Chapter 9

"I-I will take you to your chambers, I-Isolde." Elias stumbled over his feet, Isolde caught him and gently steadied him against the wall, Isolde giggled, "I think it is you who needs escorting my dear friend." Isolde and Elias made their way through the winding corridors of the castle, their footsteps echoing slightly in the empty halls.

Elias's grip on Isolde's arm was loose, but his stumbling increased as they navigated the labyrinthine passages. The cool stone walls and dim torchlight seemed to blur as Isolde guided her unsteady friend along.

As they turned a corner, they almost ran into two guards on patrol. "Isolde, how is it that you are still perfectly sober? Do you secretly drink like a fish? "Elias chuckles his hot breath blowing on her fact, leaning heavily on Isolde as they continue their journey through the castle corridors.

Isolde rolls her eyes urging him forward every time he spoke, he nearly fell over, he continued squeezing her too him, "I wish I could say the same, my friend. But alas, I fear I have overindulged this evening." He waves a hand vaguely, nearly losing his balance in the process. Isolde steadies him with a firm grip, her own steps slightly unsteady but far surer than Elias's.

As they round another corner, the corridor opens up into the mage's chambers specifically where the men stay, "Okay here we are Elias, we are almost there." She heaved his weight was beginning to press down on her. Elias stumbles, nearly knocking over a decorative vase as they approach his door. "I... I can take it from here, Isolde." His words are slurred, his eyes half-lidded as he fumbles with the handle of his chamber door. After a moment of struggling, the door swings open, revealing the dimly lit room within.

"I... I think I can make it to the bed without assistance." Isolde sighed, "Okay, dont take a bath, drink water and go to bed." She replied sternly. Elias grins sheepishly, "Yes, Mother." He salutes sloppily before stumbling into his room, the door closing behind him with a soft click.

Isolde stands in the empty hallway for a moment, steadying herself against the wall. The wine in her system has made her head feel lightheaded and her steps unsteady dragging Elias was a far bigger challenge then she expected. She starts walking back towards her own chambers, the corridors seeming to stretch endlessly in the dim torchlight. Despite Elias's comments, she, too, was nowhere near her usual sober self, her body was on fire, her heart was racing, and her skin tingled. She pressed herself against the cold stone walls of the castle, trying to cool herself down.

As she rounded another corner, she caught a glimpse of an opening tucked into the side, lights glimmering softly. She knew she should go straight to her chambers, but she couldn't control her curiosity especially not now. As Isolde's eyes fall upon the discreet opening, a sense of wonder overtakes her. The soft glow of lights beckons her like a moth to a flame. She hesitates for a moment, her hand still pressed against the cold stone wall for support, before she succumbs to her curiosity. With a deep breath, she pushes herself off the wall and stumbles towards the hidden hall, her heart pounding in her chest like a drum.

As Isolde approaches the mysterious opening, the air seems to hum with an unnatural energy that makes the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end. She hesitates at the threshold, her hand hovering over the ornate wooden door. The carved designs seem to writhe in the flickering light, hinting at ancient secrets long buried. The door creaks open with a groan, as if awakening from a long slumber, revealing a to her surprise a vast garden. Isolde steps into the hidden garden, her eyes widening at the sight before her. The air is heavy with the scent of night-blooming flowers, their heady perfume mingling with the cool night breeze. Softly glowing orbs float lazily above the winding paths, casting an ethereal light over the lush foliage. It's as if she's stepped into a world apart from the castle, a secret oasis hidden away from prying eyes.

She takes a tentative step forward, her feet sinking into the plush grass, The night-blooming flowers release their intoxicating perfume, mingling with the cool night air and making her head swim pleasantly. The sight nearly brought tears to her eyes, the sights and smells reminding her of her grandmother unable to turn back she pressed forward as if lulled deeper by a supernatural source. The soft glow of the floating orbs bathes Isolde in their ethereal light as she meanders through the garden's winding paths. As she weaves through the foliage, her head spins from the combination of alcohol and the overwhelming scents, and she stumbles, nearly losing her footing on the uneven terrain.

