A quiet breeze moved across the balcony but Ruelle barely felt it as she was too shocked to feel anything.
Her gaze shifted towards the prince's attendant. And he must have sensed it because his weary eyes lifted and met hers. Then he inclined his head a fraction, a quiet gesture of condolence like a fellow offering sympathy at a burial. As if to say he too was only another lamb trapped in the prince's world. And as quickly as it appeared, it vanished.
Before the situation could spiral further, Ruelle took a deep breath and addressed, "I would like to speak alone with you."
"Yes. Of course," Ezekiel nodded, already stepping forward and relieved that she wanted to discuss it. He turned to the prince and politely informed him, "Your Highness, Ruelle and I will discuss—"
"I meant with His Highness," Ruelle clarified politely.
Ezekiel froze mid-breath. Did she decide to be the prince's mistress?! Rage shot up his spine as he turned to her with a look of disbelief in his eyes.
