Chapter 62: Chapter 62

KAMORA

Lord Maroke and his wife walked out of the hall, regal and proud.

Nobles trailed behind, some looking confused by the event that had just taken place, others thrilled by the drama they’d just witnessed. Kamora could feel their curiosity.

She knew they wanted to ask questions but understood that they were too proud to voice them.

When they reached the carriage, Lord Maroke helped her inside before climbing in himself. The ride began, and they left the castle grounds.

“Well, our plan worked!” Kamora broke the silence. “I would’ve enjoyed a little more action, though.”

“I understand,” Lord Maroke replied with a sly smile. “But I think the king and queen know their daughter well enough to end the ball before she went too far. I wonder what punishment she’ll receive.”

“What if they don’t punish her?” Kamora asked.

“They have to,” Lord Maroke said with a frown. “If they don’t, it’s a slap in the face to me and the other nobles. If the princess can target my family without consequences, who’s to say she won’t do the same to theirs?”

“So the king has to punish her publicly.” Kamora nodded, realization dawning. Lord Maroke nodded back.

“In the end, though, whether she’s punished or not won’t matter,” Kamora said, her smile turning dark. “I placed a curse on her. From now on, she’ll feel unbearable pain anytime she’s close to someone. She’ll live the rest of her days in solitude, and that will teach her never to cross me again.”

“Aren’t you worried they’ll suspect and punish you for it?” Lord Maroke asked.

“Not at all,” Kamora grinned. “That will only seal the princess’s fate.”

***

Meanwhile, in the palace, the princess stood before her parents, her head bowed.

They were in the king’s private chambers, lavishly decorated with rich tapestries of gold and scarlet, dark wood furnishings lining the edges, and the grand canopy bed, along with a huge table the king used to hold meetings when too lazy to leave the comfort of his room.

The king sat on a large settee directly facing the bed, his gaze cold and unyielding. The queen paced around the room, clearly frustrated.

“I can’t believe you did that!” she finally shouted. “You disgraced us in front of the entire elite!”

“Mother, you must believe me,” the princess insisted, keeping her head bowed. “Kamora is not what she seems.”

“And what does that matter?” the queen shot back. “If you dislike her, why cause such a scene?”

“Because I love him, Mother,” the princess said, raising her head to meet her mother’s gaze. “I’ve loved Lord Maroke long before she entered his life.”

The queen’s face softened. “You should’ve told us. We would have helped you. You’re a princess, known for your calm and grace. And now? All of that is gone. What will you do now?”

“Mother, I don’t care about my image,” the princess replied, stepping closer. Her skin prickled with discomfort, but she dismissed it as nerves.

She stopped as her mother sighed and turned away. “I just want him to be mine.”

“He’s married, dear.”

“But you could annul his marriage! It wouldn’t be that difficult, would it?” the princess asked, her eyes shining with hope.

“Even if we did, what makes you think Lord Maroke will marry you?” The king finally spoke, his voice cutting. “His family is cursed. What if he’s with her because she can break that curse?”

“If he needs a witch, I can get him a hundred witches! He doesn’t need to marry one!”

“Enough!” the king thundered, striking the arm of his seat.

The sharp crack echoed through the room, silencing them both.

“I won’t let that cursed family into our bloodline. There are better nobles you could obsess over—ones without a wife and child. Return to your quarters and think about your actions while we decide your punishment.”

“But Father—”

“I said enough! Leave,” he said. He stood, the finality in his voice leaving no room for protest.

Without another glance, he crossed the room, peeled back the covers of his bed, and climbed in, turning his back to them.

The queen cast a lingering, sorrowful look at her daughter before quietly joining her husband.

Left alone in the thick silence, the princess lowered her head in a tense bow, her jaw clenched and fury simmering beneath her skin.

Then, without a word, she turned and swept out of the room.

***

The princess stormed through the corridors, rage crackling with every step. Servants scrambled out of her path, bowing quickly or pressing themselves to the walls to avoid her wrath.

When she reached her chambers, she threw the door open with a bang and slammed it shut behind her. The silence that followed only fueled her fury.

Without thinking, she grabbed the nearest object—a vase—and hurled it across the room. It shattered against the wall, scattering into a million pieces.

“Bring me Gwen!” she yelled, her chest heaving with frustration.

“You seem very upset,” a lazy voice drawled from the shadows.

The princess barely reacted. Instead, she headed to her mirror to remove her jewelry.

“It’s that Kamora! I want her gone, and Gwen couldn’t even handle one simple task!” She threw a hairpin to the floor. “I don’t know why I ever trusted her.”

“Not surprising,” the visitor remarked, stepping out from the shadows to stand behind her, his presence tall and eerie.

The princess felt that familiar build-up of pain. Excusing it to mean she was uncomfortable with his presence, she moved away from him.

“I want Kamora gone,” she repeated, raking a hand through her hair.

“You never told me she was a witch,” he noted, leaning against the wall beside her mirror.

“I didn’t know,” she snapped. “Gwen mentioned that Kamora’s mother was a witch, but she said Kamora never inherited those powers. How was I to know?”

“Seems there’s a lot you didn’t know.”

“Or maybe Gwen hid things from me. That fool.” She turned to him. “Can’t you do something?”

“That’ll cost you more, Princess,” he said, his voice dangerous yet tempting.

“I don’t care,” she replied, her eyes glinting. “I’ll give you whatever you want, anything. Just get rid of Kamora. Permanently.”

“As you wish, Princess.”