Kace Holland

My head pounded from my conversation with Odaya earlier. It was no secret that our relationship was hanging onto a thread; for God's sake, the woman kidnapped me.

If the interviewer brought up the rumors, what would I say? I hated speaking to the press, anyway.

"What are some of the new policies you plan to instate in the next few months?" the interviewer asked, readying himself to jot my reply.

Princess Senna adjusted herself. From the way her eyes narrowed and her grin grew visible, I knew she was going to use my answer against me. Glaring back, I said, "Donate to the monasteries and keeping the faith of Entorrean's high during such a dark time. I'm sure you're aware of the Dark Faeries."

She tugged the bottom of her jacket and huffed. I had the nerve to get Mallor to tie her up in a box and drop her into the ocean.

"Many Entorreans have noticed you don't celebrate Saints' Day, Prince Kace," the interviewer commented, flipping to the back of his paper. "Care to elaborate?"

I shouldn't need to explain myself to a lowlife who would never understand, but apparently I couldn't say things like that. Instead, I sat straight and spoke. "Are you asking about my religious beliefs?"

"I suppose I am." He tilted his head. "I mean, Entorre's royals have always believed in the Saints, so it would be rather shocking if you went against it."

"I don't believe a person can save us like the Saints. They're the same people that started these problems, yes?"

"So you don't believe in the Entorrean religion?"

"Are you saying a religion belongs to a country?" I fired back, leveling his argument with silence. He shifted in his seat as if it was shoving needles into him. "Religion is not an obligation; it's an individual's personal beliefs. We as a country must work on that without persecuting those with different beliefs."

"But King Lius's belief—"

"Are you justifying persecution, Sir?" I countered, leaning forward in the chair. "Because that would not be a good image for you."

"I'm simply stating the facts, Your Highness. Entorre must hold true to religion as according to the generations before."

"Not at the cost of lives." My voice was even as I made my claim. A royal like myself was accustomed to prying questions like this. "The Entorrean monarch would be no good if they locked up their own people."

He shrugged, continuing to note everything said. Knowing the media, they were going to twist everything I said in the future. For now, I was doing well while staying true to my beliefs.

The interviewer shot out a series of questions. I did my best to evade a few, while others were harder to navigate. Honestly, who made these questions? It took a lowlife to be obsessed with someone else's life.

"Would you say you've ever struggled with maintaining your image, Prince Kace?"

Crossing my arms, I arranged my body to prepare for the reply once I said, "Elaborate on that question."

"Well," he clarified, setting his notepad on his lap, "your physical disability does make a lot of Entorreans worry that you aren't powerful enough. Some might say it's ruined your image ever since it began."

My throat tightened and burned. Glancing at Mallor, his face remained neutral, but his body tensed. A part of me didn't want to look back at the interviewer.

Mallor slightly nodded. Would Nicholyn pity me the same way everyone else was? God, my own people thought I was broken.

"What a pathetic question." A high-pitched voice intervened. "What does a disability have to do with anything?"

"Prince Nicholyn didn't have any disabilities, nor has any monarch in any country's history, so it's a fair question."

Princess Senna grabbed the interviewer's notepad and held it, flipping through the pages. "Come get your notepad back," she muttered.

I assessed the man who sat motionless, waiting for her to hand it back to him. Why was she holding the notepad? It didn't occur to me that I should be angered. My throat loosened slightly as she waved the notepad nonchalantly, almost mockingly at the interviewer. "Are you not coming to get it?" she said, her voice raised.

The man glanced around the room, then rested his gaze at me. I shrugged, leaning back in my chair. Let him try her. She'd burn him alive without a single touch.

"You feel powerless, don't you? Prince Kace doesn't, though. I highly doubt a disability affects a persons' capabilities." She tossed the notepad back on his lap. "And erase all your ridiculous questions if you want people to take you seriously."

"I'm sorry, Prince Kace." The interviewer sighed, rubbing the eraser of the pencil. "My employer prepared all these questions."

No one replied back. We waited while he frantically erased three pages worth of questions.

As much as it physically pained me, my eyes could not leave her. She was different today—the way she sat was forced, the way she glared at everyone was hateful, even the way she spoke was more spiteful.

It didn't take a genius to know something was wrong.

I pretended to check my pocket watch as my eyes stayed glued to her. Her hair was always tied high above her head. If I pulled out a pin, would her hair fall to her waist? Her fingers long and slim with rings, and golden bracelets lacing her wrist.

A fitted jacket and trousers, both white with gold embroidery. The gold made her glow more than usual. Hell, she was making me feel like a gaseous star, and I was only sitting in the same room as her. My hands nearly incinerated when I touched her shoulder in the corridor—

"Prince Kace, are you done checking the time?" I jumped and snapped my watch shut, clearing my throat.

"Y—yes, I was... My father and I have a meeting in five minutes, so you... you came at a bad time," I lied, shoving my stupid watch back into my pocket.

Mallor from across the room raised a brow, but I widened my eyes, preventing him from correcting me.

"I think this interview was done, anyway." Princess Senna got up, shaking the man's hand. "Please learn to grow a spine. I hope your employer learns what's appropriate and not."

He nodded and reached his hand out to me. With two fingers, I shook his ungloved hand and gestured him to the guards that would escort him out.

Princess Senna walked out, too, joining the other guards that would escort her. I nearly jumped again when a deep laugh echoed in the room. Mallor slapped my back.

