A Witch's Game | ✓

20 | Deal With Death

The edge of a paper from her extra book tore as Priscilla curved letters onto the blank page from under the desk. She winked at her seatmate besides her to not make a noise and the girl rubbing the cap of her pen on her chin nodded, grinning mischievously.

She crumpled up the paper and threw it over to Viola, who whipped her head towards Priscilla in response and glared. Viola lifted the paper from her lap and threw it under her desk, stamping her foot.

When the class ceased, Priscilla capered behind her friend, wrapping her arms around Viola's neck as she pulled her back. "Please, Viol." Viola bent down and slipped away from her grasp. "No, I'm not going to talk to that idiot. That foolish, ill-mannered man insulted me so much."

She twirled and faced Priscilla, eyes narrowed as she spoke. "Do you know how much he was praising him?" Viola leaned close and whispered. She couldn't dare to disrespect Hudson in public. "Our Prince." Viola settled her bag properly on her shoulders, clenching her jaws as she tasted the venoms of Andrew's words on the tip of her tongue from that day.

"Viola, please," Priscilla fastened her pace, begging as she joined her hands together. "I saved you from Andrew on your first day at the palace. I value you so much, please." Viola had the nature of frigid ice and once in warm palms, she would melt within seconds. She folded her arms, huffing as she glanced away. "Nice manipulation. I don't know why you want me to talk to him, but fine!"

Priscilla grinned and levelled herself down to Viola's height as she embraced her Viola. They halted a carriage from outside the college's premises. The galloping horse expeditiously reached the palace, the clatter of hooves silencing as the duo sprang out of the carriage.

Did Priscilla feel the same when I forced her to come to the palace?

Viola scratched her hairline, preparing for a monologue as shame seeped into her skin and they aimlessly strolled in the palace's corridors. She had never predicted that having Priscilla as her friend would cause her to bow to a human like him, and even her tongue refused to talk to Andrew.

Andrew descended the stairs with a guard beside him as he scanned through a few papers when Priscilla pushed Viola in his way and she fortuitously squeaked. Andrew stopped, frowning at the sound as he looked to his side. "Good evening Mr. Andrew, can my friend Priscilla meet our Prince?"

He closed the file that sat softly in his hands. "My Prince is busy." Priscilla strode forward when he began to continue his walk. "Tell Your Highness that Ms. Priscilla Anderson wishes to talk to him." Priscilla smiled sweetly, lacing her fingers as she honeyed her words. "Your Highness is very humble. He'll allow me in."

Andrew smiled, nodding at her words and he motioned them to follow him to the study room as the Prince wasn't in the comfort of his chambers. He pattered at the doors and Hudson allowed him. "My Prince," He bowed and from the partly opened doors, Viola glanced inside, muttering incoherent words at his loyalty. "Ms. Priscilla Anderson wishes to meet you. She's outside now. May I let her in?"

Hudson's gaze firmed as he yearned for his sword in that moment. He yearned for it to be dripping in Priscilla's blood. "No." He whispered lividly, licking the inline of his lips as he raised his voice. "Guards," The ones securing the entrance of the study room rushed in and bowed as the Prince added. "Inform father that I ask for his presence in the study room this instant." They nodded and left, escorting the King as demanded.

Andrew timidly lowered his head as he stayed cemented next to the ivory couch Hudson had situated at. "What should I tell Ms. Anderson, My Prince?" Hudson reclined, parting his mouth as a subtle smile broke at lips. "Tell her to wait." Andrew bobbed his head, trailing the path of exit. He flexed his neck and spoke as Priscilla straightened her spine, eyes sparking hopes. "Dear ladies, please wait for sometime."