Rise of the Unfavored Princess

Chapter 138: Ch. 137: The Real Show

“Why should I tell you?” Janice whined, rubbing at her neck even though it wasn’t the slightest bit bruised or red. “You are neither my husband... nor my lover.” Her eyes flickered up suggestively, but Wolfgang was already learning to see past her attempts at seduction.

There was no denying Janice’s overwhelming charm and beauty. Perhaps if Wolfgang had met her in a Red House he might’ve paid thousands to spend an evening with her. But she still had yet to master the kind of word games nobles had played since they were young.

Wolfgang snorted, releasing her neck. “Only a blind fool would voluntarily choose to be either. Tell me, Countess, what benefit is there in being with you?”

His words were deliberate, scratching at the wound of Janice being of common birth. It also reminded her that she was but a countess by marriage, while he was set to inherit a duchy from his father someday.

Janice’s lips pressed into a thin line. “Too common for you, am I?” she spat. “Then I suppose I ought to return to the banquet.”

“After giving your promise to help me find the second princess? I’m afraid His Majesty would be disappointed to hear such disloyalty from his subjects,” Wolfgang slyly said, verbally backing Janice into a corner.

“Would he really be disappointed?” A light flashed in Janice’s eyes, the kind that Wolfgang did not like. Like she was privy to something he wasn’t.

.....

“Let us proceed to the last lady’s room,” Wolfgang replied instead, marching ahead.

The maze-like halls snaked their way towards the final lady’s room as a bad feeling crept over Wolfgang. They were not alone in those halls, he suspected, and his suspicion was validated as Sir Jasper emerged from the dark halls in front of him.

“Captain. Countess,” Sir Jasper greeted lazily. His tone was fraught with disrespect for a subordinate. Wolfgang did not care for Sir Jasper, as he knew that the lad was one of Duvernay’s dogs. He also had a lack of respect for life, killing for pleasure rather than necessity. Wolfgang did enjoy battle, in his own way. But he did not truly have a taste for blood. Not the way this second son from the Berrick family did.

As his greeting was rude, Wolfgang did not acknowledge it. “There is no rest room for gentlemen down there,” Wolfgang said in lieu of a greeting.

“No. There isn’t,” Sir Jasper smirked. “I shall see you in the throne room.” The tall lad, who somehow managed to soar past Wolfgang in height as well, brushed past rudely.

Janice and Wolfgang both watched him leave, although the former had a satisfied grin on her face. It wasn’t often Wolfgang tasted the kind of disrespect he’d just experienced, particularly from a subordinate whom he’d beaten several times in the past. It was odd for the second son of the Berrick family to act in such a way after killing a dragon. It seemed that the emperor was right that there was something fishy about dragons that they didn’t know about.

“I’ve worked in the trade for years. I know the face of a satisfied man when I see one,” Janice muttered just loud enough for Wolfgang to hear after Sir Jasper had sauntered away. There were undeniable undertones of satisfaction in her voice.

“What did you say?” Wolfgang asked, throwing an insidious look over his shoulder at the woman who accompanied him.

“How do you think His Majesty would feel if the tender, young flower he protects in the central palace were plucked? He would be angry, wouldn’t he?” Janice tapped at her pointed chin with a long nail, giddy at the idea as if she’d concocted it herself.

Wolfgang did not waste any more time verbally sparring with the countess as he rushed to the doors. But they opened from within, three young children emerging. Wolfgang’s eyes first focused on the princess, who looked extremely surprised to see him.

“Lord Wolfgang?” she exclaimed. But then her eyes focused on the countess standing behind him and a smile widened across her face.

“Jani- Countess! A pleasure! You look even more vibrant than you did at the hunt.” Wolfgang inwardly smirked at the barbed greeting from the young princess.

But even so, he hadn’t lost sight of the important matter at hand.

“Your Highness,” Wolfgang said, bowing politely to his friend’s youngest child. She nodded, humbly accepting his greetings with the maturity of someone twice her age. Meanwhile, he could all but hear Countess Koberg seething behind him. It seemed that only a small number of people were given the privilege to call her ‘Janice’. “Did you encounter Sir Jasper on your way here?”

It happened in a flash. There was the barest of motions, Princess Winter’s lips pressed into a line before she relinquished it into a confused smile. A dark look fluttered through Prince Amir’s summery gaze. Elias squeezed his armrest before he released it.

Something had happened, just as he’d feared.

“I did not. Did you require his presence for something?” Princess Winter asked innocently, falling into step beside him.

“Yes. They are about to give a toast in his honor soon,” Wolfgang lied through his teeth. Her tone was airy, each step practically floating in her now clean dress. The girl was truly hard to get a read on, which made it difficult to determine what he should tell Emperor Helio.

‘I saw Sir Jasper wandering through the halls and I got a bad feeling?’ ‘I think something bad may have occurred between Sir Jasper and the youngest princess? Oh, and perhaps that maid who somehow married a count may be involved?’

Just hinting at such things would get any other man killed and even Wolfgang would not escape without punishment if there was no evidence to support such claims. But something had to be said.

There was nothing but silence, and yet something hung thick in the air. It could have been Janice’s hatred, which rolled off her in waves only to hit the insurmountable wall of Princess Winter. It could be that mischievousness that most children emit when they’ve been up to naughty behavior. Or it could be Wolfgang’s guilt knocking at his door and telling him something he already knew: Something happened. Sir Jasper did something.

The knocking was a constant drumbeat, much like the pre-dawn marches he’d been subject to as a new member of the royal guard years ago. He couldn’t escape it by covering his head with a pillow, no matter how hard he tried.

The drumming was replaced by stomping as the unlikely group reentered the throne room. A traditional Aidelish performance was taking place. Prince Amir immediately sprung to life, clapping in tune and dancing back to his seat.

Little did Wolfgang know that the real show was about to take place.