She giggles, "Grandmother, if only you could see what I'm seeing, it's marvelous." She announces out loud. She hears a rustle, and she stills she was intoxicated yes but still sober enough to realize she shouldn't be here. As Isolde stays still like a corpse, the rustling in the garden grows louder, more insistent. The hairs on the back of her neck stand up again, this time prickling with a sense of foreboding. The soft glow of the floating orbs flickers, casting dancing shadows on the lush foliage. She strains her ears, trying to pinpoint the source of the sound.

Her breath catches in her throat, is that a moan she's hearing? Unable to step away she naively walks towards the sound. Isolde, now fully absorbed in the mystery of the garden, follows the rustling sound, her curiosity overriding her instincts. She moves deeper into the foliage, the moonlight filtering through the canopy above casting dappled shadows on the path.

As she rounds a bend, the source of the rustling becomes clear - two figures locked in a passionate embrace, their skin glistening with sweat. Isolde freezes, it's a woman with dark hair her breasts fully exposed her eyes squeezed shut as soft moans and whimpers fall from her lips.

Against her a man is pressed into her his blonde hair slick with sweat, suckling on her neck. Her hands grasp his, urging him closer, "oh, god keep doing that." Isolde's eyes widen, her heart pounding so loudly she's sure they can hear it. She should turn away, leave immediately, but she's frozen in place, her body refusing to move.

The woman's head tilts back, exposing more of her neck as the man's lips trail down to her collarbone. She takes a step back hiding behind the bushes her eyes feasting on the scene before her, she cranes her vision relishing in mysterious man's body, his back was broad rippled with muscles. She gnawed on her fingers, wondering what his skin felt like, her eyes trailed further down noting the color of his trousers they seemed familiar like she had seen that fabric somewhere before.

Suddenly it dawned on her, who the trousers belong to - the crown prince. Isolde's heart raced as she recognized the man in the passionate embrace. It was none other than the Crown Prince Elynor, his muscular form glistening with sweat as he pleasured the dark-haired woman. The woman's moans grew louder, more urgent, as the prince's hands roamed her body. Isolde's own body flushed with heat, a strange sensation coiling in her core as she watched the intimate scene unfold. Her mind reels as she tries to recall the last time, she had been touched in such a way, Isolde's heart races as she watches the intimate scene unfold before her, a thought crosses her mind, that woman isn't Rose. But Rose was just a flicker of a thought the sounds of their fucking pulling her back to the present, she can't help but imagine what it would feel like to be in the woman's place, to have the prince's touch ignite her own skin.

A strange heat pools in her core, a longing she hasn't felt in years. Her moans intensify, "I'm close, so close, keep going...." The prince growls in response, his hands gripping her hips more firmly as he thrusts the sounds of their bodies slamming fiercely into each other. Isolde bites her lip to stifle a gasp, her own body responding to the scene before her in ways she can't ignore.

She presses herself further into the bushes, trying to remain hidden as she watches, her breath coming in short, ragged gasps. The woman's back arches as she nears her climax, her fingers digging into the prince's shoulders. The prince's movements become more urgent, his own release approaching. Isolde's body tenses, her own pleasure building as she watches the couple reach their peak. The woman cries out, her body shuddering with the force of her orgasm. The prince follows shortly after, groaning deeply as he finds his release.

They collapse onto the grass, panting heavily, their skin still flushed and damp with sweat. As the couple catches their breath, Isolde's heart pounds wildly in her chest. She knows she should look away, should retreat back to the safety of her chambers, but she can't seem to tear her eyes away from the intimate scene before her. The prince's muscular form, still glistening with sweat, is a sight to behold. His hands, which moments ago were bringing the woman such intense pleasure, now gently stroke her hair as she nestles against his chest. "We should go, it's not safe to stay here long there are prying eyes everywhere."

The prince's voice rumbled sending shivers down Isolde's spine, he quickly jumped up adjusting his trousers away from her view when Isolde realized she needed to leave. Now. She carefully stepped backwards, trying to be as silent as possible.

She had to leave before they turned and spotted her, the couple began to gather their clothes, still oblivious to Isolde's presence. As they moved towards the exit, Isolde's foot caught on a protruding root, causing her to stumble with a soft yelp. The prince's head snapped up at the sound, his sharp gaze scanning the area. Isolde pressed herself against the nearest tree, hiding in its shadows. The dark-haired woman turned, her face contorting with shock as she spotted movement across from them.

