CHAPTER 477: OPTIONS

The expression "sick to her stomach" never made as much sense to her as it did in that moment. Her digestive system did not react in that fashion even back when she had discovered the hanging body of her mother.

It churned acid on empty air, heaving and dropping so violently, Arabella was forced to bend out of shape in order to fight the rising bile that burned its way through the tract leading up to her mouth.

Her pounding heart had stopped cooperating as well, pumping blood at such a higher rate than her lungs could sustain enough oxygen for the rest of her body.

That whole chain caused the world to blur around the edges as the only distinguishable sounds around were the strong whistling in her ears as well as the drumming of her own heart.

Spasms coursed her muscles as she glared down at it. Her eyes stopped attempting to reel the tears in, making the world around fuzzier and harder to behold.

The oddest thing was that her nostrils had caught no foul odor up until then, but all of the sudden there wafted this gag- inducing, repugnant stench that was never there in the beginning. It was like her own senses worked on warping reality.

Her irises clung to the piece of flesh laying on the floor at her feet while memories from once upon a time struck, throwing her back years and years ago when her loving brother Arthur, in his infinite wisdom had cut himself with his own arrow while attempting to show off his talents as a marksman.

The injury itself yielded no deeper health consequences but left its mark on him as a piece of his right ear, reverse triangle shaped, had been forever carved out of it.

And there it was... That same right ear...

It was the same one, wasn’t it? After all, her father worked for the prince, he’d know about that detail and reproducing it on someone else’ ear couldn’t be that hard.

So, was it her brother’s ear?

If yes, was he still alive and where was he for all those years? Did the prince execute him like he had done with his servants?

There was only one way to get an answer for all of those questions.

In the second that followed, with the next breath her lungs had huffed, her body became imbued with a sudden surge of sizzling rage which also allowed her the freedom to move once more.

Without another ounce of hesitation, Arabella picked the closest linen cloth, scooped the ear off the floor and stuffed it back into its box.

After sticking the lid on top of it, the young woman burst out the door and stormed towards the prince’s quarters.

The guards that had been posted by the map room scrambled after her heels. Not that she paid them any mind, the only reason Arabella was aware of their presence was the stomping of their boots right behind her.

Along the way, she rubbed at her damp face and eyes so forcefully, her skin had started to sting but it was a necessary pain in order to clear the tears cloaking her view.

The prince’s door was also guarded and heavily so. His knights immediately barred her path by crossing their lances together in front of her face.

"His highness is expecting my visit," she practically growled.

But no response from them was needed as the doors cracked open anyways for a young servant woman to peek though.

"The prince is indeed expecting the Lady," she spoke with the most brittle of voices.

The knights retreated their weapons and regained their idle position, looking like the rigid statues they pretended to be.

Arabella swiftly turned to her own guards and declared, "Wait for me here," she ordered.

"But my Lady-" one of them protested.

"Wait here for me," Arabella simply repeated herself.

Inside, the prince had surrounded himself with what one could call the fairest of maidens. Each of them was busy with her own task to fulfil. At his feet, a blonde knelt with a porcelain basin next to her, gently washing them. Behind his seated figure stood a brunette, slowly massaging his shoulders whereas another young woman wiped at his hand with the softest of touches and an immaculate cloth.

Each of them more beautiful than the other and null doubt, held more talents than they were allowed to show.

Irene lay on the cushy bed facing him, wrapped in a cloth that barely covered her privates, making very suggestive and inviting motions as she maintained eye contact with Cedric.

What made Arabella wish to rip his throat open even more was the sight of those darkened, deep purple bruises painted across her arms, legs and the visible parts of her tits.

In the end, it seemed as though her furious breathing alone was enough to grasp his attention. With one wave of the hand, he dismissed Irene along with all the maids that seemingly lived for the sole purpose of pampering him.

Cedric kept his back to her while readjusting the cuffs of his blouse, "Yes. He is still alive and yes," he halted all movement, "He is back in Regalis, waiting in a cozy cell of his own for your arrival,"

He read her mind... Then again, triggering that reaction in her had to be his goal from the get go.

Among all of the vitriolic, fervent, denigrating words that screamed in her to be freed, Arabella only managed to steady her quivering chin long enough to grunt, "I don’t believe you,"

"That remains your problem," he chuckled, her back still turned, "Then again, I’d suggest taking it to a witch," his eyes drifted towards the box in her hand, "She would tell you whether you and my gift share any familial bond," he stood off his chair and took his sweet time when fully turning to face her, "Don’t worry. We can speak freely. Your husband won’t be coming home any time soon," her expression seemingly prompted him to elaborate, "I have eyes and ears of my own out there. From what I was told, he is quite busy at the moment, so I took this opportunity to... Well, we needed to talk in peace,"

The glint in those chestnut eyes never met a face that could snuff it to that day it seemed. Along with his grin, those two traits on him banded together, rendering the most sinister expressions to be donned.

"We shall be taking the official route home. Consider your options then make your own decision. With the pace at which we’ll be traveling, it should take us two to three days to reach the border,"

With that, the prince made his way towards the bathroom door in his room, but right as his hand grabbed the knob, her voice rose.

"Where was he? How did you find him?"

His expression shifted at once, from a cold smile to a twisted glare, "It took all of two months for you to forget how to address your betters. Leave this room now before you bring more blight upon the very people and land that opened their home to you,"