16 SIXTEEN: Sephora

I returned to the apothecary after swapping my attire for something more appropriate for gardening. Only upon reaching a familiar hallway did I realise I had taken a wrong turn. It was the very same hallway that had led me to that dimly lit room and the arrogant prince when I first arrived.

As I gazed at the door, the distant melody of a piano caught my attention. Part of me yearned to push the door open and listen to him play, but he had explicitly requested my absence, and I understood the importance of respecting boundaries.

Making my way back to the apothecary, thoughts of the third prince occupied my mind. He possessed a striking handsomeness, perhaps even more so than his brothers, yet there was an air of uniqueness about him – both in his demeanour and appearance. One would need to be informed of their relation to discern his connection to the other two.

Breakfast this morning was unusually subdued, with Prince Cirdan notably absent. While I half-expected King Elrond to be as enraged as he was last night, he seemed unfazed, almost as if such occurrences were routine. Given Cirdan's distant nature, it was probably not an uncommon event.

Upon returning to the apothecary, I heaved open the weighty doors, pondering how Igor managed it so effortlessly. Inside, the garden lay deserted, which struck me as odd considering I had left Igor and the apothecary here earlier. I presumed Igor had departed, and the apothecary likely had other duties to attend to.

Making my way towards the shed Gillian had instructed me to use, I heard a commotion, though it seemed to originate from the adjacent shed, rather than the apothecary shop. Initially dismissing it as perhaps rodents scurrying about, my curiosity piqued as I caught a whisper.

Although normally I'd mind my own business, an inexplicable curiosity drove me to investigate the source of the disturbance. If I were to tend to the garden here, it was best to ascertain whether there might be a rodent issue.

Moving stealthily towards the origin of the sound, I couldn't shake the worry that if it were Gillian, it was one thing for him to disapprove of my presence, but quite another if he caught me snooping.

The shed's door, crafted from what seemed to be red wood, was coated in a dark crimson hue, obscuring its true material. Contemplating prying it open for a look, I halted as I recognized two familiar voices, instantly knowing to avoid drawing attention to myself.

Despite my earlier aversion to gossip, I couldn't resist the temptation to eavesdrop. Spotting a tiny crack in the shed's door, I decided to take a peek.

The interior was dimly lit, making it difficult to discern much at first. However, my eyes quickly adjusted to the darkness, granting me a clearer view of the room beyond. What I saw elicited the most silent gasps I had ever uttered.

I stumbled upon a lake just across the flower garden. A gazebo sat on the bank, and a boat floated nearby.

Opting for the bench, I settled there instead of heading to the gazebo. The air was filled with the quacking of ducks swimming in the lake, one of which waddled toward me. I noticed they were gathered on one end of the lake, and upon closer inspection, I spotted a familiar figure in black royal robes— the arrogant prince.

I contemplated moving elsewhere, but there was something captivating about him. He sat on the gazebo floor, tossing crumbs to the ducks in the water. Some of them gathered around him, feeding directly from his hand.

It was a contrast to his usual demeanour; when he wasn't being cruel to others, he displayed kindness toward animals. This contradiction was evident in the softening of his features as he was around the ducks.

He appeared to have detected my presence, pausing momentarily before resuming his task of feeding the ducks. Though tempted to approach, I knew better than to subject myself to his potential disdain. His unapproachable demeanour was evident in his eyes, the downturn of his lips, and his serious countenance.

"It seems you enjoy stalking me," a voice behind me remarked, causing me to involuntarily shriek and clutch my chest. How had he managed to approach me so swiftly?

"How did you sneak up on me so quickly?" I blurted out my intrusive thoughts, scanning the lake's edge to confirm his absence from the gazebo.

"What are you doing here?" he inquired, sidestepping my question. His gaze wandered away from me, fixating lazily over the lake.

"One should never answer a question with a question," I replied, and he gave me a lazy glance, devoid of any hint of amusement.

"Your question was rhetorical, and I am not obliged to respond to it. However, you are obligated to answer mine. Now, I'll ask again, what are you doing here?"

Still seated on the bench, I sighed, trailing my gaze over the lake. "I took a walk and ended up here. I'm not stalking you; it's merely a coincidence."

He fell silent, and I assumed it was due to his discomfort with my presence. In just one day, I've encountered discomfort from others towards me.

Earlier, while on my way here, I met a group of ladies in the garden whom I introduced myself to, but they visibly cringed, though they attempted to conceal it. I recognized that look from years of experiencing it.

It was undoubtedly due to my skin colour because it couldn't be my dress. My dress appeared to be as lovely, if not lovelier, than theirs.

I stood up to leave, murmuring an apology, when he handed me the bag of crumbs from his hand. I looked up at him, but his gaze didn't meet mine.

"Do you care to feed the ducks?" he asked, still maintaining his straight face.

His gesture left me puzzled. Did he want company but lacked a direct way of asking for it, or did he see right through me and pity me? Nonetheless, I accepted the crumbs from him. I wasn't going to decline his first polite offer.

"For your information, this doesn't mean we're acquainted," he warned, and I smiled to myself. Perhaps he wasn't such a grumpy person after all.

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