"Who's there?" The prince demanded, his voice low and dangerous, Isolde held her breath, her heart racing as the couple's eyes scanned the area where she was hidden. The prince's voice, though low, seemed to echo through the garden, making her skin prickle with fear. She pressed herself harder against the tree, willing herself to disappear into the trunk. The woman's eyes narrowed as she spotted a flash of movement from Isolde's position.

"Someone's there, Elynor," she hissed, her voice dripping with suspicion, Isolde wills herself to move, she can't get caught not like this her reputation would be ruined.

Without hesitating she shot up and sprinted in the other direction, the prince gives chase, his footsteps crunching on the garden path as they pursue. Isolde's heart pounds in her chest, her legs quivering from the combined effects of alcohol and adrenaline. She weaves through the foliage, her vision blurring as she tries to maintain her footing on the uneven ground.

Behind her, the prince's voice rings out, "You little rat!"

Run Isolde run, she could get away she just had to get to the main hall, there she would act natural as though she were just leaving the great halls festivities it was a longshot, but it could work right?

Go. FUCK GO!

The castle corridors blur by in a dizzying whirl as Isolde sprints towards the main hall, her lungs burn and her muscles scream in protest, but adrenaline drives her forward. Behind her, the prince's heavy footsteps grow distant, echoing off the stone walls. Just as she reaches the main hall, she slows down catching her breath attempting to appear as natural as possible. She walks gently not daring look back. Isolde, her heart still pounding wildly in her chest, enters the main hall with as much composure as she can muster. She tries to steady her breathing, her eyes darting around the room to avoid drawing attention to herself. The great hall is still bustling with activity, the revelry of the festival in full swing. Musicians play lively tunes while guests dance and mingle, oblivious to the drama unfolding in the gardens.

She takes the steps back up to her room quietly and quickly soon, she finds herself in her familiar area she breathes a sigh of relief up ahead is her room. She smiles to herself just a few more steps;

"Ah!"

Her arm is pulled harshly she feels a powerful force slam her into the wall. The prince's face is mere inches from hers, his eyes blazing with anger and something else. His grip on her arm is firm, bordering on painful.

"You dare to spy on me?" he hisses, his words laced with menace. Isolde's breath catches in her throat, her body pressed firmly against the cold stone wall. She can feel the heat radiating from the prince's body, his muscular form blocking any escape She tries to pry from his grip running on pure instinct. "I-I don't know what you are referring to, y-your Highness... I-"

"Don't play coy with me," Elynor growls, his voice low and dangerous, his breath hot against her face. "I saw you, hiding behind the bushes like a little mouse. Who are you? What is your name?" His grip tightens, his fingers digging into her arm, his eyes burning into hers, demanding an answer.

"Speak now, or face the consequences."

Isolde feels tears well in her eyes, was this it? was she done for? she couldn't look away his face scrunching up in sudden recognition, "Don't tell me you're that mage from the courtyard- you are you!"

Isolde flinches, her body trembling as the prince's grip on her arm tightens his pins her harder into the wall almost lifting her. She struggles to maintain composure, the prince's recognition of her identity striking fear into her heart. The prince's eyes narrow, a cruel smirk playing at the corners of his mouth.

"That little display in the courtyard wasn't enough, was it? You had to go snooping where you don't belong."

Isolde's heart pounds frantically against her ribs, her mind reeling as she grapples with the prince's accusation. Tears spill from her eyes as the gravity of her situation settles upon her. She knows she should plead for forgiveness, beg for mercy, but the words catch in her throat. Instead, she finds herself blurting out, "I-I didn't mean to, my lord!" The prince's eyes flash with anger, "You didn't mean to?" he sneers, his voice dripping with contempt. "Is that supposed to be an excuse? You had no right to be there, to spy on me in such a private moment." 

