Chapter 27: Misunderstanding

The morning sun streamed gently through the silk curtains, spilling golden light across the princess’ chamber. Ilaria was in ecstasy after last night as she hummed a melody and twirled happily across the floor of her chamber, reaching for her gown while expecting the usual hands to help her dress.

When her gaze swept the room, she realized that only Melyn was there, her posture calm and composed as she fussed quietly with the bedding. Ilaria remembered taking a brief nap after returning to her chamber last night; when she had opened her eyes, Melyn had been the only one present…until now.

Hm…Did something happened?

She blinked in mild surprise. “Mel, where’s Liana? She’s always here at this hour.”

Melyn folded the blanket and placed it neatly on the edge of the bed, smoothing the fabric with her palms. Then she inclined her head. “Her duties have been reassigned, Your Highness. The same applies to the rest. Until the newly appointed maids are brought in, I will attend to you alone.”

Ilaria raised a brow. “Reassigned?”

“Yes,” Melyn said calmly, walking towards the princess to help her with the dress. She gathered the silken fabric and fasten the first clasp with practiced ease. “The Crown Prince’s order.”

“Husband?” Ilaria questioned, surprised at why he would suddenly do so. “But why?”

Melyn moved behind Ilaria to tend to the laces, casual and unbothered. “You know he doesn’t explain himself to anyone, not even me. All I was told is that the maids attending you has failed their duties.”

“Failed…how?” Ilaria’s voice faltered, her eyes tracing her own reflection in the mirror as Melyn smoothed the folds of her dress. Everything had seemed normal, the maids have been very diligent, attentive, and kind to her. Suddenly, the memory of last night crept unbidden, and a flicker of unease darkened her features.

She turned toward Melyn, urgency sharpening her expression. “Mel…do you think it has anything to do with last night, when I was in the library?” Her voice dropped to a whisper, edged with worry. “I was the one who asked Liana to go back…I didn’t mean to leave her, or anyone, in a difficult position…”

Melyn paused, her hands resting lightly on Ilaria’s shoulders. She had only learned from the Mistress that the maids were being reassigned, and that she was excluded. She did not know what Levan was planning, but she knew him well enough that he never acted without reason. Maybe this has something to do with Liana and Theana.

The thing is…Should she tell her? Melyn wondered. Ilaria would likely be upset to learn that the two young maids she considered close companions have acted against her, but then again, keeping her in the dark would not be right either. She at least needed to know the danger she could be facing.

“Perhaps…he simply doesn’t like some of their conduct. You know how he is, once he makes a judgment, it isn’t for us to untangle the reasoning.” Melyn said at last, hoping it would ease the tension on her face. She slowly turned Ilaria by the shoulders to face the mirror once again.

Ilaria did not ease, though. She bit her lip, looking down at her lap as she tried to make sense of the reason behind her husband’s actions. “Still…I feel guilty.”

Of course she would. Melyn had expected it considering how thoughtful Ilaria could be, but she did not dare tell her the full truth either, fearing it would only deepen her pain to know that one of her closest companions had sought to harm her. There is only one person blunt enough for this matter.

“You shouldn’t,” Melyn said lightly, sliding a pin into place. “If the prince thought you were to blame, he would’ve told you so himself. Instead, he changed the staff, that speaks for itself.”

When the turmoil on Ilaria’s face did not ease, Melyn cleared her throat and added, “If you’re so concerned, it’d be best if you ask His Highness himself.”

Ilaria gazed at her reflection in the mirror thoughtfully. Perhaps she should ask him why. It was not anyone’s fault that she had been left alone. Sometimes she even preferred it, especially when she feared becoming a burden. Last night, she had only wanted Liana free from her company without being caught up in her hours of reading.

After Melyn finished attending to her, Ilaria made her way to her husband’s chamber. When she inquired after the prince, the Chamberlain informed her politely, “His Highness is not here at the moment, princess. He has gone to the library. Should you wish to speak with him, perhaps you might pay him a visit there.”

Ilaria offered a gentle smile in return. “Thank you. I shall.”

Without hesitation, she made her way toward the library, her thoughts drifting to what he might be doing there, perhaps buried in books, or quietly plotting some careful plan only he could conceive. The thought drew a small, curious smile to her lips. Perhaps he was dwelling in his political world again. It made her want to bake more sweets for him.

Ilaria walked along the carpeted floor between the tall shelves, her steps muffled as she offered quiet bows to the passing scholars, who greeted her respectfully before returning to their readings. She quickened her pace, following the familiar path toward the chamber in sheer excitement.

As she walked, memories of the previous night fluttered through her mind. A soft warmth spread through her chest as she took a deep breath. Levan had walked her back to her chamber along this very path, and the memory still made her heart flutter. Even now, she could still feel the lingering butterflies from their rare moment together.

She wondered what he was doing inside. Is he reading? Or perhaps merely resting? Would he be surprised if he saw me?

