“Be my wife,” he repeated the words again with an icy resolution in his voice.Any woman would have easily swooned over if they had heard of what he had said. Shia might have cried or laughed herself out if everything happened under normal circumstances, but none of these things were real. Everything that has happened to her since yesterday felt far too unreal to Shia.She let go of his hold against her right hand and pinched her own cheek as hard as she could. The pinched skin was far too painful that she gave a loud and sudden yell. That felt real! This must really be happening!As she rubbed her fingers against her swollen cheek, another fact began dawning in to Shia, and she felt even more mortified. The lady referred to this boy as ‘his majesty’ and ‘the prince’ several times during their conversation earlier... Could it really be that she is face to face with the royal heir to Gascone’s throne? Bad rumors have freq

“You did not take it,” he repeated while pointing his fingers outside. Shia could not quite understand what he meant. He repeated his gesture and pointed outside the tent to the direction where the servants have just left. His voice sounded even louder and more matter-of-factly than before as he spoke, “I proposed to you by the river side, remember? You said yes, so now you are wearing it.” Shia’s mouth hung open in utter surprise at the make-believe story she is hearing. She realized how ‘thoughtful’ his majesty really was of her. Seeing how he had put this ring on her while she was passed out, he might have already assumed that Shia will meekly follow his absurd idea just because he is the prince and he can get away with it. Now that they were alone, Shia only wanted to do either one of two things: slap his face one more time or punch him in the stomach for putting on a ring on her finger without her consent and assuming that she will agree to be his make-believe f

Shia’s heart beat went wild when she saw the blonde and gruff-looking head of the Imperial Guards emerge from the bushes opposite of where she stood. He then charged straight to Marmie. Shia was feeling quite stunned herself, but her quick instincts kicked in. She did not think twice as she hurled herself in front of the girl who was too wracked in fright to avoid the knight’s apparent attack. “No!” Shia screamed on top of her lungs. She tried to pull out her dagger from inside her boots, but it was not there! Shia bitterly remembered that she had left her precious dagger safely underneath her pillow inside his majesty’s tent. She had no choice but to come forward from the bushes unarmed. Praying hard that the sword of the blasted knight would miraculously miss her somehow, she tried to shove the girl’s body away from the attack. The knight, Lord Bragford Fincher, saw her come in haste between him and the servant girl. Their eyes met instantly, and sh

Shia returned to the tent where he found the prince still calmly sitting down on the small table with his food still untouched. It looked as if he was waiting for her to come back, which she did sooner than anyone would have expected. Shia eyed the back of the prince’s dark hair suspiciously. It did not look like he was even a bit alarmed about the news that Marmie turned up dead just a few hours after the ruckus at the kitchen and before she was to be taken to the Capitol. Shia slowly sat down and joined him on the breakfast table with her brown eyes intently fixed on his majesty’s face.  “Aren’t you going to ask me what I saw?” she inquired.  “I have no need for that. They will soon make a report of what happened,” he said rather coldly. Shia felt a little confused as to how the prince could easily go from being sensitive and delicate to being stiffly cold, heartless, and unfazed in a heartbeat. She tried to look at him straight in his rig

Shia felt speechless. ‘It’s him!’ she thought excitedly. As far as Shia could remember, he – this tall, red-headed, muscular man – was the actual stuff that made up her father’s stories and legends! All of her father’s tales were just about how good and great this commander was and how he had rescued him and formed a friendship with him when he was just a small lad in Tightwater. Now, Shia cannot believe that she is face to face with the great commander of the Red-Headed Knuckles himself. Shia could not stop grinning from ear to ear from her excitement. The great commander took Shia’s right hand and acted as if he was about to give it a kiss. Before this could be done, however, Shia felt an arm come around her back while another hand snatched her hand from the commander’s grip almost immediately.    “She is not the one I told you about, Sir Rus. She is my wife,” the prince exclaimed in an icy, formal tone. Almost simultaneously, Shia an