Chapter 52
Everyone froze in their tracks and turned around, all eyes fixed on Deborah. They thought, ‘Is Prince Damian really going to carry Princess Deborah?‘
It suddenly hit them. When Damian and Deborah had arrived earlier, Deborah had been limping. If she had actually walked all the way from the bottom of the cliff at that slow pace, it would have taken her until morning to return.
They thought, ‘Did that mean Damian carried her the whole way?‘
Feeling the weight of all those curious and speculative gazes, Deborah stiffened. She released Damian’s sleeve and glanced at him.
Earlier, while Nigel had pushed Gwendolyn away, Deborah had clearly seen that he truly cared for her. He just didn’t want to show The more indifferent he appeared, the more he actually cared.
But now, Damian was being so openly affectionate toward her… She thought, ‘Is he trying to provoke a confrontation?”
Deborah felt a strange mix of emotions but simply spoke quietly, her tone cold. “There’s no need. I’ll ride back on my own.”
Her voice was distant, and when Damian looked at her, he could feel the resistance and emotional distance she was projecting.
Damian’s gaze darkened slightly, clearly displeased with her withdrawal. With a wave of his hand, he coldly ordered, “Take her back.”
He then mounted his horse and, to everyone’s surprise, led the way.
Thomas quickly approached, holding a horse. “Princess Deborah, please.”
Deborah cast a brief glance at Gwendolyn, who was still lying on the ground.
Thomas spoke again, “She ambushed you. His Highness said it’s up to you to decide what happens to her.”
“Take her back to Nigel’s Manor.”
With Thomas’s help, Deborah mounted her horse, but she couldn’t help but look back at Gwendolyn once more./
Gwendolyn was still watching her, and for some reason, that glance made Deborah feel a sense of quiet sorrow.
any
weakness./
She wondered, ‘Is this really the fate of a woman at the side of a royal man? A man might indulge you, but he would never love you. You might be a little important to him, but compared to power and influence, your importance is nothing.’
Deborah turned her gaze away and rode off.
Gwendolyn was taken back to Nigel’s Manor.
That night, Nigel came to see her.
But something in Gwendolyn’s eyes had dimmed, as if the usual spark had gone out.
“Still angry?” Nigel stared at her, his expression full of complexity.
“I wouldn’t dare.” Gwendolyn lowered her eyes, avoiding his gaze,
Nigel sighed softly, the sound almost imperceptible. “I thought by now, after all these years, you would understand me.”
“So, does that mean I don’t understand you now, Your Highness?” Gwendolyn whispered, her voice laced with quiet pain.
Nigel looked at her, his lips parted as if to speak, but he stopped short.
Gwendolyn, seeing his hesitation, finally calmed her anger. “I understand now. The more you show that you care, the more dangerous it becomes. Damian will use me to threaten you.”
She bit her lip, staring at his handsome face. “I’m sorry, I just… feel a little hurt.”
Nigel moved toward her and gently pulled her into his embrace, holding her as if she were the most precious thing in the world. “You understand me well enough.”
“Then…” Gwendolyn lifted her head to look at him, her voice barely above a whisper. “Do you think Damian cares for that Deborah?”
“Probably just a fleeting distraction,” Nigel replied dismissively. “If he really cared, he wouldn’t be so open about it.”
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Chapter 52
He seemed indifferent. “There’s no need to waste any more thought on that woman.”
Gwendolyn nodded quietly, “Yes.”
*
20
Back at the manor, Deborah immediately had Zyla prepare a hot bath for her. For the rest of the night, she locked herself in her room, refusing to see anyone–not even Zyla.
Outside, she glanced toward Skyrift Hall. She couldn’t see what it looked like now, but she couldn’t help wondering what Simon was doing.
She thought, ‘Is being a woman tied to a royal man always destined for tragedy? Gwendolyn is pitiful, but am I any different? What secrets does Simon have? Why has he been avoiding me all this time?
‘Am I doomed to a life of waiting? As time passed, would I still remember all the little moments I shared with Simon? Why, now that I think about it, did all those memories seem to be filled with… Damian’s face?
‘Even the way Simon smiled, the way he frowned—they both seem so familiar, as if they could have been Damian’s expressions!
Deborah felt confused. What had once been a clear and distinct memory now seemed muddled. ‘If Damian were just a little gentler, a little more open, with a warmer smile, would he be just like the Simon I remember?‘
She drifted into a troubled sleep.
The next morning, Zyla hurried in, looking flustered and anxious. “My lady, they… they want to see you!”
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