Planning The Psychotic Prince's Demise

Unlike Rosewood Palace, the halls of Willowhold are well-lit, illuminated by a dozen crystal chandeliers. There's no more of that ominous atmosphere—promising gloom and tricky trap doors like in old Gothic movies.

In Willowhold, the trees become more magical when nighttime arrives, glowing purple as if they were enchanted. They likely are.

The palace is significantly smaller compared to Rosewood. There are less golden furniture, indicative of grandeur and luxury. There are less ballrooms for social events where, once more, nobles chatter about meaningless topics. More importantly, there are less places to hide.

Don't be fooled. I prefer it that way.

It's cozier here and, in a sense, safer.

For the first time in a long time, I let my shoulders sag. The tension escapes me, slowly bleeding onto the serene background. If Prince Cyrus was aiming to emit a welcoming atmosphere with the palace then he outdid himself.

The golden candlelight dances with the moonshine, creating an ambience that's capable of soothing even the most sleepless minds—and trust me, I've been sleepless.

Everything is in view here. Every vase, every painting, every flaw of the carpet, even the dullest eyes can catch.

It helps that the cat is with me. Felines, especially magical felines, tend to have better senses than ordinary humans. At least, equipped with a furry set of ears, that's what I'm assuming.

"Correct. However, it's important that you remain cautious."

Perhaps. But the palace appears harmless so far. You walk around and find a setting that's exactly like those exaggerated historical dramas.

Except, in the corner of the hall, awaits a shadow. It's eerily placed, big enough for at least one person to fit.

Prince Cryus is sneaky, conniving. I'm almost certain it's his doing. If that shadow isn't intentional, then nothing is.

Perhaps I'm being irrational, perhaps I'm being paranoid, I do sound like it, but there's something looming there and my feet take a slower pace the closer I come to it.

My arms tighten around the cat. I feel its fur stand in caution.

I'm four steps away. Three steps.

Nothing.

I sigh. Then I continue with my normal pace, anxiety alleviated. There are places to be, after all, like the library where my tool to assassinate my husband awaits.

"Princess."

My heart leaps out of my chest. "Fuck!"

There's a lean body that steps out of the shadows, head titled as if my reaction was unexpected—ironic, considering I was the one jumped.

Pale skin, slim arms, hair that rembles the darkest night from root to tip.

If I had to guess, Prince Florian.

"I'm afraid I don't know that word," He says with a weak voice. "Is it from the south?"

I shake my head, clenching my hand around my chest. "No. It's not. I apologize. You startled me."

"Oh," He looks a bit lost. "I did not mean to."

Prince Florian is more peculiar than I thought he would be. His mannerisms unsettle me. They're slow and uncertain, much like the game described, but experiencing the awkwardness firsthand puts me on edge.

"We should go." The cat urges, bumping its head against my torso. It's in a rush. For once, I agree with it.

"I have to excuse myself, your highness. I'm afraid I have something urgent to attend to." I bow to show respect. Prince Florian, despite being unsettling, is still a prince, after all.

"Are you perhaps heading to the library?" He asks.

Caught.

I'm not sure if this is the time to entertain side quests, considering the transaction I'm about to have. But then again, lying might arouse more suspicion than necessary.

The cat sighs. It says nothing.

This is my call.

"Yes," I smile, lips forced into an upwards curve. "I happen to be heading to the library."

"Th– that's great!" He exclaims, mood shifting uncomfortably fast. "In that case, would it be fine to accompany you?"

That's unexpected.

His intentions seem unclear. Not enough conversation has been exchanged for me to make conclusions.

Perhaps he's looking for a friend, which is endearing, but the situation I'm in doesn't allow me to act casually around just anyone. Should I turn him down?

"Uh."

"Accept his offer."

What? Now that's a surprise after surprise. The cat was rushing moments ago.

"It's the best course of action."

It truly isn't. But those purple eyes look at me with conviction and I can't find it in myself to refuse Florian in his pathetic state.

So, hours away from midnight, a magical stray, a bandaged princess, and an awkward prince find themselves walking towards a luxurious library together. The silence is more suffocating than it is comfortable.

Once inside, I begin formulating excuses. Perhaps Prince Florian will be distracted by the books and I can sneak away.

Unfortunately, he starts, "My lady, would it be rude perhaps to ask a personal question?"

"That depends on the nature of the question." I answer the best I can. "However, I don't find myself easily offended if that is what you're asking."

"I see." He notes, face unusually flushed.

Florian tends to avoid eye contact, but this time, he's not even facing my direction. I turn to the cat. It nods before leaping away from my arms, running to a part of the library I can't see.

"Then perhaps it would be alright to ask you lady questions?"

"Lady questions?" I turn to Florian with a raised brow. "What could those possibly entail, your highness?"

His eyes widen, neck and ears concerningly red. "Well, not lady questions, I apologize if that seems inappropriate. I simply mean to ask about your handmaid."

My mouth opens in a circle. "Aurelia?"

"Yes." He toys with his fingers, avoiding my gaze. Seems like the name struck the right chord. "Aurelia."

This is an ideal development. If Prince Florian's interest has been piqued, then that means his route is likely to be triggered. That ensures that him and Aurelia will end up together.

Good. His story was fairly harmless, if I remember correctly. It didn't involve as many casualties as Valerius', that's for sure.

I could gurantee this, maybe even advance it. It's an adorable idea—the epitome of constant rain falling for a ball of sunshine.

Prince Florian and Princess Aurelia.

"Ask away, your highness." The grin that forms on my face can't be hidden. "I'd be honored to be of aid."

He nods. "Well, I would like to inquire about Miss Aurelia's interests. We didn't get to discuss much the last encounter we had."

"The last encounter?" I hum. "I wasn't aware you two have met."

As for interests, there's a lot I know about Aurelia, from playing Black Rose and knowing her personally.

"Oh, yes. We bumped into each other somewhere in the library." Florian recalls, voice meek. There's clearly more to the story, but I don't probe, lest it makes him uncomfortable.

"I see. Well, where to start..."