Divorcing His Royal Highness (English-R18)

Chapter 10

TAYLOR

The night had been relentlessly sleepless, tormenting me with thoughts of what my future might hold in this place. My mind was consumed by plans for escape, much like my first attempt. Yet, the sight of guards stationed at every corner of the castle made the notion of slipping away seem futile. I spent the entire night contemplating the different paths I could take to regain my freedom.

"If I can't manage to escape from here, perhaps I should maneuver things so that he's the one who sends me away," I whispered to myself with a sly grin.

My thoughts were deeply absorbed in this scheme when a knock echoed from the door. I was almost certain it was him. I had carefully timed my morning routine to ensure I wouldn't cross paths with him, particularly not in the bathroom. I was determined to avoid a situation like the one that had transpired the previous day.

"Taylor," his voice called out from the other side of the door, a gentle but persistent summons.

Panic coursed through me. I had no idea how to face him, especially after what had unfolded the previous night. In desperation, I quickly returned to bed and feigned slumber, praying he wouldn't entertain the idea of entering my room. I yearned to avoid another confrontation. But it appeared that luck was not on my side that day. The sound of my door opening filled the room, followed by the unmistakable rhythm of his footsteps. Holding my breath, I squeezed my eyes shut, hoping he wouldn't detect my ruse.

Time seemed to stretch endlessly as I lay there, his presence a heavy weight in the room. I dared not move a muscle, not even to open an eye. He stood just in front of me, his body casting a shadow that blocked the morning light seeping through the window. I willed my heartbeat to slow, hoping he wouldn't sense my charade.

Minutes ticked by like hours, and eventually, his footsteps began to recede. I finally exhaled a breath I hadn't realized I'd been holding. The door clicked shut, and I breathed a sigh of relief, convinced that he had left my room. Or so I thought...

"Good morning, My Queen," his voice, that familiar, rich baritone, suddenly boomed through the hushed air of my chamber.

My heart leaped in my chest, pounding so loudly that I half-expected it to echo in the quiet room. I turned slowly, my breath catching in my throat, my eyes inevitably drawn to the source of that voice. There, with a presence that seemed to fill the room, stood Vladimir.

His azure eyes, as intense and magnetic as ever, locked onto mine. It was as if they could see through the very depths of my soul. He stood there, so at ease, so comfortable in my private sanctuary.

"Y-Your Highness..." I stammered, my voice barely above a whisper, as my cheeks flushed with a deep, burning embarrassment.

The silence between us stretched, heavy with unspoken words and unresolved tension. I felt like a deer caught in the gaze of a hungry wolf, vulnerable and exposed.

Vladimir's lips curled into a knowing smile, a glint of amusement dancing in his eyes. "Am I right to assume that you're avoiding me, Taylor?" he said, his voice softening just a fraction.

My heart, already racing, quickened its pace. I took a hesitant step back, my back coming into contact with the edge of my ornate dressing table.

"What are you doing here?" I finally managed to muster the question, my voice regaining some of its composure deliberately ignoring his question.

He inclined his head slightly, acknowledging the tension in the room. "I came to see you, of course. I was hoping we could go down for breakfast together."

A bitter laugh escaped my lips, surprising even me. "I appreciate your kind gesture, Your Highness," I replied, struggling to keep my voice steady. "But as you can see, I haven't prepared myself for the table. I think it's better if you go ahead as I'm sure you have a lot on your plate today. I don't want to keep you from your work." I tried to force a smile, but it felt more like a grimace.

Vladimir's reaction was subtle, but it was there. His expression darkened, just a shade, and for the briefest moment, I glimpsed something in his eyes – regret, perhaps, or a hint of guilt. It was a flicker, a glimpse behind the façade of his regal composure, and it vanished almost as quickly as it had appeared.

He didn't respond immediately, allowing the weight of my words to linger in the air. I watched him closely, trying to discern his true feelings, to understand the man he had become.

"It's fine. I have a lot of time to spare. I can wait for you," Vladimir insisted, his voice unwavering, his determination clear.

I hesitated for a moment, carefully choosing my words. "Your Highness, pardon my rudeness, but I'd like to have the room for myself. I hope you understand that I'm not comfortable with you being around," I said, my tone firm but respectful.

He raised an eyebrow, a hint of sarcasm creeping into his voice. "So, I'm not allowed to be in my own suite?"

I stood my ground, unwilling to back down. "You know exactly what I mean, Your Highness," I replied firmly, not letting his sarcasm deter me.

A challenging smile played on Vladimir's lips as he took a step closer, his presence nearly overwhelming. He crossed both of his arms in front of his chest, his gaze locked onto mine. "On the contrary, I don't. Come on, please. Humor me."

I could feel the tension in the air, the unspoken conflict between us. This was a battle of wills, a clash of desires and boundaries. I had made my position clear, but Vladimir seemed determined to test the limits of my resolve.

