“I live alone in this…this tomb…I feel dead.”
“You should have seen Samantha Baker’s face when you two were dancing,” Emily said gleefully hours later, as they drove away from the ball. “I think she wanted to cry! Her expensive dress had nothing on yours!”
The Prince did not speak, gazing forlornly out the window. With the commotion in the party, he and Kelsea had not talked like she promised they would. He preferred it this way, anyhow; there was nothing to say to her, nothing that would change her mind.
Emily was driving him back to the forest, where he would walk back to his empty palace with a shattered heart and injured pride. He would continue his life alone as ever, because the Barn Owl hadn’t returned yet.
His life would never change.
Kelsea sat beside him, and she didn’t speak either. She was leaning away from him; her face reflected the same sadness he felt, but he did not understand why, for she was the one who wanted to reject everything he had to offer her.
“Why so quiet, you two?” Emily asked—then yawned. “Oh, maybe you just danced too much.”
The Prince clasped his hands. Yes, they had danced, but not done much else. It had been bittersweet to steal the attention at a ball, dancing with a beautiful lady who did not really want him. He could not send her away, nor did he want to, but had spent the entire night going through the motions and wishing it would end.
A few minutes later they pulled up at the side of the road—the Prince’s stop. Before he could leave, Kelsea grabbed his arm.
She took a deep breath and began, “So, about the dress—”
He stiffened, feeling anger for the first time in many years. “Keep it.”
Emily twisted around in her seat to gape at him, but didn’t say a word.
“What?” gasped Kelsea. “No, I couldn’t keep it!”
“Keep it,” he repeated, pulling away.
“But Caspar,” she began, voice breaking.
The words slipped from his mouth like a torn heart bleeding: “No one else is ever going to wear it.”
He opened the door and slipped out, ignoring when Kelsea called after him. He broke into a run, crashing into the forest and taking the path so familiar to him that he could walk it in the dark. As usual, he walked the path alone.
Because he would always be alone.
The Barn Owl waited up in his bedchamber, perched at the window, yellow eyes glowing in the moonlight. He watched the Prince shrug off his jacket and fling it into the corner with an angry grunt.
“Perhaps you were a bit hasty,” said the owl at last, “in going after the young lady’s heart.”
“Even if I was,” retorted the Prince, “where were you to tell me?”
He kicked off his boots and dropped onto the bed, staring into a shadowy corner but refusing to cry. Instead he allowed the dreadful emptiness to envelop him again, and wondered why he ever risked climbing out of it. Here it was painful, but at least he knew what to expect; at least he wouldn’t get his hopes up, only to be hurt in the end.
“You want to be in love,” continued the Barn Owl, “but you know nothing about it.”
“If you want to see me alone forever, you’re going to be well pleased.”
“No, boy,” said the owl, “that is not what I want. I know it is possible for you to be happy someday.”
“Someday,” croaked the Prince. “But when? I live alone in this…this tomb…I feel dead.” He flung himself onto his back and stared at the beams on the ceiling, a hot, unwanted tear sliding down his face.
Hoping to never see that dress again…hoping to never feel hope.
Hello! I hope you had a fantastic weekend! We have a few more chapters left of The Autumn Prince, and he’s really having a rough time now. If you’ve made it this far with me, I am so glad you like the story; if not, you can find all the chapters on the menu by mousing over Novels and then The Autumn Prince!
If you like my writing, do consider giving my novel a try! Dissonance is available on nook and Kindle, as well as paperback; support an author, get me a cup of coffee, and that way I can write more!
-Mariella Hunt
Filed under: The Autumn Prince Tagged: emily, kelsea, serial, the autumn prince, the barn owl
