The fever burning through my veins was nothing compared to the helpless, useless rage that consumed me. I just wanted to go home. They all had the same empty, perfect smiles, spouting the same boring small talk, and not one of them had noticed the walking, talking lie among them. How could they not know? Not even her own family. Not even the Crown Prince! How could they look at me, hear me speak, and not realize that I was total stranger wearing Sierra's skin? I couldn't help but think what a massive freak-out it would be if they ever found out the real Sierra was gone, and some random person was squatting in her body. The whole lying thing felt toxic, like it was slowly poisoning my insides.
I could feel a searing guilt for the life and the family I was basically stealing, for everything that was never mine to begin with.
"Are you alright, my dear?" The Duke spotted me across the room and immediately went to me. "Are you feeling unwell? Would you prefer to rest?" he asked again.
He must have seen the distress I was trying so hard to hide. He was about to escort me to the drawing room when an old man approached him.
"Does your daughter feel a bit faint, Duke Castillo?"
I could feel the man staring at me, but I was so dizzy I couldn't even look up. I just kept my eyes glued to the floor.
"She is a little indisposed, Your Majesty, and quite tired. She will take her rest for now," the Duke responded with a respectful bow. When I heard how the Duke addressed the old man, I slowly lifted my head. He had the same familiar green eyes and sharp features as the Crown Prince, just older, with a distinguished gray beard. The King.
Just great. Out of all the people who had to see me melting down, it had to be the literal King!
"If it should not be of too much bother, may I escort the lady to the guestroom myself, Duke? I believe you have an important matter to discuss with my father."
I flinched when I heard that voice. I'd literally just escaped him, and now he was back?
"If it is not an imposition upon Your Highness's time. It would be a great kindness were you to escort my daughter."
I was about to protest, but the Prince was already right there, offering his hand. Shutting down his offer now would be a major scene and raise way too many questions. I had zero choice but to take it.
We walked down the ridiculously long hallway in total silence, the only sound being the chaotic drumbeat of my own heart.
"Do your feet not feel the cold, my lady?" He finally broke the awful silence. His glance told me he was well aware of my barefoot state.
"I am quite well, Your Highness," I lied, even though my toes were numb and my whole body was shaking from the cold and sheer embarrassment.
I only relaxed when we finally stopped in front of a door. I figured it was some kind of lounge for tired guests. The Crown Prince opened it, and thank goodness, it was empty. I really did not need people wondering why the Crown Prince was with me instead of, you know, his actual fiancée.
"I thank Your Highness for your most gracious assistance, I shall not presume to keep you from the hall any longer." I expected him to leave right away, but he just stood there. My breath caught when he actually dropped to one knee in front of me. The gesture felt so wildly out of place. What if someone saw the Crown Prince in this position? My brain was already flashing a thousand scandalous headlines.
"Crown Prince, please, get up!"
He completely ignored me and pulled my satin slippers out from behind his back. Had he been carrying them the entire time?
"Not until your feet are warm," his gaze holding mine. "I didn't want you to risk a cold simply to avoid me."
"You... you carried them?"
He just gave me a small smile and extended his hand toward my feet. "May I?"
I couldn't bring myself to say no, so I just nodded. He gently slipped the shoes onto my feet. His touch was careful and surprisingly light.
"I am not sure what offense I gave, but I would beg your forgiveness. You wouldn't have fled if I hadn't done something to displease you."
I felt genuinely awful for running off like that. He hadn't said anything bad at all. If the real Sierra were here, she would be completely charmed by his kind gesture and words. But that was exactly why I was freaking out. Because I'm not the real Sierra, and he was being nice to the wrong person.
"Why are you being so kind to me?" The words escaped me before I could stop them. I wanted to snatch the words back. The question sounded childish, desperate, and completely unlike myself. I was not meant to feel this flustered, this vulnerable.
"Because kindness is not a transaction, my lady. It is a choice. Perhaps, it is one you have forgotten to make for yourself."
Mic drop.
His words hit me like a punch. It was like he was talking straight to the real me, not Sierra. I suddenly realized that no one had ever been a bigger jerk to me than I had been to myself. I'd been given this literal second chance, this whole new life, and all I'd done since landing here was wallow in the same old self-pity and doubt. No one had ever called me out on my own self-sabotage until now.
He smiled, like he was telling me it was okay and I didn't need to explain anything.
"Have a good rest, lady Sierra," His voice was soft. "A servant shall be standing outside, should you require anything at all." He finally stood up and adjusted his coat. He walked toward the doorway with his back to me, and I still couldn't find my voice.
"Thank you," I finally managed, the words a mere puff of air.
He paused right before stepping through the door. He didn't turn his body, only his head, just enough so I could see the sharp line of his profile and his strong jaw. I couldn't make out his expression.
After he left, all I could hear was the frantic and impossibly loud thumping of my own heart. It's a rhythm entirely new to me.
I don't know how long I was out, but it was the deepest, most peaceful sleep I'd had since arriving in this world. I couldn't tell if it was the wine, the lingering chill from walking barefoot, or maybe the genuinely comforting words from the Prince. I woke up when a hand, a little too firm to be gentle, shook my shoulder.
"You look quite comfortable," Soleil's sharp voice cut through my grogginess. "What are you doing here?"
"I felt a little faint," I explained before pushing myself up from the deep sofa cushions. "The wine, I think. I just needed to rest."
Her eyes scanned the room with a possessive intensity before it landed on me. "In the Crown Prince's private drawing-room?" The words weren't a question so much as an accusation.
"Is it? I had no idea. I thought it was for any guest. He just brought me here after Father got caught up with the King." I smoothed my rumpled dress.
"He?" Soleil's head tilted slightly. Her eyes traced the path from my face to the sofa, as if searching for a crime scene. "You mean the Crown Prince himself?"
I simply nodded, completely missing the loaded pause she'd given me. "Are we ready to go home now?"
Soleil didn't answer right away. She just stared at me. I shifted uncomfortably under her gaze. I seriously did not get what the problem was.
"Father informed me that we are to remain for three days, until the festivities have concluded. Our chambers have been prepared for us," she finally answered.
The heck? Before I could say anything else, the heavy oak doors opened, and the Duke walked in, followed by four maids.
"You are finally awake, my dear. How are you feeling?" He asked immediately as he walked towards me. His face was full of concern.
"I feel better now, Papa," I tried to smile to put him at ease. He touched my forehead, as if making sure I wasn't running a temperature.
"That is good. You must remember to thank the Crown Prince on the morrow for his kind assistance, is that understood?"
My eyes instantly flickered toward Soleil to see her reaction. Her face was now a perfect, unreadable mask of composure. A small smile was on her lips, but it didn't quite reach her eyes.
"I will, Papa."
The four maids, dressed in the crisp royal uniform, were introduced as our temporary staff for our stay. Two were assigned to me, and two to Soleil. They led us to our respective rooms, and as I stepped into mine, I was speechless. Everything screamed A-list luxury. From the heavy silk curtains to the intricate carvings on the furniture.
My new maids were efficient and silent, like a well-oiled machine. They helped me take off my gown and ridiculously tight corset. Then, I wore a delicate piece of silk that felt like air compared to the party dress. As soon as the last pin was out of my hair and I was tucked into the enormous, cloud-like bed.
My body just decided it was done. The whole day preparation, the fever, and the drama with the Prince caught up to me in a massive wave of fatigue. I barely registered the exquisite silk drapes or the soft lamplight before I was completely out.