Fatima: The Slave Princess-Chapter 84 - 83

"These documents are to be sorted in alphabetical order." Nathan said with a scowl as he placed a heap of papers on my desk.

He gives me work first thing in the morning. Is he still upset about what happened yesterday?

"When precisely does your highness require the return of these?"

"These are official documents, thus, I can't leave them out for too long." He replied before sitting in his chair.

Which means I must complete this task by the end of today. Well... let's do our best Fati, it wouldn't be in my best interest to aggravate him further since he seems to be in a foul mood this morning.

"Understood, your highness."

My day is pretty much packed huh...

"Clear my schedule tomorrow while you're at it."

Under normal circumstances, I'd be allowed to inquire about the reason, but I'm afraid that's not the case today. His desk is far enough away that I can't see his face clearly, but the way his shoulders are hunched suggests a scowl.

"Understood sire."

"You aren't even asking why, like you normally do."

"Pardon? Did you say something, your Highness?"

I didn't catch what he just mumbled, but it sounded important.

"Get to work, Secretary Lottie."

"Y-yes sir!"

*Knock, knock*

"Pardon the interruption, your highness. Lord Alexander of the Wrotingthon ducal is requesting an audience with you." Announced miss Bettie from behind the doors.

Wrotingthon-*gasp* One of the four greatest swords of Alkaraz, and a member of the internal council! Having only encountered them through the pages of books, I've always cherished the hope of a real-life meeting. If Miss Bettie, a woman known for her discerning tastes, came to announce his arrival, then he must be a person of significant stature in their family. Could he be the duke?

"Tell Bettie to let him in."

W-what? Is he going to receive him here? We're talking about a Wrotingthon here! A Wrotingthon!

"What are you doing, Secretary Lottie?" Nathan growled from behind his desk.

"R-right away, your highness."

*sigh* My poor heart. He's so scary when he's upset.

"Please come in, my lord."

A young man, carrying with him the imposing aura of nobility, stepped into the room as the doors creaked open slowly and dramatically. From his deep green hair, styled with an almost unnatural precision, down to his patent leather white shoes, he beamed with an elegance that spoke of inherited wealth and effortless grace. It seems the historians weren't exaggerating when they wrote five Chapters to elaborate on their family's unique appearance and extravagant taste in fashion. He's incredibly handsome.

"Ahem! G-greetings, Lord Wrotingthon. Right this way, please." I instructed nervously.

"Everlasting glory to the small sun of Alkaraz."

What's with the awkward silence?

"Please excuse me, your highness. I shall fetch the refreshments-"

"There's no need." Nathan replied curtly.

H-huh? Is he asking me to stay and listen in on their conversation?

"The noble young Lord Alexander will not stay for long."

Follow current novels on freewebnσvel.cѳm.

Heh?

+++

"Your highness! Are you awake, your highness?!"

The potent smell of narcotics and the heavy scent of debauchery that noticeably seeped from his doorway left no room for doubt regarding the immoral actions occurring within his chamber. *sigh* This child...

"Greetings, your royal highness..." she muttered sleepily, poking her head out of the door with a blanket wrapped around her bare body.

"The prince is asleep at the moment. Would you mind coming back in a couple of hours? I shall have him ready by then."

Who does she think she's addressing in this manner?

"Very well. Escort him to the breakfast lounge. I'll await him there."

"Understood, sire."

He's been cooped up in his room with that secretary of his throughout the entire duration of our travels. It is beginning to annoy and irritate me to a significant degree. Having made countless attempts to convince him to end his inappropriate relationship without success, I have reached the point where I believe it is wise to allow the matter to resolve itself without further intervention on my part. The possibility of her ever becoming his wife is completely unrealistic and out of the question. Since he's still so young, I'll let him have his fun for now, but I'll keep a close eye on him.

"Great news, my king. We will berth in Peripot Harbor by midday tomorrow. We've just received words that the crown prince will be our escort to the palace."

Excellent!

