Page 102 of A Requiem of Fire and Ice

He tilts his head, eyes narrowing, analysing me curiously.

Setting the drink down, I take a bite of the burger. A moaning sound escapes my mouth as I taste the crunchy fried chicken in this creamy, smooth garlic sauce, complemented by the crisp, earthy beetroot flavour.

Through the bitter memories, a sense of fondness returns to me. Dad and I used to eat at this burger place whenever I finished at the academy. This fondness is hard to suppress, and now that it has surfaced, my lip trembles, and my nose flares as I struggle to keep the sadness at bay.

With his head tilted to the side, Prince Reen watches me, his frown deepening when he notices a stray tear slipping down my cheek.

After I put the burger on the paper plate, I wipe away the stray tears and sniff. “Sorry. Uh…I usually have a handle on my emotions.”

Prince Reen picks up a chip and says, “I’m surprised you aren’t more emotionally damaged, Pandora. Your upbringing doesn’t seem the most lighthearted. There is also what happened that night at the Kingdom of Crystal that neither you nor Astin wants to talk about or even mention in my presence.”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” I say flatly. “But what about you, Prince Reen? Do you have any trauma? I see you have scars.”

“Many,” he says, matching my energy and tone of voice.

I twitch a smile at how defiant we are at not wanting to express our deepest secrets.

We eat, and after another bite, juice spills on my shirt, causing Prince Reen to call me a slob, disgusting and unhygienic, which leads to our following conversation.

“What the fuck were you doing in my closet, Pandora?”

I snort a laugh, food spitting out of my mouth. The chair squeaks as I lean back, wrap my arms around my stomach, and my shoulders tremble. He rambles about how many times he could have killed me but had to resist the urge because he found it entertaining, knowing I was hiding in a fucking closet.

“Stop,” I howl with laughter. “It’s not like I wanted to be there!”

He grunts his response.

“And talk about horrible imagery. I was forced to see you naked one time.”

Prince Reen chuckles. “You had to, did you? You couldn’t, I don’t know, fucking have closed your eyes or looked the other way. Someone forced you to gawk at me when you saw me naked.”

My face burns. “Shut up.”

“My thoughts exactly.” He rises from his seat. “Finished?”

As I rise, two courageous teenagers gravitate toward Prince Reen, their phones clutched in their hands. He eyes them, and his lip curls in utter disdain. The heat that can turn into flickering flames ripples across his shoulders as I near him, and I know he’s not in the right mood for fawning fans and their complete obsession with someone they don’t know.

To save the young girls like I saved the shop clerk, I take hold of Prince Reen’s hand and drag him toward the music. His eyes turn wild, burning red, and when I face him, his hand reaches for my throat, and a livid expression crosses his face, but it doesn’t scare me.

“Dance with me,” I say.

Prince Reen arches his chin higher. “I don’t dance.”

I glance at the girls who took a few discreet photos and are now leaving. My shoulders ease, and I turn my attention to Prince Reen and the set irritation on his face.

“Don’t you want to live a little?” I say.

“No.”

“Not even a teeny bit?”

“No.”

I smile smugly at him. “Do you only know one word, Reen?”

“N—” He pauses, his frown deepening while mine broadens into a grin.

I pull him towards the elemny dancers who dance for pure enjoyment. Like how Typha danced at the Crystal Ball while I stood in the shadows, envious of her carefree manner. Or when I noticed everyone having fun at the academy dances while I stood on the outskirts and examined facial expressions. My mind craves to be one of them, and in the short time I have left, I’ll do anything to have this moment before I die.