Chapter 23
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Rumor had it that Deborah had offended Damian–and now she was paying the price. Word’spread fast among the palace maids and officials. While everyone else was eating and drinking, she was the only one sitting on the floor. That was right–on the floor. She didn’t even have the right
to a seat.
Deborah had lost count of how many times she’d silently stared at the feast in front of her and sighed. She was starving.
Yes, the day’s hunt had ended in disaster–some guards had died, and a few noble girls had been injured–but in the world of the royal court, such things barely caused a ripple. A few casualties weren’t enough to pause the festivities.
After returning from the hunting grounds, the group had headed straight for a banquet at the royal lodge. It might not be as extravagant as the palace, but it had everything one could ask for.
Servants bustled about, the food was plentiful, and the dishes–especially the grilled meats and fine wine–were just as lavish as anything served in the palace. With today’s successful hunt, the tables were stacked with fresh game, cooked to perfection.
Deborah’s stomach growled again, loud enough to make her wince. She pressed a hand to it.
“So… Your Highness,” she said in a pitiful voice, “how’s your leg feeling?”
Damian didn’t even look at her.
She sighed to herself and kept kneeling beside him, massaging his leg like a servant. She was his sister–in–law, a princess–and yet here she was, not only denied a seat, but forced to serve him like a maid. It was beyond humiliating.
She didn’t even care about the embarrassment anymore. She was just really hungry. And with so many people watching, enjoying the show, she knew no one was going to speak up for her. She’d offended Damian–so of course, this was her punishment.
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“Damian, a toast to you,” said Luisa, hobbling over with a cup of wine. Her leg still hadn’t fully healed.
Damian gave her a disinterested glance but didn’t take the cup. Instead, his gaze shifted down–to Deborah, still kneeling beside him.
“Did you not see someone just offered me a toast?”
“I saw,” Deborah muttered under her breath.
She wasn’t blind. She thought, ‘What is the point of calling me out? Is he trying to humiliate me more?”
“Then why aren’t you pouring me a drink?” he asked, frowning.
Deborah nearly rolled her eyes. She thought, ‘There are two palace maids standing just behind him–why isn’t he asking them? No, he is doing this on purpose. He wants to make me suffer.‘
“Fine.” She sighed and slowly pushed herself to her feet, using his leg as support.
She didn’t notice the sudden change in the air.
Everyone around her froze. All eyes snapped to her in disbelief. For a moment, the entire room went silent.
They thought, “She has just used Prince Damian’s leg–as support–to stand up. That Prince Damian. The one famous for being untouchable, merciless, and ice–cold toward women. And she has the nerve to use his leg like a walking stick?‘
The noble girls watched with wide eyes, waiting–expecting–him to strike her, or at the very least throw her across the room. But… nothing happened.
He kept eating, completely unfazed. As if this was normal. As if this was how things always were between them. ‘What the hell?‘
Why? Maybe it was because Simon loved and trusted Damian so much–so unconditionally–that she’d come to respect and trust him too. It was a strange feeling, but it was real. She couldn’t dislike him.
Deborah stood up and slowly poured him a cup of wine.
She glanced at the grilled meat on the table and, despite herself, couldn’t hold back any longer. In a small voice, she murmured, “Your Highness… I’m kind of hungry.”
And she really was. She’d been with the Queen Mother all morning, barely eaten anything for lunch, and then had been thrown into the chaos at the hunting grounds.
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Chapter 23
Now it was late into the night, and the only thing in her stomach was a few sour berries. How could she not be hungry?
Luisa’s expression soured. Her voice was sharp. “If you’re hungry, Princess Deborah, why don’t you go eat? There are plenty of seats available.”
There were open spots. So Luisa thought, ‘Why is Deborah still hovering around the prince?‘
But Deborah’s
eyes lit up.
She thought, ‘Finally, someone said it.’
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Even if Luisa clearly didn’t mean well, it didn’t matter–she’d given Deborah an out. Whether it came from spite or sympathy, Deborah would take
- it.
“Then… Your Highness, I’ll just-” Deborah started.
“Go where?” Damian’s voice cut her off coldly, his brows drawing together. “Did I say you could leave?”
