead, his voice low. “Something about you makes me insanely protective.”
