𝟎𝟑. 𝐀 𝐑𝐨𝐲𝐚𝐥 𝐌𝐞𝐬𝐬

“Verity!” one of the royals—a handsome prince with chiselled features, silky black hair, and piercing red eyes—gasped. He was immediately at Verity’s side, pulling her into his arms.

“Lucien,” she breathed, weakly placing her hand on his arm.

He gently stroked her hair, murmuring, “Sh, I’m here now, love.” Lucien then turned to one of the servants who had entered. “Xenia, call the Royal Doctor,” he ordered before turning back to his wife.

“Your Majesty,” one of the guards said cautiously, “What do we do with her?” Cassie struggled as the guard roughly pushed her forward while keeping a firm grip on her right arm. “She was the only one in the room when we entered and was crouched suspiciously beside the princess. She is also wearing, what we believe, to be one of the princess’ dresses which happens to be stained with royal blood. My men have searched the room for any signs of a break-in, but none were found.”

“Look, I-” Cassie started, but the guard covered her mouth. “Don’t address them until they’ve addressed you,” he warned, tightening his grip on her arm. Cassie wanted to bite his hand and tell him not to touch her like that, but she was at their mercy so she couldn’t do anything except obey him.

“Thank you, Gabriel,” Lucien said calmly. However, Cassie met his eyes, they were filled with white-hot rage. He gave her a lethal glare before turning back to Verity. “Now where’s the bloody Royal Doctor? Verity doesn’t have much time left.”

“He’s here,” a round, middle-aged man panted as he ran into the room. “Sorry, Your Majesties, but I was held up with Lady Priya. She fell off the Quartz Dragon,” the doctor explained as he followed Lucien, who was carrying the unconscious Verity to their bed.

Lady Priya? As in Lady Priyanka of the Kisha Dynasty? She fell off the Quartz Dragon?

Cassie’s eyes lit up as she figured out which part of The Race for His Heart she was in. Lady Priya’s accident happened two days before the Festival of Eros, a competition where five candidates competed for Prince Henry’s heart.

As the doctor tended to Verity, an older royal with white-blonde hair and green eyes, whom she recognised as King Arthur, stepped towards her. “Who are you?” he demanded.

“I-I’m Ca-Cassandra,” she answered, cursing herself for stuttering. “Cassandra Thomas.”

“Where are you from?”

Cassie hesitated, remembering Verity’s earlier reaction. “Ms Thomas, please do understand that we don’t have all day to wait for you to think of an excuse,” said Queen Genuivere.

“Earth,” Cassie said quietly.

Some of the royals and guards gasped in shock while others outright protested against her answer. One of the princes, Jacob, shouted, “Liar! The portals to Earth have been closed since the Dark Ages. Pisces, Scorpio, and Cancer permanently shut them all with the help of the Primordial Council to prevent the Darkness from using the Earthlings to aid them should they rebel again.”

“Well, then someone must’ve opened them again,” Cassie answered defiantly. How else did she end up here unless someone had reopened one of the portals? “And who the hell are Pisces, Scorpio and Cancer? What’s this council that everyone’s talking about? What’s going on?”

“Enough,” King Arthur said sharply, his face devoid of any emotion. What he said next made her blood run cold.

“Gabriel, take her away,” he commanded. “We shall deal with her tonight at dinner, in front of the entire court.” His face softened as he turned to Lucien. “Do you think you’ll be there, son?”

Lucien nodded. “I will, Father. I need to ensure that this girl is properly punished.” He looked down at his unconscious wife, brushing a lock of hair out of her pale face. “For Verity.”

“Wait, no,” Cassie protested as Gabriel, the guard who had been holding on to her the entire time, dragged her out of the bedroom. “Please! I can explain! It was an accident! I didn’t mean to-”

The doors slammed shut behind her, cutting her off. Cassie slumped in defeat as the guards took her down to the dungeons. This wasn’t how she had thought things would go and it seemed like everything she did or said just ended up making things worse for herself.

She let out a cry of pain as she was thrown into a small cell, the metal bars slamming shut behind her. At least the dungeons were dry and well-cleaned and didn’t smell that bad. However, that didn’t stop the dread and helplessness coursing through her veins as the key turned in the lock. That was it. She was going to die.