38 Chapter 38 - Plan in action?

Raphael rested rested a hand on my shoulder. One that urged me to wait. If I were to go to him in the crowd that watched our every move it would cause a series of rumours. It wasn't a secret that nobles loved to twist rumours so much that watching the parties involved becoming unstable was their greatest joy.

Examples of this would be Mallory's mother, Lady Jean, and Mallory herself.

So with a sigh I waited until the nobles were so drunk they left or enjoyed the other alternative, being sprawled indecently on the floor. At this point I was blatantly yawning. So tired the idea of any manners eluded me.

Raphael, the actual Raphael, was sat down and constantly whispering multiple apologies to me. And although he felt responsible as the adult. He really wasn't.

"Raphael. I'm tired right now so I can't argue with you that it really isn't your fault and on that note, I'm going home", I blinked sleepily and rubbed my eye to keep it from drooping.

I noticed the look someone might have when they see something overloading with cuteness across his face, but I found myself more distracted with the man who threw daggers so blatantly at him as he reached for me and held me in his arms, as if to protect me.

The Duke of Camellia was also displeased about this engagement. As was… everyone who actually cared about me. He shielded me away from Raphael before he spoke in a condescending tone.

"It seems you truly have no right to have such a position if you force a child to stay up past their bedtime. I'll have to keep an eye on you, Raphael Harlow", he sneered and then he turned away with me in his arms and left the petrified Raphael alone in his seat.

I turned to the poor guy and waved good bye while mouthing a 'sorry'.

He was really blameless.

I didn't have time to dwell on him as I noticed that my uncle was currently cursing the guy out in a volume that was basically mumbling, but still sounded coherent from my distance. I flinched as I caught a rather gruesome sentence that would compromise Raphaels bloodline and decided to intervene despite my tiredness.

"You know… it's not his fault…" I spoke up.

He threw me a look, gaze less irritable as he forced himself to not scare me witless I would guess.

"How isn't it his fault?" He spat, his eyes seemed trained on the dwindling crowd.

"Well, for one, he was just as surprised at it as I was. And even when he accepted the proposal it was because Luka basically forced him to. If he rejected he knew it would've made me a laughing stock", I thought that would be enough, but the duke just gave me a pitiful look. It seemed like I had misunderstood something. "Am I wrong?"

"No. No you are entirely right", he sighed.

"Then why do you still blame him?" I asked in annoyance, but he gave me a that pitiful look again and that made me confused.

"I don't blame "him" Mallory", he stared ahead with a concentrated look and I found myself looking to were he stared at for so long.

I realised he hadn't been staring at the dead crowd at all. No. He stared at the man who sat atop the dais, on a throne of red and gold with a heavy crown atop his head. His golden eyes stared right back at the dukes, identical in colour, in a stare down match that neither planned on losing.

The duke didn't blame Raphael…

The duke blamed the King.

But he must know well that the King had no say in it? That it was Archie… but what if?…

If would be unthinkable that the duke Camellia would be unaware of the ministers hold on the monarchy, which meant something that made a chill run up my spine. My sleepy eyes were no more and I found myself staring at the man atop the throne with a look of disbelief.

It was at that moment that I realised that I wasn't Mallory.

That the man in the throne wasn't "my" father.

Suddenly I felt a coldness all over me. Something that felt like a four cornered box that surrounded me seemed to crack and expose me to a cold cold revelation.

I. Didn't. Belong.

Those three words haunted me that night. I found myself staring restlessly at the ceiling. I recalled things that had happened during the banquet. How Luka had left and I hadn't even said goodbye. How Edmund had seemed so unsettled. How Jirael didn't even show up. It kept me from recalling the father who seemed to not be quite what I thought he had become.

Had I become too hopeful and expectant when everyone's behaviour changed? Did I think I changed a story that hadn't even begun?

And if the war had ended so soon then maybe, I don't have much time before the female lead shows up.

If so I must plan my escape now!

Just as I sat up in resolution I recalled the one thing that held me back more than anything.

Ruby…

He… probably saw all this… didn't he?

I felt my face flush as I stared at the fisted hand that shot out like I was some kind of wannabe magic girl. I crossed my arms self-consciously and sat with a wary glance around the room.

Ruby was a Brennus who could hide so well in the shadows that even after all these years I still had no clue where to look when I heard his voice echo randomly. Usually to patronise me.

As if on cue I heard his voice.

"Isn't it a bit too late to regret your actions?" He appeared before my bed with a swish of the wind. Usually he didn't care for anything and only ever got serious when my health was jeopardised, but today he looked rather solemn.

Even he felt disappointed.

"Is it that big a deal?" I sighed.

This was getting draining.

"I saw you as my princess. A Brennus princess. But… well engagements can always fall apart", and then he shrugged and was back to normal.

At least he was back to normal.

"Nobody seems too happy about the arrangement. Like literally no one! It's not like I had a choice and neither did Raphael!" I gave a frustrated groan and fell back in my pillow with a sigh.

"I know, princess. It's just you are a very valuable and loved person", he smiled as he stood beside me.

His words were something the original Mallory never heard. Loved? Valuable? Those words were so nice I felt bad about my plans.

Thinking about it. I had a while before I needed to escape. The heroine would be found by her family in her late teens. If things actually go accordingly and given that her and Mallory were around the same age then wouldn't I have a fair bit of years?

But would it be better to escape and learn to survive? I knew nothing of the world beyond the palace walls… I was in essence 'a sheltered princess'.

And so I decided my resolution as I stared up at my biggest obstacle. His cobalt blue eyes were trained on the ceiling on thought as he lay down beside me. He looked sad.

"Did you say goodbye?" I asked when I realised Luka might be the reason.

"How could I?", he snorted in a melancholic manner as he continued to look at the white washed ceiling, "he would order me to kill Sir Harlow".

I wasn't sure whether he was serious or not so I just laughed, but when he didn't laugh as well I became as silent as a dead mouse.

He… He wasn't joking?!