I was already regretting my evil plan to tease Papa. Yes, it had backfired on me spectacularly. And like a defeated warrior on the battlefield, I accepted my fate with a heavy heart.
The journey to the bedroom was eerily silent.
Normally, at this time every day, I'd be running around the palace like a criminal, demanding snacks from Nanny, or playing in the mud in the garden.
But today? Today, I was a captive. My crime? Mischief. My punishment? Bedtime.
Papa strode into his chambers with all the authority of a man who owned the entire kingdom (which, technically, he did). His heavy boots made that ominous thud against the polished floor—the sound of doom. Then, without a word, he placed me on the massive imperial bed.
"Stay here," he ordered firmly, his piercing gaze holding no room for negotiation.
I nodded. Like a good little daughter. Like the perfect, obedient offspring of Cassius Devereux. (For now.)
