The feast carried on well into the night, but Rose's mind was far from the lavish banquet before her. The conversations, though cordial and polite, were a constant hum in her ears, a reminder that she was merely a subject of scrutiny. Every smile, every glance felt like it held a deeper meaning, a question she wasn't yet prepared to answer. Her presence had been noted, her speech acknowledged, but she could sense that the night wasn't over. It was only the beginning.
She sipped her wine, the cool liquid offering a small comfort as she glanced around the room. Prince Christopher had retreated into the crowd, his attention divided between various courtiers and diplomats, a calculated mask of politeness etched across his face. He had warned her that tonight was only a test. And though the applause had been warm, Rose couldn't shake the feeling that she was only being measured, weighed, and found wanting by those around her.
Kyle, though present at the feast, had kept his distance — watching her from afar, as though there were an invisible wall between them. She hadn't seen him engage in conversation with anyone. He merely observed, his presence a shadow in the corner of her mind.
As she scanned the room once more, her eyes caught something that made her pulse quicken. A man near the far side of the room, standing alone. His features were obscured by shadows, but there was something about the way he carried himself — poised, deliberate — that caught her attention. The way he observed her from afar sent an unsettling chill down her spine.
Who is he?
Her gaze lingered for a moment too long, and as if sensing her scrutiny, the man's eyes flicked toward hers. His expression was unreadable, cold even. But there was an unmistakable spark of recognition in his gaze.
Before she could look away, his lips curled into the faintest of smiles, a knowing smile. He nodded once, almost imperceptibly, and then disappeared into the shadows, blending seamlessly with the crowd. Rose's heart raced. She couldn't put a name to the face, but the feeling in her gut told her that this man was someone significant, someone dangerous.
"Princess Rose," a familiar voice interrupted her thoughts.
She turned to find Kyle standing beside her, his gaze not quite meeting hers. There was a flicker of something in his eyes, something she couldn't quite place. It unsettled her.
"Kyle," she greeted softly, her voice tinged with uncertainty. "Is everything alright?"
He nodded, but the tension in his posture was evident. "I just wanted to remind you to stay close to the prince. Tonight is full of whispers and schemes. The nobles… they can be dangerous if you don't keep your guard up."
Rose's heart skipped. "Dangerous?" Her eyes darted toward the guests milling around her. They all appeared so harmless, exchanging pleasantries and jokes, laughing over wine and food. But what Kyle said made her question everything she had assumed about the people in this room.
"Don't trust anyone here, Rose," Kyle added, his voice low, a rare sharpness creeping into his tone. "Not even Christopher."
Rose felt a shiver run down her spine. She had known there were tensions within the kingdom, but Kyle's warning made everything feel much more perilous. She had barely begun to understand her role in the kingdom, and now, she was learning that trust was a luxury she could not afford.
Before she could respond, a soft voice cut through the tension between them.
"Princess Rose, may I have a word?"
It was Prince Christopher, his tall figure appearing at her side with the quiet elegance of someone who was accustomed to commanding attention. The subtle intensity in his eyes didn't go unnoticed by Rose. He was a man of mystery, a man of few words, but the weight of his gaze made her feel as though every action she took was being scrutinized under a microscope.
"Of course, Prince Christopher," she said, offering a polite smile despite the knot forming in her stomach.
He gave her a small, calculated smile in return, though it didn't reach his eyes. "It's been a long evening, but I would like to speak with you in private, if I may."
Rose glanced at Kyle, whose expression hardened. For a moment, their eyes locked, and she saw the unspoken warning there, the concern he held for her. He opened his mouth to say something, but then closed it, his lips pressed in a tight line.
"It's fine, Kyle," Rose said quietly, her voice more firm than she felt. "I'll be fine."
With a reluctant nod, Kyle stepped away, his figure fading into the crowd, leaving Rose standing alone with Prince Christopher.
Christopher led her to a quiet alcove just off the ballroom, where the sounds of the feast were muffled, leaving only the low hum of distant chatter. The space was bathed in soft candlelight, the glow flickering across his sharp features.
"You've done well tonight, Princess," Christopher said, his voice calm, almost too calm. "But there is much you still don't understand about this world. About your position in it."
Rose's pulse quickened as she stepped closer to him. "What do you mean?"
Christopher's eyes darkened. "Your role is not just to be a figurehead. The Kingdom needs you, yes, but you are also a pawn. Your marriage, your alliances — they are all part of a much larger game."
The words hit her like a blow. A pawn? She had hoped for more. Had she been mistaken all along in believing she had control over her fate?
He continued, his voice lowering to a whisper. "There are those who would use you, Rose. You must decide now if you want to be a player or a tool."
Rose felt her heart race, the weight of his words sinking in. Every choice she made, every word she spoke, would have consequences far beyond her understanding. She was no longer just Rose. She was Princess Rose, a figure in a game of power, and her life — and the future of Althea — would be shaped by those who sought to control her.
As Christopher stepped back, his gaze lingering on her with an unsettling intensity, Rose couldn't help but wonder if he was offering her a choice or simply warning her of the inevitable. The feast was a stage, and she had just been thrust into the performance. How long could she keep her footing before the curtain fell?