+++

Although a mutual dislike simmered between them, thick with unspoken tension, only Nathan outwardly displayed his hostility and aggression toward the young lord. With his head slumped low, he offered repeated apologies on behalf of his brother and friends, but the prince's furious tirade continued, fueled by the offense they committed. He continued to berate him, the harsh sounds cutting through any attempts at explanation. I'm afraid he might draw his sword at this rate. He keeps getting angrier.

"Very well..." Nathan sighed before rising from his seat. His chair's loud rattle filled the room as he circled around his desk and stood in front of the young man.

"Since you keep prattling on about forgiveness, I'll grant your wish and remove you from the competition. However,"

The atmosphere was thick with a sense of anticipation and dread. Like a beast of prey about to pounce, Nathan's looming presence over Lord Alexander was menacing and suggested an attack was imminent. The prince's imposing figure and intense gaze bore down on his guest, causing him to quiver and visibly show the pressure he was under. Honestly, it's a miracle he's still conscious.

"...the same grace cannot be extended to the rest of those scoundrels. Therefore, relay to them that the crown prince is awaiting the day with bated breath."

"I am deeply grateful, your highness, truly I am. But it would be unfair to-"

"Go before I change my mind, Alexander Wrotingthon." Nathan roared sternly before returning to his seat.

The young lord Alexander must have bowed ten times before he eventually bolted from the study, drenched in his own sweat and tears. Goodness, that was quite intense. I was so invested in the ordeal that I couldn't get any work done.

"Shall I fetch you some tea, your highness?" I asked, slowly rising from my seat.

"Yes..."

Is it me, or does he sound sick?

"Thank you..."

I must be hearing things. There's no way Nathan would thank me out of the blue.

~Moments Later

"Your highness, I have brought you some chamomile tea-your highness?"

Bent over his desk, Nathan clutched his chest, his labored breathing and pained expression hinting at discomfort. His wheezing was incredibly loud; each rasping breath filled the room like bellows. A wave of panic washed over me; the tray slipped from my grasp, sending teacups crashing to the floor in a shower of splinters and a loud crash as I ran to him with all my might. Aside from his irregular heartbeat, I'm not detecting anything else. What happened in the little time I left him alone?

"What's wrong, Nathan? Why are you like this? Are you hurting somewhere?"

What should I do in a situation like this? I'm so worried; my mind is a chaotic mess, and I can't seem to string my thoughts together. He's drenched in sweat, and he won't let go of his chest.

"Right! A doctor! Please wait a moment, your highness. I will go and call for a doctor."

"No..." he groaned as he took hold of my hand.

"But...you're hurt."

"Just..." he muttered through his clenched teeth.

This won't do. I have to do something. His chair sits directly behind him. If I can get him to sit down, I may be able to get a better look at what is ailing him.

"Are you able to sit, your highness?"

Phew! I got him to sit without any issues. The next step is to examine his heart. My hand, trapped in Nathan's firm grasp, suddenly felt the warmth of his chest as he pressed it there, his heartbeat a frantic drum against my palm. Within moments, the agitated rhythm of his breaths and pounding heart began to quiet, a welcome stillness settling over him. Did...did my hand do that? But I hadn't done anything in particular. Or could it be because we're both Sants?

"Princess Charlotte...if you keep looking at me with such eyes, I'm afraid I might ram through those walls of yours against your will."

A gasp escaped my lips as I became aware of our faces, so close I could feel his breath on my skin. Now my heart is the one cavorting inside my chest, its rhythm a wild, happy dance. One wrong move and our lips will touch. I know I should pull away, but against my better judgment, a strange sense of longing holds me. His gaze, a fiery ocean of tenderness, threatens to engulf my entire being if I allow myself to be captivated by its intensity. It's no longer possible for me to suppress or deny the overwhelming and intense emotions that he alone has the power to stir within me. How did it all come to this...without me noticing? Why...just why did I allow myself to fall so hopelessly in love with Nathan?

"What's wrong? Why are you crying?"

"This is so unfair." I sobbed and sniffled.

"Are you hurt somewhere?"

"Pardon me, your highness." Sir Leonardo announced as he strode in.

Thankfully, I had separated from Nathan the moment the doors flung open. As the chamberlain strode into the study, a woman walked beside him, her form a shadowy silhouette too far away for me to recognize.

"Lady Florette has arrived."