Walking toward the canopy bed where Alexander rested felt as though Elena were stepping on burning coals.
Every single inch of her body trembled violently.
The triumphant smirk carved onto the Crown Prince’s lips cut deeper than any sharp blade.
“Undress,” Alexander commanded dryly.
His voice was calm, casual, yet carried no room for refusal.
Without a word, her fingers cold and stiff as wood, Elena began unbuttoning her servant dress one by one.
The dried tears on her cheeks were replaced by a chilling sensation that crept across her skin as the drab fabric slid down, pooling at her feet.
She was left entirely naked and defenseless before the devil.
Alexander stared at her without blinking.
His blue eyes gleamed with a wild satisfaction as he drank in the complete ruin of the one thing he couldn’t buy with money or a throne.
He let his gaze wander over every curve of her form.
Just as he had anticipated, despite the scratches and bruises from endless days of hard labor, her body was the absolute pinnacle of his unique ideal—a dark, secret taste no one knew about, not even Elena herself.
Unlike other noblemen who worshipped slender women with thread-thin waists, Alexander’s ideal was precisely what Elena possessed: full-figured, voluptuous, pale-skinned, with adorable freckles dusting her cheeks, and a wild cascade of fiery red hair.
Even with her skin marred by Clementine’s cruelty, Alexander could still see the soft lushness beneath it.
Exactly as the men at Grand Duke Dracox’s estate often whispered, that if Elena hadn’t been so plump, she might have been the crown jewel of the empire.
But to Alexander, it was her plumpness that drove him mad with desire.
He would never let her grow thin; every inch of her soft, full curves was the very definition of perfection to him.
Alexander stroked his chin, savoring the fantasy brought to life.
He grinned, just about to pat the empty mattress beside him and order her closer–
Knock!
Knock!
A hurried knock broke the quiet room, followed by a sweet, forced voice from behind the heavy oak door.
“Your Highness…
It’s Clementine.
I brought a warm herbal brew to help heal the wound on your arm…”
The blood in Elena’s veins instantly ran cold.
Pure terror gripped her chest.
If Clementine–Alexander’s obsessive fiancée who routinely sought any excuse to sleep with him–saw her naked in this room, not only would Elena be flayed alive, but the threat against her father would be executed before dawn.
Alexander merely chuckled under his breath as Elena turned as pale as a corpse.
Without a hint of panic, he yanked her wrist and dragged her rough frame onto the bed, trapping her full-figured body beneath his own and burying them both under a heavy, gold-embroidered duvet.
“Keep silent, or your father dies tonight,” Alexander whispered directly against her ear, before raising his voice toward the door.
“Come in, Clementine.”
The door swung open, and Clementine stepped inside wearing a sheer, silk nightgown, flaunting her curves with utter confidence.
A sweet, seductive smile played on her lips as she approached the bed with a steaming cup in hand.
“I was worried your injury might keep you awake, Your Highness,” Clementine purred softly.
She set the cup on the nightstand and attempted to sit on the edge of the mattress, reaching out to touch his bare chest.
“Let me stay with you tonight…
and soothe your pain…”
Beneath the suffocating darkness of the duvet, Elena held her breath, her face pressed against Alexander’s bare chest.
She could feel the steady, unnaturally calm beat of his heart.
Her naked body trembled violently in such terrifying proximity to danger, flushed tight against his warm skin.
Alexander caught Clementine’s wrist softly yet firmly, stopping her before her fingers grazed his skin.
“I appreciate your concern, Clementine,” Alexander cut in, his cold tone wrapped in aristocratic politeness.
“However, my wound requires quiet rest tonight.
The royal physician gave me a potent draft, and I must sleep deeply.”
Clementine bit her lower lip, genuine disappointment clouding her face.
She glanced at the slightly rumpled bed, assuming the large bulge beneath the heavy blanket was merely a pile of pillows supporting his injured arm.
“Your Highness, I could massage your shoulders or keep you company,” Clementine offered, refusing to back down from her hidden agenda.
“I heard you suffer from insomnia, so I know how to handle it.
Whenever I can’t sleep, I listen to someone sing, share stories, or…
do other things.”
“Hmm…
What ‘other things’, Lady?” Alexander asked smoothly.
He was intentionally prolonging Elena’s agony under the duvet, thoroughly enjoying Clementine’s desperate attempts to seduce him.
Killing two birds with one stone–playing both women at the exact same time.
He deliberately fed Clementine a sliver of false hope.
“For example…
formalizing our relationship.”
Alexander feigned surprise.
“Ah, that…
What do you mean by that, Lady?
I’m afraid I don’t quite understand.”
Clementine took it as a flirtatious invitation.
“Well…
you know…” she purred, leaning closer to the bed in a deliberate, seductive sway.
“We could spend the night together…
becoming one.”
Alexander sat up slightly without revealing an inch of Elena.
He flashed a sweet, polite smile.
“Ah, I understand what you mean now, Lady.
But unfortunately, I truly just want a peaceful night’s sleep.”
“But, Your Highness…” Clementine pleaded, closing the distance between their faces.
“Leave the brew and return to your chamber, Clementine.
Don’t make me repeat myself.
I hold you in high regard, Lady,” Alexander stated, his tone leaving no room for argument.
With a frustrated sigh and a pout, Clementine finally surrendered.
“Very well…
Goodnight, Your Highness.
Sweet dreams.”
The clicking of Clementine’s heels receded down the hall, followed by the heavy thud of the door shutting tight and the key turning from the outside upon Alexander’s subtle signal to the guard.
Silence reclaimed the room.
With a slow, deliberate sweep of his hand, Alexander threw back the duvet.
The dim candlelight illuminated Elena’s trembling, naked body, drenched in cold sweat.
Tears welled in her eyes as she stared up at him in sheer, hopeless resignation.
Alexander smirked wickedly, his eyes dragging over every inch of her body, now entirely within his grasp.
His victory was absolute.
“Look at that…
What do you think Clementine would do to you if we got caught, my sweet Elena?”
A tear finally escaped her eye, awakening what little conscience Alexander possessed.
“Alright, alright.
No one will ever know–except for the two of us and my men.”
A small wave of relief washed over Elena, though the fear of what was to come still held her in a vice.
“Quite a thrilling little game, wasn’t it?” Alexander purred softly, his cold fingers trailing from her jawline down to her throat.
“Now…
let’s finish what we started, my little pig.”
Honestly not sure if I should keep updating, feels kinda quiet around here