“You shouldn’t have gone looking for me.”

“I wanted to make sure you were okay.”

“Please do not lie to me,” he replied, brushing my hand away from his face. “I told you,” he stated calmly. “I don’t want to feel your pity”.

“You know that isn’t true,” I pleaded. I could feel the pain in his voice, and it hurt me.

Then, in a rare moment of vulnerability, Alexander looked into my eyes, his gaze heavy with a profound understanding. "Sophia," he began, his voice carrying the weight of unspoken truths, "I see it in your eyes. 

The fear, the hesitation. You pity me." 

The admission hung in the air, the unspoken acknowledgment of the silent barriers that separated us. 

He continued, "Everything you've done, every comforting word and steadfast gesture, it's all because you pity the cursed existence I bear. I can feel the weight of your sympathy." 

The room seemed to hold its breath as Alexander bared his soul, grappling with the bitter reality that even the warmth of my presence couldn't dispel the shadows that clung to him. A surge of frustration and hurt coursed through me as Alexander's words hung heavy. 

In response, I steadied myself and met his gaze defiantly. "No, Alexander, you're wrong," I declared, my voice unwavering. 

"I've never pitied you. What I feel for you is not born out of sympathy but genuine care and love. I've stood by you, not out of obligation, but because you matter to me. I've seen your strength and struggles, and it's not pity that fuels my actions; it's love. I care about you, not as someone burdened by a curse, but as a person, as the Alexander I've come to know and cherish. Don't mistake my sincerity for pity."

I began to wipe away the tears that rolled down my cheeks. “I cannot believe that you continue to doubt me.”

“I’m sorry.” He replied, pulling me into an embrace, “But I cannot accept this type of love.”

“Yes, you can!”

“The last thing I want is for the nobility of this realm to tarnish you and your family’s name because of me,” he whispered, “Even if that means holding you at arm's length.”

“Are you going to push me away because of the lies you have told yourself? Even though I’ve told you time and time again that what you’re thinking is not true?”

“To protect you.”

"Enough of this," I declared, pulling away from the embrace. "Stop worrying about me; be selfish. Let others concern themselves with your well-being. You don't have to navigate this life alone."

"And what am I supposed to do? Everywhere I turn, it feels like I'm accumulating enemies because of who I am and what I represent," Alexander retorted, his voice escalating. "You're trying to impose something that I can't accept because it'll hurt you more than me."

The Prince locked eyes with me, taking a deep breath. "You're all that I have left. Why can't you understand that?" he persisted.

"You don't grasp the extent of power and influence the nobles in this realm wield. Their collective sway is formidable, enough to rival that of your fathers. They can unleash forces that will not only harm me but also you and your family, all because of me."

"I'm being suffocated, Sophie, so please—"

Unable to bear more from Alexander, I slapped him in frustration. Tears streamed down my face as his words felt like knives, each sharper than the last. "How dare you claim I'm forcing myself to love you?"

"Sorry," he mumbled, not meeting my gaze. "Just stay away from me for this tournament."

"Why should I listen to you?"

"You don't have to listen to me; just know this: I promise you, I will win the King's last event," he declared before exiting the room.

####

"I promise you I will win the King’s last event."

Those words reverberated as I resumed my duties as the Lady of the Huntington family, navigating the day's obligations. Meetings with delegations were interspersed with the echoes of Prince Alexander's presence in the Armoury, his unleashed power a vivid memory that defied reason.

The implications of winning the King's last event began to unfold in my thoughts. It wasn't merely a barbaric spectacle; it held the potential to tip the delicate balance of power within the kingdom. Prince Alexander's victory would directly challenge the Crown Prince, Prince Marcus, jeopardizing the carefully crafted image of their sibling rivalry.

Sitting at the dinner table later that day, surrounded by my family and the royal family, excluding Prince Alexander, the air was thick with the clinking of silverware and the soft murmur of conversation. Prince Marcus, ever wise, noted my preoccupied demeanour.

