CHAPTER 354: HIS MAJESTY IS NICE

Caius sat on the high-backed chair, the one next to the bed, and all Rose could do was watch as she stood beside the chair she had sat on for dinner. She could feel smoke seeping out of the top of her head and her ears. She was fuming. Angry at the fact that she could only do what he wanted.

However, Caius seemed completely unbothered. He also seemed to be having a swell time, and there was a hint of a smile on his face as he stared in her direction. He sat with his elbow resting on the armrest and his chin on his palm.

Rose narrowed her eyes. She doubted her company was so wonderful that the Crown Prince couldn’t help but spend every waking moment with her, not to mention the fact that he had been awfully quiet about the incident. He wasn’t the type to just accept things; she had found out the hard way. Unfortunately, she couldn’t read him and could only wait to see how things would unfold.

He suddenly looked at her as though he expected her to come towards him, but Rose intended to keep her distance. If she couldn’t leave this room, she could at least do this. She pulled out the chair and sat at the table once again, her back to him. She would stay here for as long as possible.

A soft knock pulled her out of her thoughts, and servants sped into the room. Rose paid them no mind as she drew imaginary lines on the table, her thoughts filled with what she could possibly do to get out of this.

Eventually, the servants left, and Rose didn’t turn around. She kept her gaze glued to the table. After some time, she didn’t hear anything, and it suddenly made her even more anxious. Sounds would give her an idea of what Caius might be doing. She turned her head only to see Caius hovering over her.

She jerked, her entire body shaking in fear. She was surprised she didn’t scream. She hadn’t even noticed he was standing so close. He had been careful not to cast a shadow on her or the table so she wouldn’t notice his presence. Just how long has he been standing there?

"Your Majesty," she called out, barely recovered.

"What are you doing?" he asked, barely interested in the fact that he had almost frightened her to death.

"Nothing," Rose replied immediately and hid her hands. He must have seen her.

"Are you sure? You seemed particularly engrossed and weren’t even aware I had stepped up to you."

Rose was concerned about this. What did he want with her now? He was dressed in his usual night attire, a long silk robe tied around his body with a string. He rounded the table and sat opposite her.

Did he just find a reason to walk towards her? Rose was dumbfounded and particularly annoyed that she couldn’t just stand up and go to another side of the room; it would seem rude.

She remembered that he had spoken to her, and she tried to think of a proper answer. "It’s nothing, Your Majesty," Rose said with a tight smile.

"I suppose so," Caius replied.

That sentence again. She was starting to hate it. She simply nodded and turned her gaze away, acting as though she was looking around the room.

"What do you usually do after dinner?" Caius suddenly asked. "I doubt I can interest you in playing another round of chess."

Rose was shaking her head before she could even think about it. Then she realized he had asked her something else, and for a brief moment, she remembered home.

After dinner, they would often continue conversations. Her father might talk about his day; her mother loved to listen, or perhaps he might tell a story, but that was when she was little. She couldn’t help but wonder how her father was doing right now. Had he had dinner? Did he have lunch? She hoped he had breakfast too.

"Not much," Rose said softly. "After a hearty meal, it is easy to fall asleep. What does Your Majesty do after dinner?" Besides the obvious.

Rose didn’t know why she turned the question to him, but she didn’t want to speak about herself. Besides, she doubted there was nothing about her or her family the Crown Prince didn’t know about, whereas she knew nothing about him other than him being the King’s son and that the scar was caused by his father, courtesy of Ryder.

It wasn’t that Rose was particularly curious about the Crown Prince, but since he was the one interested in talking while she would rather be in her room away from him, he could talk all he wanted.

"Hmm," Caius said with a smile. "I am sure you can guess."

Rose found the knowing tone in his voice annoying, especially since she knew what he was getting at. However, Rose refused to play into this, so she shook her head.

"I am afraid I cannot begin to guess, Your Majesty."

Caius smirked some more and, with his unwavering gaze, said, "Read."

It was such a blatant lie. Rose had never seen him read a single day since she came to the castle. Playing chess would have been a more believable lie. Besides, they both knew he was lying; he wasn’t even trying to hide it.

"Ah," Rose said and nodded.

"You do not know how to read," he added.

Rose was unsure how to address this nor the reason why he said it. It didn’t seem like a question, but why then would he state it?

"No, Your Majesty," Rose said and looked to the side, wondering if she should go to bed, but that was a bad idea. She certainly couldn’t stand this conversation anymore.

"A shame, really," he commented.

Rose nodded. "Indeed."

If she were educated to some extent, would that have helped her situation? Would she have been where she wanted to be instead of stuck with the Crown Prince? She did recall Lady Delphine telling her the Crown Prince would hire a tutor if she requested it. It certainly would make it easier to write a letter to her father.

"Your Majesty," she suddenly blurted.

"Yes," Caius said, intrigued.

"I’d like to write a letter to my father. I need to let him know I got here safe and sound," she said with a soft voice. She was unsure if he would be annoyed by her request.

"Of course. Would you like to write one tonight and have it sent by dawn tomorrow?" Caius asked.

"Tonight?" Rose asked in partial confusion. If it were tonight, there was no doubt about it, the Crown Prince would likely be the one writing it. She didn’t like that.

"Yes," he said and pointed to the writing desk close to the shelves filled with books and scrolls. "You should find some parchment paper and ink. With my seal, everything needed to write the letter is here."

Rose stood up as he spoke, walking towards the other corner of the room. She was glad he was willing to help, but at the same time, she knew he was also using it to monitor her. However, Rose shoved this to the back of her mind; writing a letter to her father was more important than the idea that the Crown Prince might be plotting.

She found the ink but couldn’t see any empty parchment paper. She noticed he didn’t try to offer any more guidance, and Rose was too prideful to ask for help. Eventually, she found some rolls placed on the shelf. She took one and returned the rest, then she walked towards Caius with a paper in one hand and the ink and quill in the other.

"What do you want to write?" Caius asked as he spread out the sheet and dipped the quill into the ink.

"Firstly, I want to tell him I arrived safely and the journey wasn’t difficult. I would also like to know how he fares and if he eats regularly as he promised. I hope he isn’t working too hard..." Rose paused as the Crown Prince scribbled some words. She didn’t start speaking again until he lifted his head to look at her.

"I am fine, Father. I also eat regularly and..." she paused for a little longer, prompting the Crown Prince to lift his head.

"And?" he said with a frown on his face. Rose thought he looked serious.

"His Majesty is nice," Rose forced out. It felt like there was a hand around her throat. "You don’t have to worry about me. I eat more food than we could possibly dream of, and the room I sleep in can hold a herd of horses."

Caius chuckled at this, and Rose frowned. This was exactly why she didn’t want him writing the letter. But this letter was important not to send it just because the crown prince would be the one to write it. She didn’t want her father to worry, didn’t want him to blame himself. She wanted him to be fine and alive.