I took a deep breath, summoning the strength to stand my ground. "Your Highness, I'm not trying to be difficult. I'm not entirely sure what your plan is for bringing me back here, but I don't think we have to pretend that we liked each other when we were alone. So, if you'll excuse me, I'd like to have the room for myself."

His smile softened, and he unfolded his arms, taking a step back. "Very well, Taylor. I'll go ahead. But I'll be waiting for you at the table. I won't be having breakfast until your presence has arrived," he firmly insisted.

With a final nod, Vladimir turned and left the room, leaving me alone with my thoughts and the palpable tension that lingered in the air. It was a small victory, a moment of autonomy in a life defined by duty and expectation. Though I don't know if I can consider it victory given the fact that he clearly said that he'll be waiting for me at the table.

I had no other choice but to compel myself and began preparing myself for breakfast.

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When I got to the dining table, I saw Vladimir and Diane were already seated. To my surprise, Vladimir hadn't started eating until I arrived. What caught my attention even more was that the chair on the left side of Vladimir, usually reserved for the queen, remained empty. Diane sat across the table, where I had been sitting the previous night. It seemed like our places had been swapped, making the situation even more awkward.

I didn't want to jump to conclusions, but I couldn't help wondering if that empty seat next to Vladimir had been left for me. My plan from earlier in the morning flashed through my mind - the plan to make Vladimir cast me out of this castle.

With a sense of determination, I quickly settled into the chair. "You really didn't need to wait for me," I reiterated as I occupied the empty seat beside Vladimir.

His gaze remained resolute. "I stand by my word, My Queen. I fully intended to await for your arrival, even if it meant sitting here all day."

A perplexed expression crossed my face. I couldn't quite discern whether he was expressing sincerity or veiled sarcasm. Before I could even figure out his true intentions, an abrupt and noisy clattering resonated through the room. Both Vladimir and I turned our heads toward the source of the commotion.

Lady Diane's furious gaze bore into mine as she clenched her silverware with a vice-like grip. It was as if she were mentally orchestrating my death right then and there. Her intense and malevolent glare sent a shiver coursing down my spine, leaving me with no doubt that my presence was unwelcome.

If lethal intent could be conveyed through mere looks, I might well have met my demise on the spot. But I remained unfazed. Pleasing neither Lady Diane nor Vladimir was the least of my concerns. In fact, my mind was already firmly fixed on the intricate plan I'd carefully devised earlier in the day. I was determined to carry it out no matter what the cost.

The dining room remained tense, an unspoken battle of wills hanging heavy in the air. As I settled into my seat, I couldn't help but feel the weight of the situation.

Vladimir's gaze, meanwhile, remained inscrutable. His emotions were shrouded in mystery, leaving me to wonder what was his real intentions of bringing me back here.

Lady Diane, on the other hand, made no effort to conceal her disdain. Her presence in this castle was a reminder of my compromised position, a living testament to the power Vladimir held over me. She represented a world of duty and tradition that had been forced upon me, a world I had no say in.

I turned my focus to Vladimir, who appeared deep in thought. His eyes, which had met mine briefly, were now fixed on some distant point beyond the grand dining table. The atmosphere in the room felt less oppressive, though the tension still hung thick in the air.

"What do you have in store for today, My Queen?" Vladimir inquired, his attention still captured by something in the room.

My gaze briefly flitted towards Lady Diane before I responded, "I was contemplating redecorating the castle, with your permission, Your Highness."

Vladimir's brow furrowed as he shifted his gaze towards me, skepticism coloring his expression. "I must admit, I never imagined you had an inclination for decorating," he remarked.

A wry smile crept onto my lips as I met his eyes. "Your Highness, it appears you clearly don't know anything about me. Wasn't event decorating my profession before you summoned me back into this... place?" I replied with a dash of sarcasm, unable to conceal the bitterness that lingered beneath my words.

His demeanor darkened in response, a clear indication that he did not appreciate my tone. My retort had hit a nerve, exposing the underlying tensions and resentments that had been festering since my return.

Challenging Vladimir, especially in the presence of Lady Diane, felt like a daring move. It was as though we were playing a high-stakes game, with the winner holding sway over a life that had been relentlessly manipulated.

Lady Diane observed our exchange intently, her eyes darting between us. She seemed to derive pleasure from the tension that hung thick in the air, relishing the conflict between herself and me, as well as the unspoken division between Vladimir and me.

I inhaled deeply, seeking to regain my composure. My intentions were clear: I needed to reclaim control over my life. It was time to assert my independence, even if it meant pushing the boundaries of propriety and decorum.

Vladimir's gaze remained fixed on me, his expression unreadable. The silence between us stretched, pregnant with unspoken words and unresolved issues.

At last, he spoke, his voice carefully measured and devoid of emotion. "Very well, My Queen. If redecorating is your desire, you have my permission to proceed."

I nodded in acknowledgment, grateful that he had not outright dismissed my proposal. It was a small victory, but it marked a step toward regaining a sense of control and purpose in my life.

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