Chapter 129
Chapter 129
Priscilla waited another half hour, but as dusk began to fall, she finally lost her patience and strode straight up to the gates of Waldo House
No one stopped her.
Everyone knew she was Waldo’s beloved; who would dare stand in her way?
But oddly enough, the lack of resistance only fueled her anger. “What’s the meaning of this?” she snapped, “Why hasn’t Waldo come out to see me yet?”
The two guards at the gate exchanged nervous glances before one of them stammered, “Miss, His Highness… he doesn’t know you’re waiting”
Priscilla’s face darkened in fury. “Didn’t you even bother to report it? What are you,
“I’ve been pacing here for half a day! How could he not know? corpses?”
The two guards looked thoroughly aggrieved.
But she wasn’t exactly a guest either–if she wanted to go inside, who were they to stop her? She could have walked in anytime she pleased. Why did they need to announce her arrival?
Still, Priscilla had a reputation for being proud and difficult. Who dared to argue with her?
“I’ll go report to His Highness right away,” one of them said hastily, bolting through the gates.
Moments later, he returned, looking even more uneasy. “His Highness says… you’re free to go wherever you please.”
Priscilla’s blood boiled. “That bastard,” she spat. “He’s really pushing it now.”
Seething, she stormed through the gates, heading straight toward Moonlight Manor.
When she saw the elegant plaque hanging over the entrance, bearing the words “Moonlight Manor,” her rage exploded.
Without thinking, she snatched the sword from a nearby guard’s side, sprang upward, and–with a sharp crack–split the plaque cleanly in two.
Not satisfied, she leapt down, kicked the broken pieces viciously, stomping on them over and over until the sharp movements tore at her still–healing wounds, leaving her gasping and pale with pain.
Waldo rushed out at the commotion–only to see Priscilla standing there, wild–eyed, grinding the shattered plaque beneath her boots.
“Priscilla,” he breathed. Seeing her still wearing the bloodstained clothes from the day she was injured made his chest tighten with a sharp pang. Instinctively, he moved to approach her.
But then he remembered the cold determination with which she had nearly accepted Davon’s invitation–and his steps faltered.
A wave of bitter resentment surged in his heart.
“What the hell is this supposed to mean?” Priscilla flung the sword aside with a clatter and strode toward him, her voice shaking with fury. “I waited half the day for you, and you didn’t even bother to show your face. Is this it? You really don’t want me anymore? If you didn’t want me, why go through all the trouble to drag me back from Sandspire? Was it just some sick joke to you?”
“You… you waited for me?” Waldo said, stunned, his heart lifting despite himself. “But… weren’t you with Davon…”
“That was to spite you!” she shot back, tears glimmering in her eyes as she glared at him. “If you hadn’t kept siding with Jessica and Garbisch to me, would I have needed to play games like that just to get your attention?”
“You really just did it to make me angry? You’re not… interested in Davon?” Waldo’s heart, which had felt cold and dead these past few days, suddenly fluttered back to life.
1/2
Chapter 129
Priscilla sniffed, folding her arms. “Of course it was just to piss you off, Sure, Prince Davon’s been flattering me shamelesely, but do you copy th the kind of woman who hops from man to man? You’ve known me all these years. In your eyes, am I no better than Jessica?
Everyone knew the scandal Jessica had barely broken off her engagement with Waldo before throwing herself at Leon, and had been teen clinging to him openly at the Martial Tournament.
The gossip had been everywhere; even Priscilla had heard it.
Fortunately, Prince Leon was notoriously ugly—a man whose face had been horrifically scarred.
Serves her right, Priscilla thought viciously. A slut paired with a monster. Truly a match made in hell.
At the thought of Leon’s hideous face–completely unworthy even to touch Waldo’s shadow–Priscilla finally felt the knot of rage and resentment in her chest begin to loosen.
‘In the end,‘ she thought coldly, Jessica will never measure up to me. Her fate is sealed. She’ll spend the rest of her life shackled to a disfigured wretch, with no hope of ever rising again.‘
