❥SARAH ❥

I wake up feeling a bit wobbly, and as soon as my feet hit the floor, I feel this heavy weight dragging me down. I look around the room, trying to remember where I am, and then it hits me—I'm still at the palace.

I stumble across the room, hoping a splash of water on my face will help. But when I catch sight of myself in the mirror, I freeze.

I look like a zombie. My hair is a wild mess, one earring is hanging on for dear life, my eyes are dull, and my lips bear the marks of passionate encounters. The hickies have turned an unpleasant shade of purple.

A sinking feeling washes over me. It wasn't just a dream. I whisper to myself, realizing that last night actually happened. I touch the hickies on my neck, confirming the reality. My dress is disheveled, and a memory flashes through my mind—a sentence he said suddenly popped up.

'I want to fuck those lips with my cock, Sarah'

"Fuck!" I can't help but curse out loud. How could I be so foolish? I did something with him, maybe not sex, but still, it was something. I cover my face with my hands, berating myself for my lack of judgment.

I lift my head and approach the mirror, my fingers grazing my lips as I recall his touch and the intensity of our kiss. A strong desire pulses through me as I remember that I didn't wear anything beneath this dress.

I hear his voice in my mind, commanding me to be free. I shouldn't still be yearning for this, but I fucking do and that was against the contract.

I tugged at my hair, my frustration evident as I muttered, "If Alex finds out..."

Suddenly, a knock on the door startled me. It was Alex, calling my name from the other side.

Why does everything have to happen to me?

"I'm up!" I called out, hastily hiding the empty bottle under the sheets and rushing to the bathroom. I discarded my gown and immersed myself in the bathtub, hoping the foam would conceal the evidence of my hickies.

Alex entered the bathroom with a forced smile. "Good morning," she greeted.

"Good morning," I replied, noticing her change of clothes. Suppressing a laugh, I asked, "What are you wearing?"

Annoyed, she groaned and walked towards the bathroom mirror. "Christopher has teased me enough, and now you."

Why did she have to mention his name? The guilt flooded over me.

"Come on, it's not that bad..." I trailed off, examining her attire. She was wearing a matching purple top and a straight skirt, resembling the secretaries in corporate offices. "...just different."

She scoffed. "Chris said the same thing."

Ah,Great. Now we think alike. How wonderful.

"R...Really?" I managed to say, attempting to keep a straight face.

"Yeah, but forget about me. You must be regretting it, right?" Her frown deepened.

"Uh, regretting what?" I blurted out, my heart pounding with fear.

"The dinner yesterday was something," she remarked.

Oh, the dinner.

"I wouldn't say it was that bad," I leaned back, my toes playing in the water as I continued, "I would say it was peculiar."

"Peculiar my ass, it was fucking awful, and that stunt Chris pulled was completely uncalled for," her anger transformed her gentle expression. "I mean, does he always have to take charge? I specifically told him no sexual contact, except if necessary, like today's occasion." She sighed, pinching her nose in frustration.

"What's happening today?" I interjected, attempting to change the topic.

She raised her head. "I didn't tell you?" I shook my head. "I'm so sorry, Sarah. I've been preoccupied with royal matters. We're going to announce your arrival and your position as Chris's future wife."

I remembered now. Christopher had mentioned the press trying to ascertain the authenticity of our relationship. The thought of them discovering my true identity and the other things I wished to forget made my body grow hot.

"I hope you're okay with crowds." Damn it, Alex was still here! And I was fantasizing about her brother.

I'm going straight to hell.

"Not a problem. I'll be fine. I mean, how hard can it be?" I forced a smile, trying to remain positive. Although she still seemed uncertain, she stayed silent and nodded.

"Okay then," she breathed a sigh of relief. "I should get going while you prepare." I nodded, and she smiled before heading out. However, she stopped at the door. "Oh, do you need me to ask the maids to find an outfit for the occasion, or..."

"I've got it covered," I replied confidently. This time, I was prepared to be suffocated by another outfit. "I think I have just the right attire for this."

She smirked, nodding in approval. "Okay then. Can't wait to see it. Later, girl." She winked and closed the door, leaving me to sigh and sink back into the water, holding my breath as I contemplated how to act when I would see Christopher again.

I quickly got dressed and applied makeup to my neck to conceal the marks from last night. Just to be safe, I chose a cream turtleneck gown that felt slightly tight but not as uncomfortable as the one from the dinner.

Leaving my room, I wandered around, searching for the dining area. I hoped to act as if nothing had happened in front of Christopher.

The answer seemed simple: pretend like nothing happened and, if necessary, kick him in the balls.

Okay, just act like nothing happened.

An elderly man dressed in a black suit and trousers greeted me. "Good morning, Miss Sarah," he bowed respectfully.

"My name is Alfred, and I will be escorting you to the dining table for breakfast."

"Oh," I replied, following his lead. As we walked, I couldn't help but dislike the color scheme of the hall—everything was gray and black, reminiscent of a Dracula castle coming to life.