Isolde flinches, her breath coming in short, frightened gasps he was right the only thing she could do was admit her shortcomings she was caught. "I-I yes...you are correct but I-"

"You what? hmm? who sent you?" She struggles to form a coherent sentence, her mind racing with fear and confusion. "N-no one sent me, my lord! I-I was just..." Her words trail off as the prince's face inches closer, his breath hot against her ear his blue eyes darkening as he takes in her crumpled face.

"Just what?"

"L-lost," Isolde manages to stammer, her voice barely above a whisper, the prince's eyes narrow, his gaze boring into hers as if he could read the truth in her very soul. "Lost, you say? after weeks in my castle?" His lips curl into a sneer, and Isolde can feel the heat of his breath against her cheek. "I find that hard to believe, mage."

"Okay, fine!" She yelled, squeezing her eyes shut, "I saw the gardens! I wanted to see them...they reminded me of my grandmother!" She sobbed, unable to hold back her tears, "I wasn't spying, I-I just couldn't look away....I-I won't tell a soul I swear-r Lady Rose I-I won't say anything!"

The prince's eyes narrow, his grip on Isolde's arm loosening slightly as he processes her emotional outburst. His face softens for a moment, but then hardens again. "Your grandmother?" he repeats, his words laced with skepticism. "How touching. But that doesn't explain why you felt the need to hide and watch."

He moves closer, his lips almost touching her ear as he speaks in a low, menacing whisper. Isolde's heart races as the prince's lips nearly brush her ear, his words sending shivers down her spine. She squeezes her eyes shut, tears streaming down her face as she trembles under his intense gaze.

"I-I didn't mean to hide, my lord," she stammers, her voice barely above a whisper. "I just...I couldn't look away. It was so beautiful, so passionate. I've never seen anything like it before."

"Beautiful? Passionate?" he repeats, a low chuckle rumbling in his chest. "You speak like a lovesick fool, mage." He releases her arm, stepping back to survey her with cold calculation there was also a hint of disgust. "Tell me, what exactly did you see? And more importantly, what do you intend to do with that information now?"

"N-nothing!" Isolde's eyes fly open, her voice trembling as she struggles to meet the prince's gaze. "I-I saw nothing of importance, my lord."

The prince's lips curl into a mocking smile, his eyes gleaming with a dangerous spark. "Smart woman, indeed," he echoes, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "But you see, mage, in my court, ignorance is not bliss, it is a liability. You stumbled upon a secret, and now, you are a liability to me." His smile fades, replaced by a stern, unyielding expression.

"I'll do anything, j-just please don't expel me I-I wasn't even going to leave my chambers tonight I was just in the wrong place at the wrong-"

"time?" Isolde's plea is cut short as the prince's smile returns, though it is as sharp as a blade. He leans in, his voice a low, dangerous whisper, "Time is a fickle thing, mage. It can be your ally or your enemy. Right now, it's your enemy. You've caught my attention, and I don't like loose ends."

Isolde felt her stomach coil, "e-excuse me? What are you..s-saying?" She breathed out, her body quivering as the prince's words hung heavy in the air.

The prince's clear eyes glittered with a cruel intensity as he continued, his words menacing and clear. "I'm saying, my dear mage, that you have two choices. One: you keep your mouth shut, forget what you saw, and I'll consider letting this incident slide." He pauses, letting the gravity of his words sink in before continuing. "Two: you don't, and I'll ensure you never have the chance to speak again. The choice is yours but choose wisely. Your future at this court - and perhaps your life - depends on it."

Isolde's breath catches in her throat, her heart pounding so hard she fears it might burst from her chest. "Are you so cruel!" Isolde yelled, her body shaking.

"You dare question my cruelty?" The prince's eyes flash with fury, his voice a low, menacing growl. "You have no idea of the horrors I'm capable of." He leans in close, his face mere inches from hers, his breath hot against her cheek. "I've seen battles, mage. I've witnessed the unimaginable. The suffering of men and beasts alike." His eyes bore into hers, dark and fathomless. Isolde's eyes widen in terror, her breath coming in short, panicked gasps.

She can feel the prince's breath on her face, hot and heavy, like the sulfurous exhale of a dragon. His words paint a gruesome picture, one she can scarcely bear to imagine. She swallows hard, trying to find the courage to speak, to reason with this man who seems to be both a prince and a monster.