She was deposited in a waiting room just off the grand entrance hall of the prince’s mansion, but she didn’t have to wait for long. The crown prince entered quickly and sat next to her without greeting her or speaking at all.

It seemed like he was posing in order to show off his broad chest and shoulders under the bright blue formal jacket. His peacocking made Sara want to gag, but she suppressed the urge successfully.

As they sat quietly, his long fingers brushed back wavy dark hair from a picturesque face. Sara had always had a soft spot for beautiful people, so she was a bit grateful for his abhorrent behavior from the start. Without such huge red flags, she might have found herself a little enchanted by his sparkling eyes and strong jawline.

The prince continued to preen in front of her like a bluebird. It seemed like he was waiting for something. When she wouldn’t give him anything, not even a nervous smile, he began to fidget. The silence stretched out painfully.

Finally, he burst out in a petulant tone, “I introduced her, just as you asked.”

“I see,” she replied.

“Are you not satisfied?” asked Prince Henry.

Sara tried to look apathetic while the prince grew red in the face. She knew what answer he wanted, but she was unsure whether she wanted to give it to him.

Sara had no ties to this place or time, and no desire to play along with this farce. Her current goal to go back home had nothing to do with this pathetic, pampered prince. She wasn’t sure they would definitely execute her, or send her to a convent, or whatever they did to strange women here. She wasn’t even sure this moment was real.

Why should I comfort him? He has nothing to do with me.

He continued to speak, interrupting her thoughts. “You were the one who told me that if I was brave enough to show my mistress in society, you would have no choice but to accept it.”

Despite her apathy toward the situation, Sara was horrified by his statement and had to quickly shift in her seat to hide her frown. The fool had taken Lily’s careful reminder of social norms as a challenge. She was starting to wonder if the royal family was inbred to a severe degree.

The reactions of the young nobles at the tea party had not been favorable, despite what seemed to be a stacked deck in Prince Henry’s favor. This had been obvious to an outsider like Sara, yet he seemed so proud of his performance. He must have the delusion that he had been victorious in some way. Sara didn’t care, but it was certainly interesting.

Seeing that his current strategy was failing to get a reaction from his fiancée, the prince decided to change tact. He placed one of his large hands on her knee, increasing the pressure gently as he spoke. She wondered how old he was. He didn’t look like an adolescent but a grown man, and she had to search her mind for Lily’s age. When she remembered that Lily only recently turned eighteen, she frowned.

“You know I was just provoking you, my dear. You drive me mad sometimes.”

His voice dipped lower with every word. It was a parody of seduction. His hand traveled up her leg, drawing her thin silk dress and petticoat upward from the floor. Sara could feel her own hand itching to slap him and wondered if this was Liliana’s lingering reflexes or her own instinct alone.

“You shouldn’t do that,” she murmured, gently pushing away his hand as it threatened to press against her groin through her dress. She wondered what the punishment would be if she hit him. Had he done this to Liliana before?

The prince scoffed and drew back, but only slightly. His next words answered her question and chilled her heart. “You know I won’t do anything too improper until we are married. Why have you changed so suddenly?”

Sara sat frozen and unsure. She knew from experience that his words were classics from the abuser’s playbook, manipulative and sweet. He could say that she had promised him everything when the original Lily had done no such thing. Not that Sara would know for sure, but he seemed the type to gaslight.

Her heart raced. Sara feared being revealed as an imposter more than she had realized. She wasn’t sure whether the real Lily would have pushed him away or allowed him to molest her. She wanted to scream.

What happened to not caring, not knowing if this was reality? A cruel inner voice probed at her conscience.

She had to admit to herself that when threatened, she was a coward. Sara didn’t want to pretend to be Liliana. She didn’t care about this country, its politics or economy. Liliana’s betrothal to a creep meant nothing to her.

On the other hand, her own life was very precious, and she didn’t know what would happen if she was discovered by those around her. Her mind raced as she thought of how to respond, how to pretend, how to…

“I…” she began softly. Luckily for her, Prince Henry wasn’t truly interested in what Liliana had to say. He had spent her time in silence admiring her bust.

“You are acting very cold,” he mused. His hand had moved away from her groin, but his fingers massaged into the flesh of her leg as he spoke. Sara’s fingers twitched. She ached to push him away. “You are clearly jealous of my and Katrina’s closeness. I find that adorable, Lily…”

He sighed, pushing his hair back from his unblemished face once again. She wanted to retch.

“You know you will be my wife and my queen. Why do you hurt me by pushing me away? Is it truly because of my dalliance with Lady Katrina?”

Instead of allowing her to reply, the prince bent his lips to her neck. His hand lifted to one of her breasts and the other slid below her skirt and began to tug at the waist of her undergarments. In a flash, she wondered if she was dressed by her maids in a light set of skirts for this purpose.

Too stunned to cry out, Sara shoved him away with all her strength. Liliana’s thin arms did less than nothing. Prince Henry growled something about her fighting spirit and drew her closer. In a panic, she bit his lip hard when he tried to kiss her on the mouth.

The prince howled in pain and threw her back. Sara stumbled up from the couch at the opportunity but tripped on the rug. She careened forward. A guard, alerted by the prince’s cry, entered the waiting room just as Sara hit the floor. The impact, half on carpet and half on marble, sent shooting pain through Sara’s left arm.

The guard was stunned by the appearance of the royal fiancée sprawled across the floor. It took another shout from the crown prince to send the guard scrambling, and Sara felt herself being hauled to her feet rather unceremoniously.

Before she was led - or, more accurately, dragged - from the waiting room, Sara saw the prince staring at her in horror, clutching a bloodied lip with his hand. She was relieved that she had drawn blood from the creepy asshole.