"What's the meaning of that?" I groaned, rubbing my shoulder.

Mallor cleared his throat and grinned. "Everyone except Princess Senna saw you practically salivating."

"The hell are you talking about?" I looked toward the door she left from, hoping the guards had already escorted her away.

"You're lucky she was too busy thinking up seventy three ways to kill the interviewer to notice your gawking."

"Shut up, I was only checking the time."

"I always check the time for three minutes." Mallor shook his head, brushing his hair back. "Hard to say if she's interested or not, Your Highness."

"I'm not interested," I quickly said.

"Right."

"I'm not," I repeated. "Fine, you're right—I was staring at her. But only because I was concerned. Why was she jumping on the roofs? She could've gotten severely hurt."

Mallor sighed, opening the doors as we both exited. It had been awhile since we've conversed, but he was one of the few people that didn't drive me completely mad. Probably because he was mostly quiet, yet his advice was always helpful.

He broke the silence, but I almost wished he hadn't. "You and Odaya are completely split, right?"

I couldn't find it in me to say it, so I nodded, quickening my steps.

"It's not your fault, you know. She cheated so many times and you forgave her because you loved her. If anything, it speaks more about her than you."

"I don't need a reminder, Mallor," I mumbled, twisting my ring.

I could see the headline from the media: Prince Kace and Odaya Finally Split, Was It All A Sham?

As if everyone could see who she was except me. First the headlines after Nicholyn's death calling me a fraud, incompetent, and the interview from my father when he commented on it.

Did Prince Kace Kill The Dark Prince?

King Lius Says, "Prince Kace Will Rule Entorre Better Than His Brother."

"Your Highness, I have to return to my post. We'll talk later." He bowed and walked away, leaving me and my thoughts.

Thoughts. To make matters worse, I still had no idea where Lord Astley was. Rafe was in the southend, so maybe Lord Astley was near. That wouldn't make sense if—

I backtracked when I saw someone stand on the chair in the library and slip a box back on the shelf. I didn't need to watch for too long to know it was the vixen herself, in the flesh.

My mouth seemed to have a mind of its own. "Men, return to your posts. Make sure the press made their way out."

Princess Senna spun around and groaned upon seeing me. "I'm not in the mood for bickering, Prince Kace. I'd rather have the guards here."

"What, you're not going to refer to me as 'Kace' anymore?" I stood next to her, watching her struggle in shoving the box back onto the self.

"Like I said: I'm not in the mood."

Nodding, I pressed my hand against the box she was pushing and thrusted it in with one movement. She grunted and glared at me. "You're welcome," I said under my breath.

Rolling her fire-filled eyes, she muttered, "I didn't thank you."

I stepped back from her and leaned against the bookshelf. She began gathering papers into a file, ignoring me. How dare she ignore me? I should be ignoring her after the stunt she pulled—she promised a man an interview.

"I don't want you on the roofs," I somehow said, contradicting my thoughts.

She chuckled, slamming a bag against a chair. Oddly enough, it was easy to guess that she was mad today, so I casually placed a chair in front of me in case she wanted to assault me, too.

"You think I wanted to scale the roofs? Because of you"—she pointed a firm finger at me—"I needed to get that carriage. And in the end, you ended up using me! You have the audacity to sit here and order me around after everything you've done?"

"Yes."

She hurled a broken pencil at my chest. "I don't need you or your guards."

I shrugged.

"Oh, now you want to stand there like a log? You..." She stopped talking and grabbed the pencil off the floor. "Sorry, I shouldn't have thrown that, but you can't stand there like a horse face."

"A horse face?"

"Or whatever you are." She flung herself on the chair and sighed, resting her head on her arms. "Look, just go away, okay?"

"This is my palace, you know," I reminded her. "You're sitting on royal property, so I could take it away if I wanted."

"If I sit on you, will you go away?" I blinked, and she raised her head, blocking her face with her fingers. "Don't make that perverted."

I held back a chuckle as I said, "I wasn't planning to."

She clasped her bag shut and stacked the books on the end of the table. Small bits of her hair framed her face, making me want to brush them back. Seeing our positions switch was enjoyable.

I went behind her and fixed another table. "You can leave the palace whenever you want, but I want guards with you at all times. For your safety, of course."

"Wait, what?" She twirled, almost hitting me with her bag. "You aren't shipping me off for getting that interview?"

Sighing, I fixed the collar of my jacket, trying my best to ignore her gaze. I must've failed miserably, because I said, "I won't allow you to be injured because of me."

I knew how it was like on those roofs. Princess Senna might've been reckless, but she wanted to help—badly enough to risk her safety. If I could make it slightly easier, I would.

I wouldn't sacrifice her safety for my own needs. The lesson was taught to me one too many times.

"I want to go alone—"

"Absolutely not. Do you have any idea what people would do to you?"

"I wouldn't have to worry if you didn't break my weapon."

"That pathetic umbrella?" The memory of it was laughable. "I had a better one made for you and it'll be finished next week."

She inspected me, forcing my body still. God, did she need to have that kind of effect on me? It drove me insane thinking how weak she made me.

"Lord Astley is in the northern port," she whispered, handing me a slip of paper.

That vixen knew? Of course she knew; her calculative mind was never in the dark for too long. I folded the paper into my pocket. "Then I suppose we're going north."

"Not without my umbrella," she joked, slapping my arm with a file. She was smiling again. Knowing she was back to normal should've calmed my nerves, but it only made me mind soar again.