Chapter 2
Mr. Hawthorne looked like he wanted to say something.
But when his eyes met mine, all his words melted into a long, weary sigh.
He quietly stepped aside, letting me pass.
I took a step, then another, making my way toward that gate.
Outside those doors waited freedom, the new life I'd been yearning for, lost to me for so long.
Just as I reached the gate, the urgent clatter of hooves echoed from the distance, growing louder by the second.
Then, a grand carriage came to a steady halt right in front of the Blackwood Manor.
A slender, fair hand swept aside the curtain, and a woman in a flowing water-blue long dress stepped out, supported by her maid.
She looked so frail, her face so pale, as if even the gentlest breeze could topple her.
There was a delicate vulnerability in her eyes, the kind that lingers after a long illness, so tender and fragile.
It was Jessamine.
I stopped in my tracks, quietly watching her.
This was the part I'd been playing for three years, the woman Prince Theron could never forget.
Almost at the same moment, Prince Theron rode up, clad in a velvet riding coat, tall and proud like a pine.
The moment his gaze landed on Jessamine, those eyes that had always been frozen and distant suddenly sparked with a light I'd never seen in him.
It was a rush of wild joy, deep tenderness, and the haunting fear of losing her again.
He dismounted in one smooth motion, striding straight toward Jessamine with long, determined steps.
His eyes were locked on her; no one else existed for him in that moment.
He didn't even look my way, just left me standing at the gate with my bundle, like I was nothing but a stranger.
It felt like someone jabbed my heart with an invisible needle, I thought.
Not pain, just a dull, empty numbness.
"Theron, darling," Jessamine called out.
Her voice was soft and trembling, just enough to tug at one's heart.
"Jessamine, you're finally back," Theron said, his voice gentle, so much softer than I'd ever imagined.
He reached out, like he wanted to hug her, but something held him back, so he just gently held her arm.
"You must be exhausted from the trip. Come inside and get some rest," he said.
It was only then that Jessamine seemed to notice me, her gaze drifting over with a fragile, delicate air as she gave me a gentle, elegant curtsy.
"You must be Ginevra. Thank you for taking care of Theron and the Mansion these three years," she said, her voice soft and sweet.
She put on a humble front, but her eyes were full of triumph and possessiveness, making it clear she was staking her claim.
She didn't even wait for me to respond before turning back to Theron, her eyes reddening, tears welling up at the corners.
"Theron, you have no idea how much I've suffered these past few years, recovering away from home.
"Every day, I had to choke down those bitter medicines, and all I could think about was you," she said, her voice trembling with emotion.
Her words made Theron's brows furrow, and the compassion in his eyes was almost spilling over.
"It's all behind us now. As long as I'm here, you'll never have to endure any hardship again," he promised.
His promise was earnest, as if he were swearing an oath.
I stood off to the side, watching it all play out like some dramatic reunion between star-crossed lovers.
And me? I was just the unnecessary, awkward extra in the background.
I cleared my throat, cutting through their sweet reunion.
"Your Highness, Ms. Ashford," I said.
"Now that Ms. Ashford is back, our arrangement is over.
"I'll be going now," I added.
Without waiting for a reply, I grabbed my bundle and headed out.
"Stop right there," Prince Theron's voice turned cold, sharp as a midwinter wind.
He finally bothered to look at me, his brows drawn tight in obvious displeasure.
"What arrangement? Why am I the last to know about this?" he demanded.
I couldn't help but let out a cold laugh in my heart. Of course, he didn't know.
This whole arrangement was always between the Ashford family and me.
Prince Theron, aloof and high and mighty, never cared about the origins or fate of a mere tool meant to bring him luck.
"You don't need to know, Your Highness. In any case, I'm leaving," I said, my tone unwavering.
My attitude was resolute.
Jessamine quickly tugged at Theron's sleeve, her voice considerate.
"Theron, Ginevra must be exhausted. Why not let her stay in the estate for now? Let's discuss things later."
Theron glanced at Jessamine, then at me, and finally spoke, his tone icy.
"Stay here for now. I'll handle it myself," Theron said, his tone leaving no room for doubt.
It was a command, absolute and final.
I didn't argue; I knew there was no use fighting it.
Theron himself guided Jessamine into the Mansion's finest courtyard, the Snowfall Pavilion.
I'd heard it was his mother's favorite place, every corner shaped by his own touch.
As for me, after three years as the Princess Consort, I didn't even know which way the door to Snowfall Pavilion opened.
How ironic.
The dinner that night only took that irony to its peak.
At the long banquet table, Theron and Jessamine sat at the head, while I was placed at the very end, as far away from them as possible.
Throughout the meal, Theron kept serving Jessamine, doting on her, every word and gesture dripping with tenderness.