After dressing, I moved toward the carriage. If I was to meet that psychopath, I had to be prepared. A part of me wanted to reach out and pluck his eyes from his head—if only I had the power to do it.
But when I reached the carriage, I found someone waiting who made my blood run cold. My bastard of a brother.
"My lord," I said, my voice dripping with icy formality. "What business brings you here? I thought you had work for the house."
He didn't answer immediately. His eyes traveled slowly from my toes to my head, a lingering gaze that gave me disgusting chills.
"Pati ac dolor," he murmured.
Again with that name. My hand itched to strike him. Control yourself, Pati. Control your emotions.
"Yes, my lord?" I replied, keeping my face a mask. I knew he was waiting for a reaction. He said "sister" with a tongue that never meant it the way a brother should.
"How can I let my precious little... sister... go alone to the First Prince?"
I knew it. I hadn't told anyone—not even Father—about my plan to meet that psycho. This was his way of saying, I am always watching you.
"How delightful," I said with dry humor. "That my lord cares so deeply for my safety."
He held out his hand to help me into the carriage. I felt a surge of nausea, but I couldn't refuse him. The stress was a physical weight. I climbed inside, and he sat beside me, much closer than necessary. His hand came to rest on my knee. I wanted to smack it away, but the memory of what he was capable of kept me frozen.
"Why the sudden meeting with the First Prince?" he asked. I could sense the simmering rage beneath his calm. He didn't like his "precious" sister meeting another man.
"I wish to ask him why His Highness wants to marry me."
At my words, his grip on my knee tightened painfully.
"Marry who? Why do I know nothing of this matter?" His jaw ground shut.
"Ask the Duke," I said, looking straight ahead.
"I only learned of it recently myself."
His hand slid further up my thigh, giving it a hard, possessive squeeze. I wanted to punch him in the gut, but my breath hitched in my throat as his fingers moved higher. I felt like a trapped bird.
Suddenly, the carriage lurched to a halt. Finally.
Before he could say another word, I was out the door. I practically ran toward the royal castle, desperate to put distance between us. Phew. Away from him.
The royal guards watched me as if I were a monster emerging from the mist. I didn't mind. In fact, I liked it. But as I crossed the threshold, the Commander of the Royal Guard stepped into my path. The tip of his sword stopped mere inches from my throat.
I didn't flinch. I had faced worse than a blade.
Dion Agriche.
He was a man of jet-black hair and grey eyes that were almost entirely empty. He was taller than any man in the empire, with a muscular frame that made most women droon. I, however, kept my composure.
"Ah... it seems Lord Agriche has a rather unique way of greeting me," I teased, my voice thick with sarcasm. Taunting him was one of the few pleasures I had left. "Right, Lord Agriche?"
"Lady Ellington," he spoke in a deep, floor-vibrating voice. "What brings you here without a word of notice?"
"Is the palace not mine to visit? Given the situation?" I watched his eyes flicker as I leaned in closer to the blade. "I am here to see the First Prince."
Dion paused. His jaw clenched, and for a moment, he looked like he wanted to throw me out of a window—or something much more violent.
"Why does Lady Ellington wish to see His Highness?"
"I do not believe that is any of your business, Lord Agriche."
His eyes flashed with a spark of pure anger. God, I loved that look on him. He forced himself to remain still. "I apologize for the inconvenience."
I didn't wait for his dismissal. I brushed past him, feeling his gaze burning into my back. I found a butler and demanded to be taken to the Prince's quarters.
My heart began to pound against my ribs, louder than the clicking of my heels. I stood before the heavy double doors, and as they swung open, light flooded my vision.
A figure stood by the window—tall, imposing, and radiating a presence so heavy it felt like the air had been sucked out of the room. Just looking at him made my breath stop. He was a man who could suffocate a person just by standing in their space.
The Psychopath Prince.