VIII: This Christmas

Angela had already anticipated his answer from the story he had told her, but she just wanted to be sure. "Ah, you're lucky. At least you know you don't have siblings, instead of having a sister like mine." She shrugged, and he chuckled. Her mind noted that she loved the sound of his laughter.

"You're right."

"You should have seen the way she was looking at you." Angela scoffed. "I wouldn't be surprised if she asked my father to send you to her. He'd do anything for her, you know."

"I won't be moved," Zayden said firmly, and she blinked, still looking at him. "I won't let him send me away." He shrugged his muscular shoulders, and Angela couldn't help but wonder if he worked out. He was exceptionally fit.

"Ah, I should feel relieved, then." She offered a small smile and glanced out the window. "Are you cold? I want to open the window." It was August, and the rain often brought a chill.

"It's fine." He nodded. He watched her open the window and close her eyes as the cool breeze drifted inside. The wind ruffled her hair, and he heard her hum softly. She was so beautiful, too beautiful for the darkness of this world. Too beautiful to be near someone like him or her father. "Aren't you feeling cold?" He noticed the goosebumps on her arms and the faint red moles dotting her skin.

"Trust me, I am. But I like the air." She turned back to him and chuckled before facing forward again. "I can't wait for Christmas. I'll spend it with Nana this year."

"Do you always spend Christmas with her?" he asked, still gazing at her.

"Nope." She shook her head and kept her eyes on him. "I usually spend it at our mansion. My paternal cousins come over."

"I see."

"But I don't care. This Christmas, I'm not spending it in the mansion. It's boring as hell." She sighed, and he chuckled. "What about you? Where do you spend your Christmas?"

"Before my parents died, we would go to my grandparents' place. Sometimes we'd visit my father's side, sometimes my mother's." He looked out the window. "After their deaths, I spent every Christmas at my uncle's." He turned to her and saw her nod her small head in understanding.

Silence settled between them again. Zayden looked out of the window, while Angela kept her gaze on him, staring as if she wanted to carve a hole in the side of his head. "If you keep looking at me like that, Princess, I might assume you're in love with me." He spoke without turning to her, and she nearly choked.

Angela cleared her throat and shifted her gaze to her clasped hands on her lap. "Assumptions can be deadly."

Zayden laughed at her words. "Your late brother—was he your stepbrother?" Zayden asked, his tone soft.

"Yes, he was. He was Jane's first child and Zara's brother. But he wasn't like them." A wistful look danced in her eyes as she stared at nothing in particular. "He was kind, very kind. It's a pity he died." She sighed and forced a small smile. "As they always say, it's the good people who die first. It almost makes me want to become a bad person." She looked up at him and chuckled when he raised an eyebrow. "I'm just joking. I couldn't, even if I wanted to. I'm already too good."

"Don't change for anyone," he said, the smile lingering in his voice. He looked at her intently, and Angela found herself losing track of their conversation. "If you're a good person, stay a good person." He smiled as she nodded.

The sound of the gate pulled their attention. They had arrived home. The carriage stopped, and Angela and Zayden alighted. She clutched her robe against the chill as Zayden followed her closely.

"I'm home, Papa," Angela announced as she opened her father's door. He was seated on a couch, and on the other was Zara. Jane was nowhere in sight.

"You're back, dear. How are Mila and Jerry?" Henry asked his second daughter.

"Grandma is fine. I didn't see Grandpa; he wasn't around, but I'm sure he's doing well." She entered the room and closed the door. Zayden remained outside. She sat beside her father, facing Zara.

"It's been a while since I visited Grandma too," Zara said coyly, addressing her father. They didn't share the same maternal grandparents since they had different mothers. Angela had only met Zara's grandparents once when the family visited them in the Kingdom of Sania, where Jane was born. "Why don't we go together on Sunday, the day after tomorrow?" Zara glanced at Angela with a sly smile, unnoticed by their father but clear to Angela. "You don't mind, do you, Angie? Considering Grandma doesn't like you much." She tutted as if she felt sorry for Angela, but she reveled in it. She loved how her grandparents despised Angela. She thrived on it.

"Of course, Zara, I don't mind." Angela shrugged, refusing to rise to the bait. "But I suppose both our grandparents share something in common. Your Grandma doesn't like you either. We baked a cake, and she didn't give me any to bring to you. Such a shame." Angela smiled as she saw Zara grit her teeth and bite her lip.

Zayden chuckled from outside, having heard everything happening in the room.

Angela... she was truly fascinating.