"It seems the young lady has a lot on her mind," he remarked with a tone that hinted at mockery and understanding. His words cut through the veneer of politeness, focusing on the day's events. "It is because of the second Prince and his outburst," he sneered. "You shouldn’t have gone after him. I bet he hurt you more."

Meeting his gaze with resolve, I carefully chose my words. "I assure you, Prince Marcus, I am more resilient than you think."

His amusement lingered, the tension thickening as our eyes locked. It became evident that this exchange was more than a conversation; it was a subtle power play within the intricate web of court politics.

“That’s enough,” boomed the elderly statesman, King Cyrus.

“I cannot enjoy this dinner gathering with you two bickering.”

“My apologies, your grace.”

“I’m not disappointed in you, Lady Sophia. I’m disappointed in the Crown Prince for ruining the warm atmosphere of a dinner gathering.”

“Anyway, I’m looking forward to winning the Malee father,” Prince Marcus stated, seeking approval. 

“You will bring honour to this household,” replied Queen Julia, who looked on with a bright smile.

I was all too familiar with this dynamic unfolding before my eyes. Where Queen Julia and the Crown Prince act as one as they try to impress the man of the household, King Cyrus. To limited success, however. 

Before taking the throne, King Cyrus was always known as a quiet individual who would do all his talking during combat. Known as one of the greatest knights of the Empire, his accolades and triumphs spoke for themselves. The one thing he disliked was people going out of their way to seek his attention.  When I was younger, I often heard stories about how King Cyrus, in his younger years, would make an effort to humiliate all those who actively sought out his attention publicly. 

Ironically, this has been the one thing the mother-son duo has gotten away with. They always made it a point to make King Cyrus hear about just how ‘good’ of a person Prince Marcus was and how much of a blessing he was for the von Richter house.

It would make sense, though, because it’s his own family. Why would he lecture them about something so trivial? Maybe it was because he could finally feel a shift in power towards his wife and son, something he would no longer be able to stop because of how influential they were in the realms politics.

“Is that so?” King Cyrus asked, never once removing his gaze from the plate of food before him. “It seems like this realm is alone in that belief.”

“What do you mean, father? Do you question my abilities to win?”

“I do not doubt your abilities; however, do not forget that your brother is favoured in the eyes of the Emperor and the Archduke.”

The chatter of the room ground to a halt as everyone began to gaze at the King. It was true despite Prince Alexander’s reputation throughout the Kingdom of Aethralis and the Empire. It didn’t matter because he had the backing of the Imperial family. The Emperor and the Archduke were always the first to praise his abilities of swordsmanship and mana.

When Alex and I were young, they often visited the Palace to pay King Cyrus and his family a visit. They always tried to connect with Prince Alexander, even if it meant drawing the ire of those around them. I mean when you’re the Emperor and his brother, no one will ever have the courage to oppose the will of the Romano House.

“Which is an insult to this family!” The Crown Prince cried out in anger, “How can someone like him have the favour of the Emperor? He must have gone mad with delusion!” 

The elderly king wiped his mouth with his cloth. “The Emperor and the Archduke do not throw praise or backing behind someone just for fun.” He turned his attention towards his son. “It’s because they saw something that made your brother stand out above all else.”

He stood up from his seat and cleared his throat. “Alexander is a highly skilled swordsman praised by the Emperor and possesses a mana ability lauded by the Archduke. Do not your delusion cover that your brother, Prince Alexander, is stronger than you might think.”

“Honey, don’t tell me you think he can defeat our Marcus. We both know that this is not true.” Queen Julia asked, quivering at the King’s sudden rebut of their son.

“Given Marcus’ current behaviour, I think he, Prince Alexander, can. Great swordsmen demonstrate humility and grace. The lack of humility and the sense of entitlement are traits of an individual not fit to rule.”

“Lady Sophia,” the King stated, looking at me, “Yes, your majesty?” I replied

“Come with me on a little walk,” he said as he slowly led the way out of the dining room. “As for you, Crown Prince Marcus, it seems to me that you have more to lose than your brother. As such, I expect you to win, or you will be the one insulting the honour of this family”.