So she hurried along, her slippers whispering against the polished floors until the tall, familiar doors of The Ivory Study came into view. One stood slightly ajar. When she saw no light spilled from within, curiosity tugged at her. Perhaps he had not drawn the curtains and had simply dozed off, and for a moment, she considered not to disturb him.

Maybe I should ask him another time.

But then she heard a voice drifting through the crack, smooth, familiar, and undeniably feminine, making her froze where she stood. The Chamberlain had said her husband was here, so why…was there a woman’s voice inside? Or perhaps…had Levan already gone somewhere, and the chamber is now occupied with someone else?

Her heart raced as she approached the doors, each step measured, quietly so as to not make a sound. She did not mean to invade someone’s privacy, but she just wanted to make sure. Ilaria’s breath caught when her eyes instinctively drifted to the narrow gap, and the sight beyond made her pulse skip a beat and her mind go blank.

The first thing she saw was her long, wine-red hair, then her very eye-catching shoulders down to her cleavage that was exposed. She does not need to think, it was Seraphine. And she was too close, angled toward a man with a softness that seemed intimate. Ilaria’s eyes widened. She could only see the sharp cut of Levan’s profile, but it was unmistakably him.

Ilaria’s hands shot to her mouth, muffling her gasp as shock zapped down her body. Seraphine’s fingers traced a deliberate path along his chest, climbing slowly toward his neck, the tip of her finger brushing his chin with a teasing intimacy as she tilted her head. Then, her voice, smooth, honeyed, and dangerously seductive, slipped through the quiet. “You know, Levan…some bonds aren’t so easily undone.”

The world seemed to tilt beneath her feet when Seraphine leaned even closer, perhaps to kiss him. Ilaria’s trembling hands dropped to her side and she took a tentative step back, each movement a silent plea not to be noticed, not to be heard. Her heart raced violently, hammering against her ribs as if betraying her presence.

With a sharp intake of breath, she spun on her heel and fled, unable to witness any of it anymore. Her chest tightened with a mix of fear and shame, every hurried step echoing her panic as though the very walls of the library could witness her misstep; as though she was the one intruding somewhere she should not be.

Ilaria had harboured suspicions ever since the first time she saw Seraphine, but to soothe herself, she had convinced her heart that maybe the woman was his cousin, someone he respected like an elder sister, or merely a close acquaintance. Anything to make sense of it without pain. But now, after what she had seen, there was no escaping the truth.

Are they…really lovers?

She knew, with a quiet, aching certainty that her love for him was far deeper than his would ever be. She knew she had no right to feel hurt or jealous knowing how one-sided her devotion was, but that did nothing to dull the pain that twisted in her chest. Her heart churned violently it feels like someone were squeezing it, crushing her very soul with the weight of longing and betrayal.

Ilaria could feel the tiniest tears prickling at the corners of her eyes as she continue to walk hurriedly towards her chamber, each one a quiet betrayal of the hope she had clung to — that they could be together. Hope had always been a cruel companion, softly whispering promises that she could never claim, but she had desperately clung to it anyway.

She brushed away the threatening tears, lightly tapping her cheeks to reassure herself; to console the fast beating of her heart. “It will be alright,” she whispered quietly, though the words felt hollow.

She had never been blind to the possibility, but witnessing it with her own eyes made the truth almost too bitter to swallow. In that moment, it felt as though loving him was a fault, a weight she could not escape, and the ache in her chest whispered that some desires were never meant to be no matter how desperate she was.

Because if he truly loved someone else, it was not her place to taint his heart with the shadow of her own longing.

~×~

In the quiet of the chamber hooked inside the library, Levan had thought he could resolve the matter quickly, but it seemed luck was not on his sides these days. Ever since he returned to the palace, everyone is fighting to double his migraine; everyone was being insanely illogical he thought he might as well burst soon.

His sharp gaze traced the lines of Seraphine’s posture as she pressed herself against him. Her dress slipped just enough to reveal the curve of her shoulder and the delicate swell of her chest, yet he felt nothing but controlled irritation. He could smell the sweetness of her perfume and feel the brush of warmth against his arm, but desire was a luxury he would never grant this woman.

“Are you done?” He raised a brow and spat, effectively stopping the woman from leaning even closer. “Do not mistake my patience for weakness, Seraphine. Whatever foolish schemes you imagine will not bend me to your will.”

Seraphine faltered a bit, but she was quick to get back on her composure, smiling provocatively. “Levan…you wound me…surely you don’t mean—”

He pressed a hand firmly against her shoulder, pushing her back. “Don’t assume. You have completely misread the purpose of this meeting.”

She looked hurt, but he did not flinch. “I made myself perfectly clear that this is about your interference. Attempting to manipulate my wife’s maids to harm her is unacceptable.”

Seraphine did not budge. Instead she tilted her head, feigning innocence that just fuelled his headache even more. “Harm the princess? You think so little of me?”

Levan let out a long, deliberate sigh, throwing his head back and rolling his eyes in irritation before looking back at her with barely restrained disdain. “Yes,” he deadpanned, finally losing it. “So little that I almost feel sorry you wasted your life thinking you could outwit me.”

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