Chapter 41: Unpleasant mory
The Crown Prince observed Damien’s face turn red with genuine embarrassnt and furrowed his eyebrows. Although there was no way he could confirm Lady Ashter’s story to be true, the duke had never expressed even the slightest interest in Rosalie or any other noble lady. Therefore, the sudden marriage proposal combined with an intricate blooming romance story did not sit quite right with him.
’The Rosalie Ashter known to high society is a timid and introverted person, frightened by her brother, and looked down upon by everyone else. Apart from her outstanding beauty, there is absolutely nothing she can offer, yet... The two of them want
to buy their far-fetched romantic charade. What kind of ga are you both trying to play?’
He fixed his cold azure eyes on Rosalie’s smiling face as she kept talking to Angelica, then leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms in front of his chest. He did not an to leave her alone just yet.
"Say, Lady Rosalie. Do you rember that one incident that happened with Angelica in the Temple eleven years ago? That ti when she got her ankle scarred."
"Brother!"
It was now Angelica’s turn to interject, but Rosalie had already caught on to Loyd’s true intentions. Just as she suspected, for so unknown reason, he was wary of her and found it necessary to put her through so sort of bizarre mory test. Therefore, she simply placed her hand on top of the Princess’s knee and offered her brother a confident smile.
"Yes, Your Highness, unfortunately, that incident will be engraved in my mory forever as I still consider it my fault that Her Highness Princess Angelica was injured that day."
Loyd rubbed his chin with his fingers and lted into a sowhat satisfied grin.
"Really? And why is that?"
The girl looked down at her empty teacup and recalled the passage from the novel that described how Angelica got her scar – the only blemish on her otherwise perfect body which she chose not to remove as a form of internal protest; it was a reminder of the painful consequences of her own choice.
She then shifted her eyes back to the Prince’s face and replied in a serious voice,
"Because I was the one who told her to climb that tree."
"Loyd, seriously, it was not that bad!"
Angelica chid in, trying to lighten the mood, but the Prince ordered her to keep quiet with a swift gesture of his hand and turned back to Lady Ashter.
"So what exactly happened back there? As you can see, my dear sister refuses to share the details, but I’m afraid that my curiosity is getting the best of ."
Rosalie decided to oblige him, especially since she still rembered that story perfectly well.
"Uhm... It happened during one of my early visits to the Temple. Her Highness Princess Angelica was given permission to go outside, so we decided to go to the flower garden and make flower crowns out of yellow dandelions because they are Angelica’s favorite flowers."
The next part of the story, however, skipped right to the mont that led to Angelica’s injury. Therefore, even though she knew she would be risking being caught up in a lie, Rosalie had no choice but to take a gamble and lie anyway.
"I wandered off in search of more flowers when I heard Her Highness calling my na. As I returned, Angelica was standing under the oak tree, holding a tiny bird in her hand and pointing at the bird’s nest on one of the branches."
At first, I wanted to tell her to leave it. After all, there was no telling if the bird would survive anyway. However, upon seeing that desperate, pitiful look in her eyes, I could not help it – she always knew how to get what she wanted with that look of hers.
But when it ca to deciding who was going to climb the tree to put the nestling back, I told Angelica to do it without hesitation."
Rosalie had to stop and take a deep breath. For so unknown reason, she began to feel a strange feeling of panic mixed with suffocating sorrow, as if she was actually reliving those mories once again.
Confused and even scared by that sudden flood of emotions, the girl closed her eyes in an attempt to calm her mind. Even though she felt like her head was about to explode from the overwhelming mixture of emotions, she made a choice to finish her story.
"When... Princess Angelica successfully put the bird back into the nest, she was about to get down, but the branch underneath her feet snapped, resulting in her falling down and scraping her right ankle on a sharp wooden stump."
As Rosalie finished the story, she finally raised her head, offering him a sowhat pained look, to which he responded with a long, silent pause, only to end up lting into another sly grin in the end. The man was clearly an indecipherable enigma.
"Indeed, I now feel bad for bringing up such a painful mory. However, I am still glad that even after all these years, Lady Rosalie still harbors the recollections of her past relationships, regardless of their emotional value."
Although Rosalie was happy that she managed to retell the story in the sa way it was rembered by its characters, Loyd’s reaction was still filled with hostile negativity, as if her rembering the past so well seed utterly unnatural to him.
’What exactly is he trying to achieve? Does he really suspect
of being a fake?’
"Loyd! You have been rude to Rosalie this whole ti! Enough is enough. We did not gather today to reevaluate our mories, and in all fairness, you were not even invited in the first place!"
Angelica pouted her lips and turned around to face Lady Ashter, her face distorted with a sowhat guilty expression.
"Forgive my brother, Rosalie. He spent too much ti surrounded by dusty books and rigid old scholars, and apparently, he still forgot to learn so basic manners."
Rosalie nodded her head and offered her friend an understanding smile. She had decided not to pay any more attention to the Crown Prince for the rest of their eting. While Loyd did apologize for his rather rude behavior and even suggested a sowhat pleasant change of the subject, no matter how hard the girl tried to ignore that suffocating feeling of discomfort lingering deep inside her chest, the Prince’s occasional piercing glances from underneath his rye-colored eyebrows felt like stinging burn marks on her fair skin.
Rosalie could only pray that she would not be burnt to a crisp by the end of the tea ti.
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