Alfred opened the door, revealing the same dining table from yesterday. My mind couldn't help but wander back to the kiss, even though I had resolved to pretend it never happened.

"Your food has been served, Miss Sarah," Alfred announced.

"Just Sarah is fine, Sir," I replied, feeling uncomfortable with everyone calling me "Miss."

"It's a custom, Miss Sarah. I apologize," he explained, standing a short distance away.

I sighed and didn't say anything further. Looking at my plate, I noticed a typical breakfast meal of eggs and bacon, but there were also some vegetables next to it, which seemed out of place.

"Um, where is everyone?" I asked Alfred.

"The royal family is busy preparing for your arrival, so you won't be seeing them at the moment," he replied.

"Even Christopher," I blurted out his name, even though I had resolved not to mention it.

Alfred turned to me, and for a brief moment, I thought I detected a hint of amusement in his eyes before he looked straight ahead. "Prince Christopher is actually waiting for you, but he insisted you eat first before seeing him."

"Why does he want to see me?" I asked slowly, my body tense with anticipation.

"I have no idea, but he is currently in the dressing chamber, waiting for you," Alfred informed me.

"Well, I'm finished eating," I said, getting up from the table and walking towards Alfred, who didn't seem surprised by my sudden decision. "Let's go see him, then."

So much for avoiding him. It seemed like I was practically throwing myself at him.

"Right this way," Alfred said, sounding like a proper butler, which he probably was.

I followed him until we reached a different door. I had assumed he meant Christopher's room when he mentioned the dressing chamber, but apparently, it was a separate room altogether.

There was so much for me to learn.

"You may enter," Alfred gestured towards the door, indicating that I should go in. I felt a sense of unease for no apparent reason.

Ignoring the voice in my head urging me to leave and find Alex, I opened the door and found myself feeling puzzled.

Christopher was standing on a raised platform, focusing on a full-body mirror while a tailor measured the suit he was wearing. He seemed serious, his hair styled in a way befitting a prince, yet there was a hint of boredom in his eyes.

"Ahem," I coughed, standing upright with my back against the door, folding my hands and trying to maintain a serious expression. "You look sharp."

I couldn't resist teasing him.

He turned around, ignoring the tailor and focusing solely on me. The corner of his lips lifted, making him look stunning in his suit. "I do my best," he replied.

This guy.

I bit my lip, suppressing a laugh. "You called for me," I got straight to the point. "Do you want to discuss the press and their questions? I might have some ideas—"

"Sure, I'll listen to them," he cut me off, walking towards a desk and holding two different ties. "But first, choose one."

"Choose? I don't understand—" I began.

"Come on, babe, I need you to decide for me," he interrupted, raising an eyebrow. My eyes widened, and I almost opened my mouth, but I reminded myself that the tailor was still present, and we were still pretending to be involved.

"Of course, honey," I said, holding myself. "Pick the yellow one."

"But I'm wearing a gray suit," he replied, raising an eyebrow.

"It suits your hair," I shrugged.

"But my hair is dark."

"Exactly," I enjoyed the confusion on his face and wanted to say more, but he spoke.

"I think you should leave," I thought he meant me, but then I realized he was looking at the tailor, who stood there like a statue. "Now," his voice carried the sternness of his father, and it didn't sit well with me.

I felt a pang of discomfort as I watched Christopher dismiss the tailor so abruptly. The poor man hurriedly gathered his things and left without saying a word. As soon as the door was shut, I couldn't hold back any longer.

"Could you be any more polite?" I lashed out at him, placing my hands on my hips. "Don't you royals learn etiquette in that regard?"

"Etiquette, you say?" His voice took on a sinister tone, causing a shiver to run down my spine. "I should be more polite, you say?" he repeated my words, tossing the ties he held to the side of the room. However, I didn't care to wonder where they landed, as I felt like prey under his intense gaze. Strangely, I found myself loving it.

"O... Of course," I stammered, slowly moving backward, my hand searching for the doorknob to make my escape.

"Coming from the girl who left me hard and had to take care of it in the shower, is that what you call polite, Sarah?" His words hung in the air, causing my breathing to become slow and heavy. Each step he took towards me made my feet feel frozen, even though every instinct screamed at me to run away.

He approached me deliberately, trapping me between him and the door. His gaze lowered, fixating on my lips, and I couldn't resist licking them, which only seemed to darken his eyes further. "You talk about etiquette and politeness, yet you initiated this by walking in here, dressed as if you wanted to be fucked by me."

"I have no idea what you're talking about," I replied, attempting to hide my unease.

He let out a deep chuckle, causing my heart to skip a beat. Startled, I felt his hand on my hip, gradually moving until it reached my backside, pressing me firmly against him. I could feel his hardness against my thigh. "Do you remember now what I'm talking about?"

At that moment, I wished I had simply finished my meal.